I'm Brianna Sue. twenty-one. Texas. happy. aspiring fashion journalist/ business owner.
simple and sweet.

Loves Of My Life

ButterPecans ♥
heavy-souls (*♥ bfflzz 5ever ♥*)
frank
heartshapedpizza


I own a little shop, take a look if you'd like.
Visit my store on Storenvy
L7 weenie(s)
LINKS:
Mi Carita
THRIFTING PALS
Wishes and Truths Project

intensional:

the office will always be my favorite show

(Source: intensional, via penishole)

sassy-valentines:

lumin4nce:

someone needs to stop me

valentines that will make ppl (or cats) like you (part 6/???)

disclaimer

Check my blog for Sassy valentines cards!

(Source: intriicates, via chinup-littleflower)

saydolly:

impossiblesoulbysufjanstevens:

Vegans schooled by Big-Tity Honker’s


Omg

saydolly:

impossiblesoulbysufjanstevens:

Vegans schooled by Big-Tity Honker’s

Omg

(via nofunerals)

There is a Fountain of Youth: It is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring to your life and the lives of the people you love. When you learn to tap this source, you will truly have defeated age.

HAPPY 80TH BIRTHDAY SOPHIA LOREN! 
| September 20, 1934

(Source: loren-sophia, via blueklectic)

http://dirtylittlestylewhoree.tumblr.com/post/98123093539/lilys-tastyart-symphonyofchaos ↘

lilys-tastyart:

symphonyofchaos:

raychillster:

stop romanticizing unhealthy relationships.

stop thinking you can change someone. you can’t. they need to change for themselves.

stop romanticizing the idea of you two being together some day. if it isn’t happening now, let it…

suprchnk:

phil collins went off doing the tarzan soundtrack.

he ain’t have to go that hard like that.

(via godh8sfags2)

nahfuckallthat:

Rollin with the homies…

nahfuckallthat:

Rollin with the homies…

(Source: sovietchan, via poutyprincesss)

officialunitedstates:

I was nervous, I admit.  It was our second date and I wanted everything to be as close to perfect as possible.  I had even gone so far as to fill up my car with the second cheapest gasoline type.  I had no idea what it was or why anyone would ever buy it but I decided that no expense would be spared.
I had also baked some fresh muffins.  Those took me about six hours to make because I kept changing my mind on what flavor muffins I wanted.  At first, I wanted to make some with nuts but then I changed my mind after about ten minutes of them in the oven.  So, I put on my mitts I knitted the day before and took them out, promptly dug into the muffins with tweezers to remove each nut, and then decided to replace them with chocolate chips.  This worked well, until I remembered that I hadn’t asked her if she was allergic to chocolate or not and didn’t want her not to be able to have any.  So, I put on my mitts I had knitted the day before and took them out of the oven, got back out my tweezers and tried to remove the chocolate chips.  They were all melted and everything but eventually I managed to get them out with a straw.  I replaced them with bananas because I had never heard of anyone that was allergic to bananas and I thought that was a safe bet.  After about three hours of cooking at 100 degrees they seemed warm enough to be done. 
Her apartment was a short drive away.  I got out of the car like a gentleman and rang her doorbell instead of playing my Linkin Park song so loud that she could hear it from inside and know that I was there.   Her doorbell had a nice ring to it.  Like really nice.  I loved the notes and the rhythm to the chimes and everything.  It was nicely paced and not too rushed.  It really gave off a welcoming feel. 
She answered the door with a smile. 
"Hey, I really like your doorbell," I said.
She stepped out and glanced at it. 
"How much?" I asked.
She laughed right in my face.  I assured her I wasn’t joking.
"I can’t sell you my doorbell. How would you even get it out of my house? Isn’t it built into the wall?"
"That’s not important. I’m willing to go as high as $100."  I had seen half a season of Pawn Stars; I knew what I was doing.
"500." she countered.  She knew what she was doing, too.
"Meet me in the middle at 300?"
"350."
Dang, she was good.  She must have seen at least two seasons of Pawn Stars, maybe even three.  But I really wanted those bells. 
"Alright, I can do 350," I said as I went in for the handshake.
I spent the next hour and a half punching her wall to get her doorbells out.  Then I drove home and installed them.  I forgot about the date and the banana muffins completely.

officialunitedstates:

I was nervous, I admit.  It was our second date and I wanted everything to be as close to perfect as possible.  I had even gone so far as to fill up my car with the second cheapest gasoline type.  I had no idea what it was or why anyone would ever buy it but I decided that no expense would be spared.

