Misha was instructed to pose with all his presents. He put them in his pants, of course.
STURGEON FACE!
Reblogged from the-sock-monkeysMisha at the Victors’ Spaghetti Dinner ordering his entrée and cocktail but he is not allowed to speak, point to the menu or anyone else’s entrée. He must “charade” his order to the waiter.
Reblogged from the-sock-monkeysThis random guy showed up while we were eating dinner last night. Does anyone have any idea who he is?
Reblogged from brokeback-purgatory
Because that’s where my heart belongs too.
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Reblogged from thestupidsatan
…for lots of money is not our vice.
GISHWHES was for charity.
We don’t need treasure,
just spaghetti.
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Reblogged from englandsdreamingSO. UM. I fixed up princess-meesh’s photo and got rid of the crease, because I just had to. I’ll just… leave this here.
Reblogged from vivid-anxiety
Across the globe, hundreds (possibly thousands) of GISHWHES Schwag packages have been placed in the hands of underpaid, overworked postal employees wearing ill-fitting uniforms. And in one package contains a Golden Ticket to Rome and dinner with Misha Collins. What are the odds that the winner never receives their Schwag? Postal workers are still human. Mostly.
But for the rest of the GISHWHES nation, the Author included, we are not likely to be on the receiving end of that Ticket and so we have been reduced to waiting once again. GISHWHES 2012 is on the horizon and, if Misha’s current modeling career is any indication, it is destined to be bigger, better, and raunchier than 2011.
But just because the competition has official ended doesn’t mean the fun has to stop too. Feeling bored? Put on your sock monkey hat and do the salsa in a crowded mall. The world is your canvas and why paint the Mona Lisa when you can cover yourself in paint and roll around. Screw perfection when there’s fun to be had.
Congratulations to the winners. And remember:
All the coolest people are freaks. And all the coolest freaks are GISHWHESHEANS.
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Congrats to Sarah and Ruth and the Author hopes you enjoy your time in Rome.
The Author is currently trying to find money to make a purchase at the GISHWHES Schwag Shwop. She may have to rob a bank at this point.
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Let me tell you something about GISHWHES. We were best friends at the beginning. I know right? It’s so embarrassing. I don’t even… Whatever. So then after a couple days, I started trying to have a life, and GISHWHES was like, weirdly jealous of that. Like, if I would blow GISHWHES off to hang out with my friends, GISHWHES would be like, “Why aren’t you working on me?” and I’d be like, “Why am I so obsessed with you?!” So then, after a week and a half I was like, “GISHWHES we can’t be friends anymore because I think you’re making me crazy.” I mean I couldn’t go crazy, I still had a life to live. I mean, right? It was driving me INSANE. So then Misha posted on his site about how a bunch of people broke the rules and it was so retarded. And then GISHWHES ended because no one would do any of the items anymore, and when it updated its Updates page, none of it had to do with the winners and it was totally lame, and now I guess it’s asking for quotes.
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Reblogged from literary-mess
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Reblogged from worldofdistractions
The Author hopes everyone enjoyed themselves, because She surely did.
The Author clearly expects Her team to win by a wide margin but if Misha and Jean are put off by Our awesomeness, The Author would like to give a half-hearted congratulations to the winning team along with the winner of the GISH-Lottery.
The Author hopes to see you all, and many more, next year for round two.
Happy Hunting!
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3 Hours, guys…
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Reblogged from generallydecent
