dirtsgrb-blog

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I love my cute baby girl ❤️❤️🐭🦄

#tbt. #This Is So Cute #And Such #A Charlie Kelly Thing! #he wld buy baby rats i feel snzzz even if he kills the ones in the basement #tbh he only kills the ones who try to bite him otherwise he tries to befriend them !

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                  ❛     I     DID     IT     ,     ❜             hysteria     is     sweet     ;     the     honey     ―     comb     heart     is     pressed     to     the     lioness’     mouth     .         she     eats     it     raw     ,     &.     without     delay     .             watch     her     gnaw     on     the     marrow     of     the     deceased     ,     dining     on     the     throats     of     calla     ―     lilies     ,     gripping     their     slender     necks     with     jasmine     hands     .         you     loved     her     ,     you     think     /     you’ve     been     told     .         squeeze     the     organ     placed     on     open     palms     :     you     make     wine     from     what     lay     ‘tween     lungs     &.     ribs     .         there     lies     an     earthquake     within     your     knees     &.     a     river     in     your     eyes     ;     again     &.     again     you     beg     for     salvation     from     a     deity     with     a     broken     crown     .         ❛     i     killed     ――――     him     ,     adelyn     .     i     did     it     .     ❜        @ensavaged 

#ensavaged #tbt. #u think i wldnt do it ? #i did it

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           ONE    ,    TWO    ,    THREE    ,    FOUR    ,    FOUR    ,    FOUR    ――――    lazily    does    he    count    the    flies    that    buzz    around    him    ,    eating    /    nesting    in    a    rotting    piece    of    meat    .       he    is    amused    by    the    quiet    chatter    between    insects    ,    forming    stories    between    the    spaces    between    their    wings    .       the    summer    wind    scorches    cherry    ―    kissed    cheeks    ,    sweat    covering    honey    ―    flushed    skin    .       charlie    looks    up    &.    to    his    right    ;    studies    the    man    who    worked    under    routine    .       hypnotized       by    the    swing    of    his    arm    ,    the    thud    of    knife    hitting    flesh    ,    he    hums    quietly    .       it    doesn’t    take    long    before    disinterest    makes    a    home    upon    his    shoulders    ,    which    would    result    in    charlie’s    inquiry    .       ❛    do    you    think    they    understand    what    we    say    ?    the    flies    ?    ❜    @vicviinegar  

#vicviinegar #tbt. #at least he knows his 1 2 3 4s mac . #hfjkfhkjfh

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PORG MASTER .

‘ a reason to live. ’

                 ❛     do     you     mean     ,     like     ,     they     taste     good     dude    ?     ❜

#filiblaster #I WANNA A NA F UC KIGNG DIE C HA RLIE #THS IS SI SO FUNNY TO M

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     ❛      what      the      fuck’s      a      porg      ?      ❜   /  @filiblaster

#filiblaster #i wanna . um . die .

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You Know I’m No Good | Amy Winehouse

#aes. #we out here ...

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*    DENNIS   :    perhaps  heaven  isn’t  meant  for  the  likes  of  me  .

    There is a pain inside of me     &     it flares like a billion flames burning up the night sky.     There is a pain inside of me    ,     &     it moves swiftly like a rose    -    gold ballet    ,     deftly    ,     managing to seduce me with its glamour     &     gore.     There is a pain inside of me    ,         &     it creeks ‘tween my ribs like the doorsteps of my step    -    father’s old summer home.    I recall how carefree we once were    :     my sister     &     I.     Her    ,     in a cotton    -    white summer chemise    ,     &     I    ,     in nothing but my swimming trunks    ,     the ochre sun pouring ‘tween my shoulder blades    ,     our downy limbs exposed to the world.     There was a time when the cruelty of my mother’s iron fist    ,     became like a second language.     I would come to understand her alternating moods as one does a change in seasons.      Winter was melancholy    ,     the rich greens of spring were greed    ,     summer was lackadaisical      &     cool like the sea,          fall was nostalgic    :     she spoke to my sister     &     I least during those months.     Perhaps    ,     reminiscing about the days when she was still young     &     desirable    ;     before we had ruined her nubile form with the burden of birth.     But Mother always loved me best    ,         &     so    ,     I feared her disapproval more than disease    ,     or famine    ,     or war.     I lived for her praise.

