March182014

herspanic:

I would betray all of you in the Hunger Games 

(via manda)

September292013
sassafranski:

San Clemente, CA

Hey! I live here! :)

sassafranski:

San Clemente, CA

Hey! I live here! :)

(via sassafranski)

April262013
April62013

Shhhh…. Here are some shots from a recent photo shoot…

March162013

Bachelor Parties and Its Bullshit

The funny thing about bachelor parties is that men complain about their fiancee/wife bringing up how they feel about strippers on the last day the men are single (as if men are the only ones committed to the relationship). Women bringing up how they feel causes men to have this internal battle about the right thing to do and some men really hate that.

Some men come to “reason” that she doesn’t trust him and/or that she’s controlling. Either way, the problem is usually her. Way to go on making her look like the bad guy while you have other naked women’s tits on your face free of guilt. Of course, some men will brush off their future wife’s wishes because it’s his night = his rules. It’s going to be a fantastic marriage.

Some men can’t compromise just because the thought of them with another naked woman makes their future wife uncomfortable. Because who cares what she feels. It’s not like your future wife compromises anything for you or will forever be catering to your needs and wishes. Forget about honoring your wife, like seriously. She might as well never bring anything up about how she feels about what he does for the rest of their life together and resign into a quiet misery. Good for him for respecting her boundaries and their relationship. Or she can try and establish boundaries with what she will or will not tolerate in a partner and you may respond by having a big fight before the wedding, awesome.

"You seriously don’t see why your future wife - the woman who’s about to pledge undying devotion to you and spend the rest of her life with you - might not want you spending an evening with a bunch of naked chicks rubbing themselves all over you? "

So what’s it gonna be? You’re making history! Because your feelings (ie hard ons for another woman) is more important and you’re gonna have a bitching night with your buds! Or you can prepare yourself and do your first duty as a husband.

Have a classy evening, ladies and gentlemen :)

Disclaimer: There are legit tyrant wives out there (and husbands). But there are valid reasons to why your wife/fiancee would feel the way she does about you and strippers (You’re an idiot and/or a huge-dick-in-denial if you didn’t think that already).

January102013
Mirror Ring ;)

Mirror Ring ;)

December142012

OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDD……….

I want you, poofy little dog! Y_Y

(Source: tommypom, via theanimalblog)

November172012

So I played paintball today… And this is pretty much how I played.

October142012
September212012

Nurse Fact #4854

image

If you’re not sweating in your crack, you’re not doing it right.

September122012
July302012

Nurse Facts #1256

When I was in nursing school, an instructor asked me if I drink. I said no, which was true at the time. She said, “Well, nursing will fix that. You’ll be drinking in no time.”

July272012
anewstartt:

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.Later, when the nurses were going through his meagre possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.One nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The old man’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this ‘anonymous’ poem winging across the Internet. Cranky Old ManWhat do you see nurses? What do you see?What are you thinking when you’re looking at me?A cranky old man, not very wise,Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?Who dribbles his food and makes no reply.When you say in a loud voice, ‘I do wish you’d try!’Who seems not to notice the things that you do.And forever is losing a sock or shoe?Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill?Is that what you’re thinking? Is that what you see?Then open your eyes, nurse. You’re not looking at me.I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.I’m a small child of ten, with a father and mother,Brothers and sisters who love one anotherA young boy of sixteen with wings on his feetDreaming that soon now  a lover he’ll meet.A groom soon at twenty my heart gives a leap.Remembering, the vows that I promised to keep.At twenty-five, now I have young of my own.Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.A man of thirty, my young now grown fast,Bound to each other with ties that should last.At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,But my woman is beside me to see I don’t mourn.At fifty, once more, babies play ‘round my knee,Again, we know children, my loved one and me.Dark days are upon me. My wife is now dead.I look at the future. I shudder with dread.For my young are all rearing young of their own.And I think of the years, and the love that I’ve known.I’m now an old man and nature is cruel.It’s jest to make old age look like a fool.The body, it crumbles. Grace and vigour, depart.There is now a stone where I once had a heart.But inside this old carcass, A young man still dwells,And now and again my battered heart swells.I remember the joys, I remember the pain.And I’m loving and living life over again.I think of the years, all too few, gone too fast.And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.So open your eyes, people. Open and see.Not a cranky old man.Look closer .. See.. Me. Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within. We will all one day be there too!

anewstartt:

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through his meagre possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.

One nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The old man’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.

And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this ‘anonymous’ poem winging across the Internet. 

Cranky Old Man

What do you see nurses? What do you see?
What are you thinking when you’re looking at me?
A cranky old man, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice, ‘I do wish you’d try!’
Who seems not to notice the things that you do.
And forever is losing a sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill?
Is that what you’re thinking? Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse. You’re not looking at me.
I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I’m a small child of ten, with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters who love one another
A young boy of sixteen with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now  a lover he’ll meet.
A groom soon at twenty my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows that I promised to keep.
At twenty-five, now I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.
A man of thirty, my young now grown fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me to see I don’t mourn.
At fifty, once more, babies play ‘round my knee,
Again, we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me. My wife is now dead.
I look at the future. I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing young of their own.
And I think of the years, and the love that I’ve known.
I’m now an old man and nature is cruel.
It’s jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles. Grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass, A young man still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, I remember the pain.
And I’m loving and living life over again.
I think of the years, all too few, gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people. Open and see.
Not a cranky old man.
Look closer .. See.. Me. 

Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within. We will all one day be there too!

(via nurse-on-duty)

July212012

Seriously, it’s all you need.

(via failstun)

ehehe 

June252012
sebastienmillon:

Smart guy, that Thoreau.

sebastienmillon:

Smart guy, that Thoreau.

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