February 2012
33 posts
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nedhepburn:
My girlfriend from high school got married yesterday. Knowing what I knew about her in high school, I can only assume that the first dance at the wedding was The Deftones “House Of Flies”.
that girl knows what I’m talking about. that girl definitely knows what I’m talking about.
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conflicted. how do i tell a friend that her film project (a feature length based on the past year or so of her life) is extremely narcissistic, and unbearably melodramatic? if there was one more shot of two people silently holding hands exchanging meaningful looks or a voiceover in a shot of a girl walking through a field alone i was going to vomit. AND THIS WAS JUST THE TEASER TRAILER. i dont...
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“He [Rick Santorum] is a staunch opponent of abortion, even in the case of rape....”
– John Oliver on Rick Santorum, The Bugle 183 (via sixpencesoulcake)
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Things I Am On The Fence About
jersh:
Korean BBQ. According to our waitress, because I am white I wouldn’t like some spicy noodle dish I originally ordered. Apparently only Asians could handle this specific type of noodle.
Sea Turtles, sure.
17th century French decorative arts.
Whitney Houston’s hearse.
oddly formal dude on the dance floor: *extends hand* hi, im (i dont remember his name)
me: *shakes hand* hi
OFDOTDF: so… you wanna dance?
me: ….im already dancing
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i told myself last night at the bar i was going to the gym the next morning.
i am now doing the opposite of gym: watching practical magic and eating breakfast sandwiches.
something i love about being home: 8pm and the low pop of a cork leaving a bottle means terrible comedies with mom on the couch and a few glasses of blush (with plenty of ice).
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“Two of you stand before me, but I only have one photo in my hands, and this...”
– Sylvia Plath (via arwen123)
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if there is a hell
everywhere you go you are always stuck behind a slow-walker
your marriage will be written by joss whedon
all your cigarettes are perpetually just broken enough that you have to hold them awkwardly so the smoke doesnt escape
the brita is never full
there is a sparkle somewhere on your eyelash that you cant ever seem to find and its fucking with your vision
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realizing that you are following the person whose yard you intend to cut through is awkward. how do i convey that im not trying to talk to/mug them without being like “HEY SORRY JUST PASSIN THROUGH YER GARDEN HERE”..?
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today, i was totally the kid that reminds the professor that we had homework.
she said we had a 2 paragraph proposal due on tuesday, but the assignment sheet said two pages. so i ask, paragraphs or pages? “OH yes, I messed up. Two pages. Thank you, Kat, for catching me.”
and then i get the glares of >30 art history majors. i actually said “….I’m really...
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a coworker and i gave ourselves diy chemical burns with some salt and ice cubes. i blame my participation on stubbornness and a refusal to miss an opportunity to show that little faux hawk rockin’ prick how to be a real man.
*flex*
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