I had also baked some fresh muffins.  Those took me about six hours to make because I kept changing my mind on what flavor muffins I wanted.  At first, I wanted to make some with nuts but then I changed my mind after about ten minutes of them in the oven.  So, I put on my mitts I knitted the day before and took them out, promptly dug into the muffins with tweezers to remove each nut, and then decided to replace them with chocolate chips.  This worked well, until I remembered that I hadn’t asked her if she was allergic to chocolate or not and didn’t want her not to be able to have any.  So, I put on my mitts I had knitted the day before and took them out of the oven, got back out my tweezers and tried to remove the chocolate chips.  They were all melted and everything but eventually I managed to get them out with a straw.  I replaced them with bananas because I had never heard of anyone that was allergic to bananas and I thought that was a safe bet.  After about three hours of cooking at 100 degrees they seemed warm enough to be done. 

Her apartment was a short drive away.  I got out of the car like a gentleman and rang her doorbell instead of playing my Linkin Park song so loud that she could hear it from inside and know that I was there.   Her doorbell had a nice ring to it.  Like really nice.  I loved the notes and the rhythm to the chimes and everything.  It was nicely paced and not too rushed.  It really gave off a welcoming feel. 

She answered the door with a smile. 

"Hey, I really like your doorbell," I said.

She stepped out and glanced at it. 

"How much?" I asked.

She laughed right in my face.  I assured her I wasn’t joking.

"I can’t sell you my doorbell. How would you even get it out of my house? Isn’t it built into the wall?"

"That’s not important. I’m willing to go as high as $100."  I had seen half a season of Pawn Stars; I knew what I was doing.

"500." she countered.  She knew what she was doing, too.

"Meet me in the middle at 300?"

"350."

Dang, she was good.  She must have seen at least two seasons of Pawn Stars, maybe even three.  But I really wanted those bells. 

"Alright, I can do 350," I said as I went in for the handshake.

I spent the next hour and a half punching her wall to get her doorbells out.  Then I drove home and installed them.  I forgot about the date and the banana muffins completely.

(via spudslut)

Wow AHS:Freakshow, is looking so good.

Wow AHS:Freakshow, is looking so good.

(Source: american-horror-story-official, via penishole)

stayforthecredits:


Sundays.



One other thing Murray won’t do: He won’t say what he whispered to Scarlett Johansson at the end of Lost in Translation.
“I guess the answer is, there’s somethin’ that makes it impossible to tell,” he says. “But I’ll tell ya a good story about it. I’m gettin’ on the ferry at Martha’s Vineyard, and some guy yells out from across the way, ‘Bill, what’d ya say to her?’ Everyone hears him ask, and I pause for a second with my mouth open and start to speak. And as I start to speak, the foghorn sounds, about a twenty-five-second blast, and I just”—Murray starts moving his lips silently—“I acted it out like I was saying something really sincere, and the crowd laughed so hard. It was great. I couldn’t have bought that moment.” 
—  The Master: Bill Murray. Bill Murray is 64 today.

stayforthecredits:

Sundays.

One other thing Murray won’t do: He won’t say what he whispered to Scarlett Johansson at the end of Lost in Translation.

“I guess the answer is, there’s somethin’ that makes it impossible to tell,” he says. “But I’ll tell ya a good story about it. I’m gettin’ on the ferry at Martha’s Vineyard, and some guy yells out from across the way, ‘Bill, what’d ya say to her?’ Everyone hears him ask, and I pause for a second with my mouth open and start to speak. And as I start to speak, the foghorn sounds, about a twenty-five-second blast, and I just”—Murray starts moving his lips silently—“I acted it out like I was saying something really sincere, and the crowd laughed so hard. It was great. I couldn’t have bought that moment.” 

—  The Master: Bill Murray. Bill Murray is 64 today.

(via strawberrygalaxiesss)