I hope when you die you get to see your stats like how many times you laughed or told a lie or kissed or how many people loved you and how many people hated you and what you meant to people
- (via coralshit)
does your brain ever just produce disturbingly violent thoughts out of nowhere
like terrible, horrible, thoughts
for no reason at all
and then you snap out of it and you’re like
i don’t want to kill my mom
what the fuck
they’re called intrusive thoughts and apparently are very common
Gordon Ramsay is my favorite.
i just want to hug all of them
Fun story. I cooked for this dude, once. I did my kitchen apprenticeship at the family-style restaurant of one of New Zealand’s premiere chefs, and he knew Ramsay really well. He was in New Zealand for a few weeks, and Martin brought him by the restaurant to check it out. It was right on the beach, fucking gorgeous. I was the only one there (apprentice = bitch work = 4am starting shifts), and they asked me to whip up some breakfast for them. It was SUPER simple, fried fish, eggs cooked in bread, sausages. He was incredibly gracious and kind, asked me to join them (I couldn’t, too much work to do, so they sat at the kitchen window so they could talk to me), and was super interested in hearing about my english grandma, who had taught me how to cook. I won’t hear a single bad word against this man, for all of his kitchen hysterics, he treated me like an equal.gordon ramsay fandom
If you’re not in the Gordon Ramsay fandom you’re wrong.