ckck:
Battersea Bridge, London, circa 1940s.
Photograph by Bill Brandt.
sade:
Shit Tina Fey’s Five Year Old Daughter Says
dyin for ya, alice
(Source: annie-halls, via 100yearsoflolitude)
I keep being so impressed by all the domestic little touches my roommate has added, like having the mop bucket under the sink hold all the gross but useful dish towels and rags. I told my aunt about the wall rack for the pot lids, then saw over her shoulder that she had one as well. “Well, you’ve never been very domestic,” she shrugged.
It’s Hot and There Are Too Many Bugs: Is It Global Warming or Just Summer, Stupid?
Rite Aid Line Was Thirty People Long, Sources Blame “Too Few Checkers”
Ant Bites All Over Person’s Body
Los Angeles Very Dry, Some Say Awfully Dry
Dog Complains by Door But Doesn’t Want to Go Out
Salted Caramel…
Summer: Stupid
I’m leaving this here because (1) hilarious; (2) my publisher is less likely to mess with the working title of the book if La Marth keeps this up (PLEASE KEEP IT UP, MARTH!); and (3) I’ll want you to have a reference point for why “foolishness about vomit” is my new favorite catchphrase.
Don’t you hate it when you are ordering some delicious tortellini from the cafeteria at work, and the woman next to you looks at your food out of the corner of her eye, and when the cafeteria worker asks her if she wants some pasta too and she looks at your plate and says, “O no, it’s so HEAVY” and then you look down at your arms and you realize they are not regular human arms but giant wrinkly elephant arms, because you are a giant elephant girl, eating your tortellini and weighting an average of two tons and barely fitting into your cubicle where you type your Excel spreadsheets as you eat your immensely dense lunch and as you are about to slink away to pay for your elephant lady meal (or slink as well as you can slink when you are the largest existing land mammal) the woman follows up her comment by saying, “I’m trying to eat HEALTHY” and you look down again and realize that not only are you an elephant person, but you are also DEATHLY ILL, your veins and organs so filled with creamy tortellini that your bodily functions are grinding to a halt, your massive trunk like a lead weight, your large placid eyes clouding over with a delicious cheese sauce, and you know you must find the ancient elephant graveyard of your ancestors before it is too late, in order to return your weary fat-coated skeleton to the earth, but you have only the vaguest instinctual remembrance of its location, and when you try to Google it on your phone your huge flat pie pan foot accidentally smashes the screen, and it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because your brain is so packed with spring vegetables smothered in Parmesan that the only word you can think now is “tortellini, tortellini, tortellini” and then you die right there in the cafeteria in front of the hot foods section? That is the worst.
(via 100yearsoflolitude)