    But there has always been a monster within me.     A hungry villain who sought to destroy     &     conquer.     To tear villages asunder     &     rule like the emperors of Rome.    He was first borne when     SHE     touched me.     Something within me had broke that day    ,     snapped    ,     like the strings of the violin my mother insisted I learn to play.     There is no feeling colder    ,     more vile    ,     than losing your innocence at such a tender age    ;     no breeze that can chill with the same intensity    ,     no hideously grotesque boogeyman who could frighten me more than the glare of her eye    -    glasses in passing.     I was drowning.     For months I lamented in my misery    ,     in the self    -    hatred that burned at me like Hell’s fire.     One night    ,     while it was storming    ,     as we lay under the covers looking through our step-father’s crude magazines    ,     I confided in my darling sister about that afternoon.     Mauled over the details that had haunted me for so long.     She swore to never tell anyone what she had learned    ,     promised    ,     that this would remain our dirty little secret.     But I did not trust her    ,     for Deandra was as much devil as me.     &     we were twins.

    &     then I met     HIM.     He was sweet     &     kind    ,     puppy    -    eyed     &     dog    -    eared.     &     I think to myself    ,     this is the kind of man who will worship me till my eyes fall from their gaping sockets    ,     &     I am old    ,     &     decrepit    ,    &     young no more.     He is perfect in every way    ,     from the determined line of his adolescent muscles to the hilt of his nose    ,     I understood then    ,     that he would grow up to be a great     &     noble man.     A handsome suitor.         &     he would be all mine.     Thus    ,     I sank my fangs into him    ,     &     to no surprise    ,     he grew fond of the pain    ,     enjoyed how I preened him as masters do their prized pets.

    A pour the wine from my the bejewelled decanter into my glass first    ,     then his     -     I have no room for manners    ,     I am too much of an egomaniac.     The crimson liquid settles    ,     I watch as it floats delicately within the parameters of the goblet.    I consider the physics of this    ;     it keeps me from breaking the nearest vase over his head.     Laughing    ,     as I lick my lips of his blood.     Despite my mind whirling into temptatious madness    ,     I remain calm    :     time is frugal.     ‘     Your stomach doesn’t hurt    ,     Charlie.     To me    -     it just seems like you’re desperate to get out of this dinner.     Isn’t that the case    ?    ’     I chuckle.     ‘     Well    ,     at least have a bite before you go    ,     don’t be so     RUDE    .    ’

                  THERE     HAVE     ONLY     BEEN     THREE     INSTANCES     WHERE     I     FOUND     MYSELF     SAYING     THE     WORDS     :     I     LOVE     YOU     .             i     .     )                 i     was     nothing     but     a     child     ;     mother     held     me     dear     &.     close     to     her     heart     .                 i     recall     the     hazy     outline     of     her     figure     ,     the     warmth     of     her     hands     ,     &.     her     red     ―     painted     mouth     .                 against     my     ear     ,     i     heard     the     gentle     beat     of     her     heart     ,     &.     how     she     promised     me     that     it     was     mine     .                 i     laughed     ,     digging     my     fingers     into     her     skin     ,     greedily     looking     for     the     organ     sworn     to     me     .                 she     was     mine     &.     mine     alone     ,     i     was     reassured     !             but     at     night     ,     i     lay     awake     ,     running     my     young     hands     ‘gainst     creased     fabric     :     cold     &.     empty     .                 i         hear     the     gentle     thud     of     man     against     wood     ,     the     shrill     cry     of     a     woman     in     pain     ,     the     deafening     grunt     of     a     man     i’ve     never     known     existed     .                 i     remember         the     way     my     heart     raced     ,     the     way     my     hands     seemed     to     weep     with     sweat     ――――     i     was     terrified     !                 where     was     the     woman     promised     to     me     /     where     was     my     mother     ?             i     shook     &.     thrashed     about     ,     echoing     the     noises     beyond     my     bedroom     wall     .                 i     pound     my     fists     upon     old     drywall     ,     knuckles     bleeding     &.     bruised     .             each     carnal     grunt     is     answered     by     a     hiccup     &.     a     sob     ,     each     ungodly     thrust     echoed     by     another     fist     into     the     wall     .                 (      *      MOTHER     ,     COME     BACK     .     MOTHER     ,     I     LOVE     YOU     .      )                  

                     ii     .     )                  his     kisses     taste     like     honey     &.     scotch     ,     warming     my     throat     &.     chest     &.     mouth     .                 the     sun     envied     him     &.     resided     in         every     smile     offered     to     me     .     he     was     an     angel     ,     i     believed     .                 he     was         every     saint     in     scripture     ,     every     divine     entity     that     resided     between     verses     &.     hymns     .                 he     was     every     poet’s     dream     ,         every     artist’s     muse         !                 i         love         him     ,     i     love     him     ,     i     love     him     .                     i     don’t     think     i     shall     ever     tire     of     saying     the     phrase     !             once     ,     i     felt     his     fingers     press     ‘gainst     the     apple     of         my     cheek     ,     &.     he     seemed     to     pick     the     love     out     of     me     .                 see     how     i     bloomed     a     mighty     ,     almost     embarrassingly     ,     red     ;     o’     i     was     the     envy     of     every     spring     rose     .                 he     laughed     ,     &.     it     sounded     like     song     .                 i     wanted     to     hear     it     again     &.     again     &.     again     .             a     moon     ―     less     night     consisted     of     the     drunken     press     of     mouths     ,     confused     /     exploring     .             here     ,     i     confessed     to     him     like     a     sinner     to     a     saint         .                 impassioned     ,     i     babbled     like     a     fool     ,     skipping     &.     tripping     on     my     syllables     .                 how     long     i     waited     for     a     moment     so     golden     ,     how     long     i     yearned     for     it     !                 kissing     him     felt     like     kissing     gold     ;     he’s     all     i’ve     ever     wanted     ,     you     see     .                 (     *     I     LOVE     YOU     ,     I     LOVE     YOU     ,     I     LOVE     YOU     .         )                 

                 iii     .     )             i     return     to     the     night     of     my     childhood     ,     where     fear     is     familiar     &.     has     made     a     home     in     my     lungs     .                 it     shakes     me     like     winter’s     tempest     ,     leaves     me     with     rattling     bones     &.     frozen     hands         .             he         terrifies     me     ,     i     must     confess     .                 he     is     beautiful     ,     a     custom     ―     made     behemoth     !                 the     gods     have     spat     out     a     demon     perfectly     made     for     me     ;     he     is     dressed     in     reds     &.     golds     &.     purples     ,     the     colors     of     the     righteous     ,     the     colors     of     the     gods         !                 he         tips     my     head     back     ,     parts     my     mouth     with     his     ,     &.     he     lets     sweetness     drip     into     my     throat     .                 he     kisses     me     with     teeth     &.     sharpened     nails     ,     feeds     me     with     cherries     &.     lets     me     choke     on     their     pits     .       he     forces     me      to      confess       words       of         faux          adoration     ,      &.     so     i      do     ,     in     hopes     that      i      could     escape      .             I     LOVE     YOU     ,     I     THINK     .             I     LOVE     YOU     /     I     MUST     .      

                               HE     WANTS     TO     KILL     ME     ,     this     much     i     can     gather     .                 like     prey     to     predator     ,     i         sense     this     danger         ,     this     incoming     doom     .                 i     need     to     escape     ,     i     need     to     escape     ,     THERE     IS     NO     ESCAPE     .             panic     bubbles     in     me     ,     dark     &.     sticky     ,     &.     it     causes     me     to     stand     from     my     seat     ,     perhaps     a     little     too     quickly     .                 my     chair     falls     &.     so     does     my     knife     ;     the     thud     &.     clatter     of     metal     &.     wood     creates     a     sound     too     loud     for     a     night     like     this     .                 in     panic     ,     i     brush     my     fork     so     it     falls     as     well     .                     some     people     would     call     this     idiotic     ,     while     i     would     call     it     symmetry     .                 i     gulp     a     mouth     full     of     thorns     ,     noises     escaping     my     throat     like     a     newborn     babe     ,     shaking     /     unsure     .                 again     &.     again     ,     i     open     my     mouth     ,     trying     to     patch     &.     build     sentences     i     deem     appropriate     for     the     situation     .                 i     come     up     empty     ―     handed     ,     thus     ,     without     a     word     ,     i     run     .                     alas     ,     the     mighty     falls     !                 i     trip     on     my     own     foot     ,     &.     feel     my     teeth     clack     &.     rip     the     skin     of     my     mouth     ,     resulting     in     perhaps     a     gruesome     display     of     skin     &.     muscle     .                  

                       ❛     shit     ――――     !         dude     ,     i’m     so     sorry     but     i     really     got     to     go     ,     i     just     ――――     someone’s     calling     me     man     ,     i     gotta     go     answer     it     !     ❜

#hughhoncy #long post / #third :-) time's :-) the :-) charm :-)

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Loser | Beck

#tbt #charlie mood . mp4 #a bitch is bck !

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    FOR MY DEAREST ANGEL    ,     JAEL.     Babe    ,     I love you so much     &     I’m so happy you’re safe.     I can’t begin to describe just how much our friendship means to me    ,     despite us not knowing each other for very long.     It all started with Deckard wanting to bang Dennis    ,     & now you’re here    ,     in always sunny hell    ,     ruling beside me     &     my giant ass meme throne.     But all joking aside    ,     I just wanted to say that you’re a brilliant    ,     wonderful    ,     stunning individual.     Your talent goes above     &     beyond that of an average writer on Tumblr    ,     &     I am so happy to have the honour of interacting with you.     You are a daily light in my life     &     your company makes me feel so warm     !!!!     You are so kind    -    hearted    ,     brave    ,     &     inspiring    ,     &     I am so glad to call you one of my best friends.     HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LOVE     !        /  /  @dirtsgrb

#save. #what a doll ! #angelus ? my bff ? more likely than u think xo !

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I loved him, I adored him. And I don’t know why I write that in the past tense, for I love him still.

Marcel Proust, from a letter to Reynaldo Hahn c. October 1914 (via violentwavesofemotion)

#mac / charlie. #😏🤔 #vicviinegar

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bob newby and charlie kelly smoke pot and swap conspiracy theories on the regular.

#add on : they will not stop talking about pyramids . thats all im saying #charlie screams about carol and bob screams about egypt . #they get along needless to say . #save.

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anyways if you haven’t already known, i love @hughhoncy a lot . let me talk to you about my dear friend angelus . this boy ? this Dad of mine ? he is so sweet & kind , & so fucking inspiring ? he does things for people without wanting much in return , he pours his heart & soul into denn/is re/ynolds without doing the very common mistake of people in the fandom : watering him down / fetishizing him . angelus is so talented in ways more than one , i mean have you seen him draw ???? that shit belongs in the moma , dude . he’s so funny & i make sure i talk to him once a day because honestly i can’t see myself spending the day without at least saying hi to the lov of my life ? the apple 2 my pie ? the d/addy to my boy ? angelus makes me the happiest girl alive , if you haven’t already seen , & if you don’t follow him & you follow me : you’re clearly missing out . he’s why i made this blog in the first place . anyways , if you’re reading this angelus , remember that i love you so so so fucking much !!!

#he my bestfriend !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #i lov u

[dirtsgrb-blog]

 *   DENNIS  :   perhaps  heaven  isn’t  for  the  likes  of  me  .

    I exist.     I rot.     I decay.     I become as a God birthed in an ephemeral cosmos of pacific blues     &     bruised purples    ;     I bare eight arms     &     three heads    ,     I am a thing of palpable ugliness.     With my belly full of ephemeral blood     &     stars    ,     I rule as one named Huitzilopochtli    ,    waiting    ,     scheming    ,      for the still    -    beating hearts of mortal    -    surrender    ,     tongue heavy     &     red.     Providence requires sacrifice    ,     from the stone    -    paved roads of Byzantine to the limestone Templo Mayor of Tenochtitlan.     &    what about the misfits    ?     The underdogs    ?     The Freesia that grows ‘twist your ribs of gilt syrup    ,     gold dripping down your elongated spine with a staccato elegance    ?     What has become of your antecedents    ,     the sushchestva that have fashioned you so robust     &     handsome    ?     He    -    devil.      Lucifer.     Morning    -    star.     I bow before thee     &     drinketh the bitter vinegar of your jurisdiction.         *     (      À grands maux, grands remèdes.     /     Aux grands maux, les grands remèdes.     )         Because    ,     I was born to be cruel    ,     with a mouth full of my mother’s gore     &     cocaine    -    sworn lips.     &     each kiss will be his damnation    ,     ‘fore I am an addiction    ,     I am lust    ,     &      I  inspire his obsession, with a simple nod of the pinky or the downwards dip of my ample chin.     I OWN HIM.     

    &     I am a forest fire wearing skin.     From the right angle    ,     you can catch smoke coiling through the veins on my wrist    ,     pretty as a Summer’s day.     But fire is always hungry until ash kingdom.     &     what king is there that would want to rule in a city that is made of soot    ?          *     (     He is a weapon    ,     a killer.     Do not forget it.     You can use a spear as a walking stick    ,     but that will not change its nature.     )         Cold bright eyes     &     claws like a dragon's    :     breathe fire not air.     How do you tame men with wildfire limbs    ?     How do you hold down boys with hurricane hands    ?     Oh    ,     you can not    ,     Humble Hungerer.     You’ve just got to help them rise.     Thus    ,     fear god-born Acchiles    ,     divinity weaving him stronger    ,     taller    ,     bigger.     ‘     Sometimes I get bored having dinner all by myself.     Better with some company.    ’

    Once love had cracked me open     &     I am alive to tell the tale     -     but not honestly.     Let it be here     -     in the sweet sun    -     a fiction    ,     while I breathe     &     change pace.

            i     .             I     HAVE     MET     THE     DEVIL     WHEN     I     WAS     JUST     A     CHILD     .                 he     promised     me     silver     &     gold     ,     fed     me     milk     &     honey     .             from     gangly     limbs     bloomed     broken     praise     ,     from     open     maw     came     sugar     ―     sweet     kisses     that     landed     ‘pon     me     like     august     rain     .             he     scooped     me     up     &     swallowed     me     whole     ,     spitting     out     a     shell     of     a     boy     ,     of     a     child     !             i     can     recall     the     memory     of     my     pointing     to     shadows     ,     borne     from     dancing     curtains     &     autumn     ―     time     drafts     ,     &     the     way     his     name     simply     fell     from     my     mouth     like     song     .                 he     is     burnt     oak     ,     rotten     from     the     core     ,     maggots     nesting     ‘thin     the     grooves     of  ��  dead     bark     &     falling     leaves     .             from     pleasant     breezes     came     whispers     of     sickening     fascination     :     he     loved     me     ,     he     said     ,     hands     on     my     hips     ,     words     on     my     nape     .                 i     loved     him     too     ,     i     was     taught     .                  

            ii     .                 THE     DEVIL     RETURNED     TO     ME     IN     THE     FORM     OF     A     DREAM     .                 i     remember     his     laugh     ,     the     way     he     held     my     face     .                 he     parted     my     mouth     &     ran     his     fingers     down     my     tongue     .                 i     wept     in     his     arms     .             he     simply     laughed     .             from     his     head     ,     decapitated     ,     bloomed     a     garden     of     dead     lobelias     &     thorned     ivies     ;     from     his     mouth     ,     which     laid     ‘pon     my     chest     ,     he     whispered     faux     scripture     &     rotting     hyms     .             he     has     locked     the     doors     behind     me     ,     tells     me     that     i     am     home     .                 he     feeds     me     crumbled     pastries     /     transpicuous     wine     .                 he     sings     broken     sonnets     &     writes     poetry     in     tongues     i     fail     to     understand     .                 he     told     me     that     there     shall     be     no     escape     .                 there     is     no     escape     .             there     is     no     escape     .             THERE     IS     NO     ESCAPE     .            

           iii     .             DIVINITY     TASTED     LIKE     SUNLIGHT     &     ROSE     ―     WINE     .         bee     ―     stung     cheeks     &     crooked     smiles     ,     i     have     discovered     love     &     it     resided     in     dusty     bars     &     broken     beer     bottles     .             he     has     ensnared     my     heart     with     sleazy     humor     ,     with     misplaced     kisses     .                 he     picked     me     apart     like     spring     ―     time’s     florret     :     HE     LOVES     ME     /     HE     LOVES     ME     NOT     /     HE     LOVES     ME     !                 alas     ,     spring     turns     into     fall     /     day     becomes     night     .             i     was     blinded     ,     captivated     :     he     has     stolen     everything     from     me     !                 i     wonder     ,     albeit     briefly     ,     why     god     gave     me     a     taste     of     heaven     when     it     is     not     meant     for     me     .             

               iv     .             I     FINALLY     RETURN     ,     FEASTING     WITH     THE     DEVIL     .                 a     dream     turned     prediction     ,     he     feeds     me     ersatz     adoration     /     a     twisted     obsession     .                 he     hand     ―     picks     aphrodite’s     cherries     &     stains     my     lips     red     ,     he     sings     his     winter’d     lullabies     /     depraved     psalms     .                 i     have     lost     my     appetite     at     this     point     ,     &     can     only     stare     at     the     picturesque     meal     he     has     so     graciously     prepared     .             i     blink     ,     once     ,     twice     ,     thrice     .             i     think     of     my     friend     ,     where     does     he     hide     ?             i     push     my     plate     forward     ,     the     unkind     clink     of     metal     ‘pon     porcelain     echoing     in     my     ears     .                 i     can     hear     the     train     rumble     from     here     &     i     realize     how     far     from     home     i     have     become     . 

                 ❛     yeah     ,     but     .             don’t     you     have     family     ?                 why     can’t     you     eat     with     your     sister     instead     ――――     ‘cause     ,     i     think     i     need     to     go     home     man     .             my     stomach     hurts     .     ❜    

#hughhoncy #long post / #3rd times the charm ig #ask to tag #tbt

[dirtsgrb-blog]

who wants 2 write a thread where someone dares charlie to go under that weird fucking cave tunnel like thing under city hall

#he's genuinely terrified .

[dirtsgrb-blog]

     hello , consider this a starter / plotting call !

#a Gurl is abt to do some Major Writig tonight

[dirtsgrb-blog]

i tried to write about your eyes but i ran out of cliches i tried to say you plainly but there wasn’t enough truth whoever invented this language didn’t anticipate you

#mac / charlie. #tbt #holy fuck #vicviinegar #im tagging u ... just for funsies

[dirtsgrb-blog]

ronald "mac" mcdonald , oil on canvas , 2017

#i hope i get hacked n skmeone deletes thjs