how to make


                    
                    
                

                

                

            

        
    







            

            
            

                

                    
                

                

                    

                        


	

	
    

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    how to make: How to make ramen with microwaev??
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                how to make: How to make ramen with microwaev??
                
            

            
            
How to make ramen with microwaev??

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            







    how to make: How to make ramen with microwaev?? by azidthenawi
MORE MEMES
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                how to make: How to make ramen with microwaev?? by azidthenawi
MORE MEMES
                
            

            
            
How to make ramen with microwaev?? by azidthenawi
MORE MEMES

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            







    how to make: undergroundwubwubmaster:

Flower bath relax time - idk how to make stuff look wet and at this point its too awkward to ask
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                how to make: undergroundwubwubmaster:

Flower bath relax time - idk how to make stuff look wet and at this point its too awkward to ask
                
            

            
            
undergroundwubwubmaster:

Flower bath relax time - idk how to make stuff look wet and at this point its too awkward to ask

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            







    how to make: Do I need to hire a cow to show you how to make milk?!
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                how to make: Do I need to hire a cow to show you how to make milk?!
                
            

            
            
Do I need to hire a cow to show you how to make milk?!

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            







    how to make: 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

    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                how to make: 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.”“G...

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            







    how to make: How to make content 101
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                how to make: How to make content 101
                
            

            
            
How to make content 101

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            







    how to make: Top ten tips on how to make a meme.
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                how to make: Top ten tips on how to make a meme.
                
            

            
            
Top ten tips on how to make a meme.

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            







    how to make: awesomage:

Low Risk Investing with Florida Tax Certificates: How to Make Money with Florida taxes 
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                how to make: awesomage:

Low Risk Investing with Florida Tax Certificates: How to Make Money with Florida taxes 
                
            

            
            
awesomage:

Low Risk Investing with Florida Tax Certificates: How to Make Money with Florida taxes 

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            







    how to make: How to make friends
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                how to make: How to make friends
                
            

            
            
How to make friends

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            







    how to make: lolzandtrollz:

How To Make A Brownie In A Mug
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                how to make: lolzandtrollz:

How To Make A Brownie In A Mug
                
            

            
            
lolzandtrollz:

How To Make A Brownie In A Mug

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            







    how to make: How to make daddy proud #101
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                how to make: How to make daddy proud #101
                
            

            
            
How to make daddy proud #101

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            







    how to make: He always knows how to make me happy
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                how to make: He always knows how to make me happy
                
            

            
            
He always knows how to make me happy

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            







    how to make: blackwitchmagicwoman:
auroraluciferi:

askmace:

scholarlyapproach:

DON’T LET THIS HAPPEN TO CEREAL!!!
Listen in the past the poor have had to improvise cheap food the rich never wanted as a means to survive. And over the many years of innovation made the food taste good until eventually the rich where like: “Oh hay you actually like that garbage? Why on earth would you like it?” Then they try it, love it, start buying it, and then drive the price up so much it becomes a luxury good.
They do this and its devastating, the food typically never becomes affordable again. It don’t matter how cheap the foo dis to produce, it doesn’t matter if there is almost no meat on the bone or its super difficult to eat and messy. Once the poor discover how to make some bit of cheap food taste good, the rich take it away via driving the price of it up.
THEY DID THIS TO RIBS.
Ribs were garage meat. Just look at them, there is hardly any meat on the bone, you have to eat them by hand usually, and they are messy. They where an undesirable cheap source of junk meat. But the poor being the poor made them taste good. (Because they don’t have much to choose from.) The rich discovered the meals the poor made with them and decided they liked ribs too. People discovered they could sell a few ribs to rich people and make way more money then selling lots of ribs to poor people and the price was driven up.
DON’T LET THIS HAPPEN TO CEREAL!!!

