a shocking number of old-school american outlaws were intensely community-minded, and their reputations at the time were often very positive among the people. a big part of the reason their legacies are so negative is because the government was able to control the narrative after they died, focusing on the fact that the things they did were illegal, rather than on what they actually did.
Everything about this is so fucking funny. The song. The chubby dances. The way he just gets fucking KIDNAPPED. The presentation of the guy in the white shirt in the picture when he returns. This is my favorite post.
“Batman has more than one son,“ I say into the mic.
The crowd boos. I begin to walk off in shame, when a voice speaks and commands silence from the room.
“She’s right,” I hear. I look around for the owner of the voice. There in the fifth row, he stands: Bruce Wayne himself.
“What does he know about Batman” the crowd replies and resumes booing. Bruce Wayne discreetly leaves the room. In an unrelated turn of events, a voice speaks from above. “She’s right,” I hear. There crashing through the skylight: Batman.
Not to turn mental illness into relatable content but is there anything more hilarious then spending an entire day vamping up to do something like spending ALL day thinking about it and putting it off and dreading it and then you finally, FINALLY do it and it takes 6 seconds and you realize that was your whole day plan
