(via bruiseslikeblueroses)
Katie Jacobson (via bruiseslikeblueroses)
I just made/ate Vietnamese tacos, and they are maybe my new favorite food. Inspired by the Mandoline Grill truck when Elizabeth, Andrea, and I went to the derby a few weeks ago, and we had ourselves a food truck dinner. They both got Banh Mi, but I didn’t want all that bread. Although, I think the filling was the same stuff, so I suppose I could make those too.
Ingredients:
***
As if I need more distraction at this point in my life, I’m going to give tumblr another go. I don’t really get it, though. I’ve been on LiveJournal since 2002 so I have kind of a community there of people I “know,” but this whole tumbly bumbly is mystifying. Open question: what do you do to make tumblr not suck?
I suppose it’s insomnia that’s brought me here. The sad thing is I’m not even considering this insomnia yet; it’s only 12:41. That’s early. Andrea’s asleep, though, the TV is boring, it’s not reading time yet, the entire rest of the internet has been exhausted, and the idea of doing anything actually productive is simply laughable. So, tumblr.
I’ll be honest, I’m writing here because I think my layout is pretty.
No, but I think there was something I was going to, like, say.
…
Nope, don’t remember what it was. Here’s hoping it will be below 90º tomorrow.
but, hey. my girlfriend found this contest by a company called Pink Cloud, which is giving away a $50,000 wedding to the gay couple with the most appealing youtube video.
As my ladylove and I are engaged and lacking in funding…this does appeal. So we made this little youtube video. The link is
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=niLFht744a0
HEEY Y’ALL, if anyone reads this, VOTE FOR US! yayyyyyyy
Clubs are despicable. Cramped, overpriced furnaces with sticky walls and the latest idiot theme tunes thumping through the humid air so loud you can’t hold a conversation, just bellow inanities at megaphone-level. And since the smoking ban, the masking aroma of cigarette smoke has been replaced by the overbearing stench of crotch sweat and hair wax.
Clubs are such insufferable dungeons of misery, the inmates have to take mood-altering substances to make their ordeal seem halfway tolerable. This leads them to believe they “enjoy” clubbing. They don’t. No one does. They just enjoy drugs.
Drugs render location meaningless. Neck enough ketamine and you could have the best night of your life squatting in a shed rolling corks across the floor. And no one’s going to search you on the way in. Why bother with clubs?
“Because you might get a shag,” is the usual response. Really? If that’s the only way you can find a partner - preening and jigging about like a desperate animal - you shouldn’t be attempting to breed in the first place. What’s your next trick? Inventing fire? People like you are going to spin civilisation into reverse. You’re a moron, and so is that haircut you’re trying to impress. Any offspring you eventually blast out should be drowned in a pan before they can do any harm. Or open any more nightclubs.
Even if you somehow avoid reproducing, isn’t it a lot of hard work for very little reward? Seven hours hopping about in a hellish, reverberating bunker in exchange for sharing 64 febrile, panting pelvic thrusts with someone who’ll snore and dribble into your pillow till 11 o’clock in the morning, before waking up beside you with their hair in a mess, blinking like a dizzy cat and smelling vaguely like a ham baguette? Really, why bother? Why not just stay at home punching yourself in the face? Invite a few friends round and make a night of it. It’ll be more fun than a club.
"I don’t know who originally wrote it, but it was posted by la0wai on livejoural, in the commuity askmeanything.
[[ETA: Source. Thx google.]]
30-Day Music Challenge, Day 17: A song that you hear often on the radio.
Okay, so I have no idea if this is still on the radio, as I never listen to the radio, but out of the songs I like it’s the one that was on the radio most recently. I said radio a lot in that sentence. Radio.
Ladies and gentlemen, “Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga. I know, I know.
wowed. my mind is blown. he should be working with and for the city. call him autistic if that’s his diagnosis but this guy’s more importantly SO...
fucking love this
Women get angry, too. And some women have access to Photoshop and Botticelli.
eff. yes.
This is necessary. I wish women weren’t taught to be suspicious of one another....
What is this? I don’t even………..
Bikini Kill - Bloody Ice Cream
The Sylvia Plath story is told to girls who write
They want us to think that to be a girl...
(via humanequalsgarbage)
their explanation being “they both take place on an island, right? and everyones always angry and...