wow, shit just went down with my family

 102
02 Jun 12 at 9 pm

fuckyeahmolecularbiology:

Crystallised aspirin.

Image Source: Wellcome Image Awards.

fuckyeahmolecularbiology:

Crystallised aspirin.
Image Source: Wellcome Image Awards.

I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again. After I shave, my legs feel damn excellent. 

 878
01 Jun 12 at 12 am

myedol:

Living Portrait by Mosstika

(via motorcycle-drive-by)

 1
31 May 12 at 1 am
tags: ugh 

Now that I want to be interesting, I can’t be.

“Rattlesnake Kills Pentecostal Pastor”

 20
30 May 12 at 6 pm

cobaingable:

Blinded When I See You, Third Eye Blind

(via talkbackattheocean)

cobaingable:

Blinded When I See You, Third Eye Blind
 1
28 May 12 at 11 pm

rightnow-forever:

 

Last night the roommates and I temporarily put aside our feuds (cheap garbage bags, noise, dishes) and neuroses (girls, girls, boys) to watch “The Graduate.” I had not seen it since I was 12, the same year I read “Lolita,” coincidentally, which combined probably explains a lot about how I’ve turned out. I was struck this time by how scary Anne Bancroft looks, not just in the rain scene when she is supposed to look terrifying, but all around: in bed and out, lying smoking on the couch when Ben comes to take Elaine out, even standing poolside behind her sunglasses — all angular and taught, ribs straining through her skin beneath her too-shiny lingerie and shoulders hunched like she’s much older, or much younger, than she actually is. The most lively thing about her is her hair — and how is JSTOR not full of articles dissecting those raccoon stripes that arch above her forehead? — which falls carefully, architecturally even, over her face when she turns on her side in the hotel room to light up. You know how sometimes you catch a glimpse of someone else and in them you see precisely yourself at an earlier time? I don’t mean the girl I babysat for on Valentine’s Day the year I was 14, during my very briefly lived babysitting career, who also read books too advanced for her and was totally insufferable. I mean when I saw Anne Bancroft’s hair flip, I saw myself in this bed a thousand miles away from here (desk, Brooklyn, mug of Gordon’s), with my hair over my face when I reached for my glasses on a late February morning. I had on the navy blue sweater with the gold anchor on the chest, which I never wear and which, again, in retrospect seems like it may have been a sign, and sometimes in these images you like what you see, but I think that almost always you do not.

rightnow-forever:

 
Last night the roommates and I temporarily put aside our feuds (cheap garbage bags, noise, dishes) and neuroses (girls, girls, boys) to watch “The Graduate.” I had not seen it since I was 12, the same year I read “Lolita,” coincidentally, which combined probably explains a lot about how I’ve turned out. I was struck this time by how scary Anne Bancroft looks, not just in the rain scene when she is supposed to look terrifying, but all around: in bed and out, lying smoking on the couch when Ben comes to take Elaine out, even standing poolside behind her sunglasses — all angular and taught, ribs straining through her skin beneath her too-shiny lingerie and shoulders hunched like she’s much older, or much younger, than she actually is. The most lively thing about her is her hair — and how is JSTOR not full of articles dissecting those raccoon stripes that arch above her forehead? — which falls carefully, architecturally even, over her face when she turns on her side in the hotel room to light up. You know how sometimes you catch a glimpse of someone else and in them you see precisely yourself at an earlier time? I don’t mean the girl I babysat for on Valentine’s Day the year I was 14, during my very briefly lived babysitting career, who also read books too advanced for her and was totally insufferable. I mean when I saw Anne Bancroft’s hair flip, I saw myself in this bed a thousand miles away from here (desk, Brooklyn, mug of Gordon’s), with my hair over my face when I reached for my glasses on a late February morning. I had on the navy blue sweater with the gold anchor on the chest, which I never wear and which, again, in retrospect seems like it may have been a sign, and sometimes in these images you like what you see, but I think that almost always you do not.
 126
28 May 12 at 8 pm

hiphopfightsback:

Beastie Boys

hiphopfightsback:

Beastie Boys

28 May 12 at 3 pm
tags: what  is  my  life 

classical music is blaring, and my brother and father are arguing over it about politics downstairs.

 2
25 May 12 at 7 am

GPOY—I can already tell.

(Source: leahhkaye)

GPOY—I can already tell.

My life just got real sad. I just spent an hour watching Bob Ross videos on youtube and crying because I miss his show. THEN HE SHOWED UP ON MY DASH AND I REBLOGGED THAT SHIT. 

CRYING. TEARS. STREAMING. UNNECESSARY. YET NECESSARY.