décembre 2011
114 billets
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It's your turn beloved, it is your flesh that I...
Omg leonard cohen you are like the LAST thing I need playing on repeat in my brain right now.
I’m beginning to wish I had accepted the offer of opiate/morphinomimetics they gave me at hospital. It is just I really dislike morphine, and I thought I could do this with some heavy duty NSAIDs. Except…maybe not. Hm.
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“What is the water in a lake? A blank page. The ripples are its wrinkles. And...”
– Edmond Jabès, The Book of Questions II, trans. Rosmarie Waldrop (via proustitute)
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creosotecereus a demandé : 'sup with the fruit panties? You hatin on me?
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A Golden Coral Commercial Just Told Me
emiri-sensei:
happiasaclam:
I can dip whatever I want in their Chocolate Waterfall. Really? Whatever I want?
Oh, the times I wish I had a dick.
Dude, that commercial is straight up pornographic. All I can think of is the bacteria and dicks that must have been dipped in the Golden Coral chocolate fountain.
omg emi you have made everything funnier today.
Fuck Yeah Brutalism: “The success of Brutalist... →
fuckyeahbrutalism:
“The success of Brutalist architecture is, to a large extent, a product of its failures - its inability to reduce everything to simple abstract material volumes. [It is] highly dependent on a certain level and a certain kind of detail - the isolated, discrete, singular element growing out of the…
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Take that!
Fuck you, appendix. I take shit from no one!
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Sharing Poetry: Mark Strand, "Lines for Winter" →
Tell yourself as it gets cold and gray falls from the air that you will go on walking, hearing the same tune no matter where you find yourself— inside the dome of dark or under the cracking white of the moon’s gaze in a valley of snow. Tonight as it gets cold tell yourself what you know which is nothing but the tune your bones play as you keep going. And you will be able for once to lie down under...
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fuckyeahridiculousanimelines:
Screencap by happyfamilyplanning.
It’s not true! My secret talent is I enrage large water birds.
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“I have had—to be frank—a bad and worried and depressed and inconvenient winter…”
– Henry James, from a letter to Edith Wharton, 19 April 1909 (via proustitute
)
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Today I went for my first run in KBH
And there were so many ridiculously put-together women running in the opposite direction of me around the lake, it smelled like car exhaust, and I got threatened by an angry gander (he was blocking the road because a bunch of seagulls were apparently trying to rile him up.) TRUE STORIES.
Geese don’t like short round women in jogging condoms, OK? I’m getting a month to month gym...
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