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Lions Memes

Run Along
Run Along
Abandonment
Abandonment
Circus
Circus
are you fucking serious
are you fucking serious
drinking problem
drinking problem
have a drink
have a drink
the circus
the circus
halfs
halfs
were
were
yours
yours 

    
                    

                

            
        
    

    
    
    






            

            
            

                

                    
                

                

                    
                    
                    

                        


	


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                            You've Gotta See This Painfully Sad Lions Christmas Ornament
                        
                    

                    
                

            
        
    
        
            
                

                    

                        
                        
                        
                    

                    
                    

                        
                            Lions fans turn to memes after being hurt by refs
                        
                    

                    
                

            
        
    
    






    

    
    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        Go Lions!!!: Go Lions!!!
        

            
            

                
                
                    Go Lions!!!: Go Lions!!!
                    
                
            

            
                
                
Go Lions!!!

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        bogleech:

lynati:

movemequotes:

Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem.
On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish.
And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school.
The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…


I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it
: bogleech:

lynati:

movemequotes:

Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem.
On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish.
And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school.
The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…


I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it

        

            
            

                
                
                    bogleech:

lynati:

movemequotes:

Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem.
On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish.
And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school.
The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…


I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it
: bogleech:

lynati:

movemequotes:

Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem.
On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish.
And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school.
The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…


I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        sympathetic-deceit-trash:
maetyu-y:

bransonreese:


aurora-gleam:


slangwang:

bransonreese:

crystallotusfr:


bransonreese:

serpentking456:


notcaycepollard:

the twitter thread the artist created after this was one of the best situations i have ever seen in my whole life:

Somebody give this ignoramus a piece of actual shark skin and tell him to rub his face with it, let him find out just how “smooth” sharks really are. 


Somebody did. I use it as a pillowcase because it’s so smooth.

But buddy.


Shark skin feels exactly like sandpaper. It is made up of tiny teeth-like structures called placoid scales, also known as dermal denticles. These scales point towards the tail and help to reduce friction from surrounding water when the shark swims. … In the opposite direction, it feels very rough like sandpaper. 
((Here m8 https://www.floridamuseum.ufl.edu/fish/discover/sharks/basics ))


Buddy. It’s smooth. The link you sent me led to a website that described how smooth they are. I dunno, maybe you don’t know how to read?


this post is transcendent 


You’re thinking of dolphins. Dolphins are the ones with smooth skin that feels like a rubber beach ball.
Source: I’M A MARINE BIOLOGIST


No, I’m thinking of sharks.
Source: I’m a superior marine biologist




I always assumed….it meant smooth COMPARED to lions….
: sympathetic-deceit-trash:
maetyu-y:

bransonreese:


aurora-gleam:


slangwang:

bransonreese:

crystallotusfr:


bransonreese:

serpentking456:


notcaycepollard:

the twitter thread the artist created after this was one of the best situations i have ever seen in my whole life:

Somebody give this ignoramus a piece of actual shark skin and tell him to rub his face with it, let him find out just how “smooth” sharks really are. 


Somebody did. I use it as a pillowcase because it’s so smooth.

But buddy.


Shark skin feels exactly like sandpaper. It is made up of tiny teeth-like structures called placoid scales, also known as dermal denticles. These scales point towards the tail and help to reduce friction from surrounding water when the shark swims. … In the opposite direction, it feels very rough like sandpaper. 
((Here m8 https://www.floridamuseum.ufl.edu/fish/discover/sharks/basics ))


Buddy. It’s smooth. The link you sent me led to a website that described how smooth they are. I dunno, maybe you don’t know how to read?


this post is transcendent 


You’re thinking of dolphins. Dolphins are the ones with smooth skin that feels like a rubber beach ball.
Source: I’M A MARINE BIOLOGIST


No, I’m thinking of sharks.
Source: I’m a superior marine biologist




I always assumed….it meant smooth COMPARED to lions….

        

            
            

                
                
                    sympathetic-deceit-trash:
maetyu-y:

bransonreese:


aurora-gleam:


slangwang:

bransonreese:

crystallotusfr:


bransonreese:

serpentking456:


notcaycepollard:

the twitter thread the artist created after this was one of the best situations i have ever seen in my whole life:

Somebody give this ignoramus a piece of actual shark skin and tell him to rub his face with it, let him find out just how “smooth” sharks really are. 


Somebody did. I use it as a pillowcase because it’s so smooth.

But buddy.


Shark skin feels exactly like sandpaper. It is made up of tiny teeth-like structures called placoid scales, also known as dermal denticles. These scales point towards the tail and help to reduce friction from surrounding water when the shark swims. … In the opposite direction, it feels very rough like sandpaper. 
((Here m8 https://www.floridamuseum.ufl.edu/fish/discover/sharks/basics ))


Buddy. It’s smooth. The link you sent me led to a website that described how smooth they are. I dunno, maybe you don’t know how to read?


this post is transcendent 


You’re thinking of dolphins. Dolphins are the ones with smooth skin that feels like a rubber beach ball.
Source: I’M A MARINE BIOLOGIST


No, I’m thinking of sharks.
Source: I’m a superior marine biologist




I always assumed….it meant smooth COMPARED to lions….
: sympathetic-deceit-trash:
maetyu-y:

bransonreese:


aurora-gleam:


slangwang:

bransonreese:

crystallotusfr:


bransonreese:

serpentking456:


notcaycepollard:

the twitter thread the artist created after this was one of the best situations i have ever seen in my whole life:

Somebody give this ignoramus a piece of actual shark skin and tell him to rub his face with it, let him find out just how “smooth” sharks really are. 


Somebody did. I use it as a pillowcase because it’s so smooth.

But buddy.


Shark skin feels exactly like sandpaper. It is made up of tiny teeth-like structures called placoid scales, also known as dermal denticles. These scales point towards the tail and help to reduce friction from surrounding water when the shark swims. … In the opposite direction, it feels very rough like sandpaper. 
((Here m8 https://www.floridamuseum.ufl.edu/fish/discover/sharks/basics ))


Buddy. It’s smooth. The link you sent me led to a website that described how smooth they are. I dunno, maybe you don’t know how to read?


this post is transcendent 


You’re thinking of dolphins. Dolphins are the ones with smooth skin that feels like a rubber beach ball.
Source: I’M A MARINE BIOLOGIST


No, I’m thinking of sharks.
Source: I’m a superior marine biologist




I always assumed….it meant smooth COMPARED to lions….

                    
                
            

            
                
                
sympathetic-deceit-trash:
maetyu-y:

bransonreese:


aurora-gleam:


slangwang:

bransonreese:

crystallotusfr:


bransonreese:

serpentk...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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                                    Monday Night Football: Lions at Packers Memes
                                
                            

                            
                        

                    
                
            
                
                    
                        

                            

                                
                            

                            
                            

                                
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