They did the same to brisket.  You used to be able to get brisket for less than a dollar a pound, which meant you could get a twenty pound brisket fairly cheaply.  And then you smoked it, sliced it, and had meat for weeks if not a full month.  And it was tasty.  I grew up eating brisket at least once a month because my family could afford it.
It was a cheap meat because no rich person looks at the dangly part of the neck of a cow and goes ‘ooh, that looks tasty!’.
But then Food Network started showcasing things like barbecued brisket.  Rich people started showing up at places that weren’t just Rib Crib to get their barbeque.  And the price of brisket went up.  A lot.
I regularly see it for over five dollars a pound in stores now.  And while yeah, that might not seem like a lot when you’re talking only a pound or two of meat, brisket is normally sold in ten to twenty pound sizes.  It’s become completely unaffordable to the people that made it delicious.
Sushi used to be really cheap, too, until it became ‘trendy’.  Guess why you’re now paying twelve dollars for your order of California rolls?  Because rich people discovered something that poor people had been eating for ages.
Noticed the prices of fajita meat, chicken thighs, or ham hocks has gone up recently?  You guessed it.  Rich people are taking our food and now we’re scrambling to afford the things that we grew up eating.

Lobster is a perfect example of this phenomenon. For hundreds of years, lobster was regarded as a sort of insect larvae from the depth of the sea. It had zero appeal as a “luxury food” until people living in NY and Boston developed a taste for it. Before the 19th century, it was considered a “poverty food” or used as fertilizer and bait - some household servants specified in employment agreements that they would not eat lobster more than twice a week.It was also commonly served at prisons, which tells you something about prison food.
Only by cleverly marketing lobster as an indulgence for the privileged made it cost so much. It became a vehicle for enormous profit spawning a multi-billion dollar global industry in the process. This mythical affection for lobster flesh - not its practical value in terms of taste, nutrition, or any other reasonable consideration - drives its value. 



LMAO. Wait. 

    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                how to make: blackwitchmagicwoman:
auroraluciferi:

askmace:

scholarlyapproach:

DON’T LET THIS HAPPEN TO CEREAL!!!
Listen in the past the poor have had to improvise cheap food the rich never wanted as a means to survive. And over the many years of innovation made the food taste good until eventually the rich where like: “Oh hay you actually like that garbage? Why on earth would you like it?” Then they try it, love it, start buying it, and then drive the price up so much it becomes a luxury good.
They do this and its devastating, the food typically never becomes affordable again. It don’t matter how cheap the foo dis to produce, it doesn’t matter if there is almost no meat on the bone or its super difficult to eat and messy. Once the poor discover how to make some bit of cheap food taste good, the rich take it away via driving the price of it up.
THEY DID THIS TO RIBS.
Ribs were garage meat. Just look at them, there is hardly any meat on the bone, you have to eat them by hand usually, and they are messy. They where an undesirable cheap source of junk meat. But the poor being the poor made them taste good. (Because they don’t have much to choose from.) The rich discovered the meals the poor made with them and decided they liked ribs too. People discovered they could sell a few ribs to rich people and make way more money then selling lots of ribs to poor people and the price was driven up.
DON’T LET THIS HAPPEN TO CEREAL!!!

They did the same to brisket.  You used to be able to get brisket for less than a dollar a pound, which meant you could get a twenty pound brisket fairly cheaply.  And then you smoked it, sliced it, and had meat for weeks if not a full month.  And it was tasty.  I grew up eating brisket at least once a month because my family could afford it.
It was a cheap meat because no rich person looks at the dangly part of the neck of a cow and goes ‘ooh, that looks tasty!’.
But then Food Network started showcasing things like barbecued brisket.  Rich people started showing up at places that weren’t just Rib Crib to get their barbeque.  And the price of brisket went up.  A lot.
I regularly see it for over five dollars a pound in stores now.  And while yeah, that might not seem like a lot when you’re talking only a pound or two of meat, brisket is normally sold in ten to twenty pound sizes.  It’s become completely unaffordable to the people that made it delicious.
Sushi used to be really cheap, too, until it became ‘trendy’.  Guess why you’re now paying twelve dollars for your order of California rolls?  Because rich people discovered something that poor people had been eating for ages.
Noticed the prices of fajita meat, chicken thighs, or ham hocks has gone up recently?  You guessed it.  Rich people are taking our food and now we’re scrambling to afford the things that we grew up eating.

Lobster is a perfect example of this phenomenon. For hundreds of years, lobster was regarded as a sort of insect larvae from the depth of the sea. It had zero appeal as a “luxury food” until people living in NY and Boston developed a taste for it. Before the 19th century, it was considered a “poverty food” or used as fertilizer and bait - some household servants specified in employment agreements that they would not eat lobster more than twice a week.It was also commonly served at prisons, which tells you something about prison food.
Only by cleverly marketing lobster as an indulgence for the privileged made it cost so much. It became a vehicle for enormous profit spawning a multi-billion dollar global industry in the process. This mythical affection for lobster flesh - not its practical value in terms of taste, nutrition, or any other reasonable consideration - drives its value. 



