oldprickbitches:

Omfg I was sitting in a room with a bunch of my aunts, uncles and cousins and my grandma had this weird smile on her face so I asked her what was up and she just looked at me and said “everyone in this house is alive thanks to my vagina”

(via mattkarenalex)

photos

Just because you shot Jesse James, don’t make you Jesse James.

(via lorath)

photo

danhacker:

Child Cries After Expecting to Meet Iron Man, Getting RDJ Instead
Little Jaxson Denno was fully expecting to hang out with The Invincible Iron Man when his mom told him Tony Stark was shooting a movie in his neck of the woods. Needless to say, the 18-month-old Western Massachusetts native was none-too-pleased when he ended up meeting Robert Downey, Jr. instead. via: Gawker
The look on RDJ’s face is priceless. 

danhacker:

Child Cries After Expecting to Meet Iron Man, Getting RDJ Instead

Little Jaxson Denno was fully expecting to hang out with The Invincible Iron Man when his mom told him Tony Stark was shooting a movie in his neck of the woods. Needless to say, the 18-month-old Western Massachusetts native was none-too-pleased when he ended up meeting Robert Downey, Jr. instead. via: Gawker

The look on RDJ’s face is priceless. 

(via sherleck)

photos

ossimorotossico:

Nelle città senza mare, chissà a cosa si rivolge la gente per ritrovare il proprio equilibrio.

- Banana Yoshimoto

(via hafssol)

photos

i’m the broken boy soldier and i’ll never get older

(Source: hyunsoos, via bluevein)

photos

photo

photos

photos

(via nixoooon)

photo

(Source: rimbaudelaire)

photo

photos

Hand Painting Art by Guido Daniele

(via nixoooon)

photo

undr:

Bern, 1948. by Paul Senn
Thanks to adanvc

undr:

Bern, 1948. by Paul Senn

Thanks to adanvc

(via softshinythings)

photos

nikolawashere:

By William James Vincent Broadhurst

(via oscarstardis)

quote

"I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet."