literalliterature:

whatis2plus2:

child-of-dolora:

patrickat:

child-of-dolora:

patrickat:

child-of-dolora:

patrickat:

child-of-dolora:

patrickat:

child-of-dolora:

patrickat:

Anyone want to write the poem that begins:

My name’s Valjean…

And ends with:

I steal the bred.

?

My name’s Valjean;

I know this nite

(though candlestix

are gleeming brite)

my sister’s childe

might soon be ded.

I cannot wait –

I steal the bred.

My name’s Javert
I gard the law.
You rob’d a house
That’s wat I saw.
Fiv years wer owed
Until you fled
Nineteen all told –
You stole the bred!

He was my guessed
At Bishop’s haus
And early left
(silent as maus)
But slipped his mind
on leaving quik;
forgot the best –
so take these stix!

My name’s Fantine
The nite is cold
To save my childe
Myself I’ve sold
All of ten francs
Is wat they sed
What can I do? –
I shav my hed.

I am Valjean
And none shall herm
Yur yung Cosette:
I keep her warm.
So sleep, Fantine
And she’ll be ther
when yu awake.
Here comes Javert!

Our nam, monsieur?
Thenardier!
For our gud dede
What will you pay?
5000 francs –
You get the gist –
And dear Colette
(:: elbows :: Cosette)
Will not be mist

Oh come now, you can’t skip my favorite song.

Wen yung I’d dreme
I’d meet a prinz
(but have you seen
wuttz happend sinze?)
He ain’t Voltaire;
this shitty louse
is master now
of publik howse.

I am Javert
My way’s the Lord
For thos who fall
The flam, the sord!
Let me see him
Saf behind bars.
There’s no escap –
I swer by stars.

The peepul sing
like angry men;
they will not be
those slayves agin.
there beeting hearts
like noisy drums –
there life restarts.
tomorrow comes!

Dont you fret
I feel no Payne
And won’t be hert
By falling rayne.

Pleese don’t die
Deer God above
I heel your wounds
With wourds of lov.

You keep me safe
That’s wat you sed
But looke monsieur –
‘Ponine is ded.

My nayme’s Gavroche
And tho I mite
Be just a pup
I’ve stille got bite!
I’ll clymb over
The barricayde
And help my frends
Before I’m slayed.

sir-hathaway:

gryffinpoor:

dudemanbropants:

gryffinpoor:

thepreciousthing:

the-ordinary-nerd:

ask-or-rp-with-will-petrisous:

squad16:

finalellipsis:

bestnatesmithever:

What if it bites me and it dies?

that means you’re poisonous. jesus christ, nate, learn to read.

What if it bites itself and I die?

It’s voodoo.

What if it bites me and someone else dies?

That’s correlation, not causation.

what if we bite each other and neither of us die

that’s kinky

oh my god

this is still my favorite text post collaboration ever

terminallydepraved:

charlesoberonn:

nexya:

I love how humans have literally not changed throughout history like the graffiti from Pompeii has people from hundreds of years ago writing stuff like “Marcus is gay” “I fucked a girl here” “Julius your mum wishes she was with me” and leonardo da vinci’s assistants drew dicks in their notebooks just for the banter and mozart created a piece called “kiss my ass” so when people wish for ‘today’s generation’ to be like ‘how people used to’ then we’re already there buddy we’ve always been

The Hagia Sophia has inscriptions that were considered sacred for centuries until they were deciphered in the 70s to be Nordic runes saying “Halfdan wrote this”

my old english prof told us that theres a cave in Scandinavia where a viking gratified some runes like 14 feet up on the wall and when they finally reached it all it translated into was “this is very high”