bromar:

*goes to england*

me: excuse me, what time is it?

brit: time wots that m8?

*big ben chimes*

everyone starts to count the bongs on their fingers*

brit: OI IT’S 7 BONG

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They were smiling at each other as if this was the beginning of the world.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Love of the Last Tycoon (via oiseauperdu)
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