LMAO. Wait. 

                
            

            
            
blackwitchmagicwoman:
auroraluciferi:

askmace:

scholarlyapproach:

DON’T LET THIS HAPPEN TO CEREAL!!!
Listen in the past the poor have...

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            







    how to make: theguilteaparty
 So my mom told me a story...
 Growing up, my mom and her siblings would
 make banana bread every week.
 Literally every week since the first one of them
 learned how to make it, they started making
 banana bread- lo and behold though, they liked
 it with walnuts and they all knew their dad
 hated walnuts.
 So they made a special loaf of banana bread
 just for him every week, just for him to eat.
 Nobody else was allowed to eat it because that
 was his banana bread, baked especially for
 him.
 So anyways, they did this once a week from
 middle school up until every last one of them
 moved out of the house (and considering there
 was at least 10 years difference from the oldest
 to the youngest, this was quite some time). So
 that's like... 16 years of weekly banana bread.
 And he always finished it. He, without fail, ate
 the whole loaf of bread by himself.
 That's approximately 835 loaves of banana
 bread.
 Now
 Skip ahead a few years...
 and they're all visiting and baking banana bread
 and they start making a dad's bread and their
 mom comes in, "I don't think he can handle
 eating one more slice of banana bread!"
 "What are you talking about? He loves banana
 bread! He had it all the time!"
 This is when my grandma, their mom, broke the
 news that my grandfather loathed banana
 bread with every fiber of his being. He just
 adored that his kids loved him enough to make
 him a special loaf of banana bread every week
 (and he didn't have the heart to tell them that
 he couldn't stand banana bread) and he was
 incredibly, utterly upset that my grandma told
 the kids his big secret.
 My grandfather was a loving, patient, gentle
 man who absolutely hated banana bread but
 loved his kids so much more and I just wanted
 to share that with you guys. I think this story is
 just about the perfect example of the kind of
 person he was.
Dad and the Banana Bread
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                how to make: theguilteaparty
 So my mom told me a story...
 Growing up, my mom and her siblings would
 make banana bread every week.
 Literally every week since the first one of them
 learned how to make it, they started making
 banana bread- lo and behold though, they liked
 it with walnuts and they all knew their dad
 hated walnuts.
 So they made a special loaf of banana bread
 just for him every week, just for him to eat.
 Nobody else was allowed to eat it because that
 was his banana bread, baked especially for
 him.
 So anyways, they did this once a week from
 middle school up until every last one of them
 moved out of the house (and considering there
 was at least 10 years difference from the oldest
 to the youngest, this was quite some time). So
 that's like... 16 years of weekly banana bread.
 And he always finished it. He, without fail, ate
 the whole loaf of bread by himself.
 That's approximately 835 loaves of banana
 bread.
 Now
 Skip ahead a few years...
 and they're all visiting and baking banana bread
 and they start making a dad's bread and their
 mom comes in, "I don't think he can handle
 eating one more slice of banana bread!"
 "What are you talking about? He loves banana
 bread! He had it all the time!"
 This is when my grandma, their mom, broke the
 news that my grandfather loathed banana
 bread with every fiber of his being. He just
 adored that his kids loved him enough to make
 him a special loaf of banana bread every week
 (and he didn't have the heart to tell them that
 he couldn't stand banana bread) and he was
 incredibly, utterly upset that my grandma told
 the kids his big secret.
 My grandfather was a loving, patient, gentle
 man who absolutely hated banana bread but
 loved his kids so much more and I just wanted
 to share that with you guys. I think this story is
 just about the perfect example of the kind of
 person he was.
Dad and the Banana Bread
                
            

            
            
Dad and the Banana Bread

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            







    how to make: Cood Caerings
 Colaring
 in the
 lines:
 Colors
 make
 Sense:
 No white
 Spaces:
 CEZAN
 EI
 ashabl
 Markers
 C)
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




    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                how to make: Cood Caerings
 Colaring
 in the
 lines:
 Colors
 make
 Sense:
 No white
 Spaces:
 CEZAN
 EI
 ashabl
 Markers
 C)
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




                
            

            
            
lynati:
movemequotes:

Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” though...