Sodium is named NA in honor of the saltiest region on earth, North America
twitchquotes:Sodium, atomic number 11, was first isolated by Humphry Davy in 1807. A chemical component of salt, he named it Na in honor of the saltiest region on earth, North America.
Sodium, atomic number 11, was first isolated by Humphry Davy in 1807. A chemical component of salt, he named it Na in honor of the saltiest region on earth, North America.
I miss the old Harambe
twitchquotes:I miss the old Harambe. Straight from the zoo Harambe. Eating his food Harambe. No attitude Harambe. I hate the new Harambe. Shot by a dude Harambe. The Youtube views Harambe. Up in the news Harambe. I miss the sweet Harambe. Playing with kids Harambe. I gotta say at that time I'd like to meet Harambe. See I invented Harambe. It wasnt any Harambes. And now i look and look around and there's no more Harambes.
I miss the old Harambe. Straight from the zoo Harambe. Eating his food Harambe. No attitude Harambe. I hate the new Harambe. Shot by a dude Harambe. The Youtube views Harambe. Up in the news Harambe. I miss the sweet Harambe. Playing with kids Harambe. I gotta say at that time I'd like to meet Harambe. See I invented Harambe. It wasnt any Harambes. And now i look and look around and there's no more Harambes.
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink.
"Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave.
Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette.
"Got a spare?" she asks.
"What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles.
"Conversation with me, duh."
I laugh.
"What's so funny?" she protests.
"Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?"
"You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter.
"What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask.
"Teaching, I think."
"And if I was your student, what would I be learning?"
"Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?"
"Bermuda," I say.
"Oh wow. That's lovely."
"It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking."
"What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires.
"I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink.
"Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave.
Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette.
"Got a spare?" she asks.
"What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles.
"Conversation with me, duh."
I laugh.
"What's so funny?" she protests.
"Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?"
"You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter.
"What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask.
"Teaching, I think."
"And if I was your student, what would I be learning?"
"Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?"
"Bermuda," I say.
"Oh wow. That's lovely."
"It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking."
"What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires.
"I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."
Hello. My name is Inigo Dongtoya
twitchquotes:ヽ༼ ͠ ͠°〜 ͜ʖ〜 ͠ ͠° ༽ノ¤=[———— Hello. My name is Inigo Dongtoya. You killed my Kappa. Prepare to die.
ヽ༼ ͠ ͠°〜 ͜ʖ〜 ͠ ͠° ༽ノ¤=[———— Hello. My name is Inigo Dongtoya. You killed my Kappa. Prepare to die.
"Based"? Are "Based"? Are you fucking kidding me?
"Based"? Are you fucking kidding me? I spent a decent portion of my life writing all of that and your response to me is "Based"? Are you so mentally handicapped that the only word you can comprehend is "Based" - or are you just some fucking asshole who thinks that with such a short response, he can make a statement about how meaningless what was written was? Well, I'll have you know that what I wrote was NOT meaningless, in fact, I even had my written work proof-read by several professors of literature. Don't believe me? I doubt you would, and your response to this will probably be "Based" once again. Do I give a fuck? No, does it look like I give even the slightest fuck about five fucking letters? I bet you took the time to type those five letters too, I bet you sat there and chuckled to yourself for 20 hearty seconds before pressing "send". You're so fucking pathetic. I'm honestly considering directing you to a psychiatrist, but I'm simply far too nice to do something like that. You, however, will go out of your way to make a fool out of someone by responding to a well-thought-out, intelligent, or humorous statement that probably took longer to write than you can last in bed with a chimpanzee. What do I have to say to you? Absolutely nothing. I couldn't be bothered to respond to such a worthless attempt at a response. Do you want "Based" on your gravestone?
"Based"? Are you fucking kidding me? I spent a decent portion of my life writing all of that and your response to me is "Based"? Are you so mentally handicapped that the only word you can comprehend is "Based" - or are you just some fucking asshole who thinks that with such a short response, he can make a statement about how meaningless what was written was? Well, I'll have you know that what I wrote was NOT meaningless, in fact, I even had my written work proof-read by several professors of literature. Don't believe me? I doubt you would, and your response to this will probably be "Based" once again. Do I give a fuck? No, does it look like I give even the slightest fuck about five fucking letters? I bet you took the time to type those five letters too, I bet you sat there and chuckled to yourself for 20 hearty seconds before pressing "send". You're so fucking pathetic. I'm honestly considering directing you to a psychiatrist, but I'm simply far too nice to do something like that. You, however, will go out of your way to make a fool out of someone by responding to a well-thought-out, intelligent, or humorous statement that probably took longer to write than you can last in bed with a chimpanzee. What do I have to say to you? Absolutely nothing. I couldn't be bothered to respond to such a worthless attempt at a response. Do you want "Based" on your gravestone?