And this! My god, this is recent. He’s absolutely gorgeous yet, but I couldn’t possibly be attracted to him. If I saw a woman who looked like this, however, I’d want to nom her from head to toe.
(Source: rivill)
Oh, the beloved amusement of the passing of time. Fifteen years ago, this was my ideal. Skinny. Hairless. Japanese. Gothy, glam-rocky, punky sexiness.
Now, if this approached me in a bar, I would acknowledge, yet, the prettiness of such a man, but would also have a hard time not laughing in his face. Unfortunately, bullshit “Pick Up Artists” like Mystery have turned what Sugizo had going on in the late 90s and early oughts into a carnival of disgust.
No, now, I want ‘em thick, hairy, white (okay, sometimes Mexican) and decidedly masculine as fuck.
Sugizo 2000
Skin Diamond is so beautiful she makes me feel a little retarded inside.
Crazy cat lady….. =^o,o^=
My old place was pretty ghetto, and the stray cats in the alley got curious while we were shooting this… The bottom image is actually more of a “behind-the-scenes” shot….
Photography: Maxime Avet
Latex: Joy Williams
Siiiiiighs all around. Beautiful space.
Want. But in the woods of Tennessee instead. My god in heaven, that looks like heaven. Click the photo and see the rest of the place.
Cabin in Tenmile, Oregon. Built in the early 1970s with remnants of a home built in the late 1800s.
Submitted and photographed by Kasey McMahon.
Dilapidated. Old. It’s my thing. It’s why New Orleans is so intensely appealing. So many things have this totally chill, “Wut. We’re just settling in.” vibe that’s actually evidence of things literally falling apart, but no one really seems to process that.
(Source: padaw4n, via spookyhome)
I’ve been having some awesome dreams the last two nights. This morning, I kept hitting snooze on my phone even though I really didn’t need any more sleep, because even within five minutes, I’d go back to sleep and have some incredible psychedelic romp through my brain pan. Pity I don’t recall any of this morning’s fun.
The night before last, I dreamed of a mouse-squirrel-chipmunk rodent that was adorable and harried. He was in an absolute panic, skittering over the meniscus of a swimming pool covered in fall-yellowed fern leaves. The temperature was approximately 40 degrees, but the water was warm, and I stood in it, up to my waist, following the mouse-squirrel-chipmunk about, with a small smile on my face.
You see, the tiny beast was about to get married. And I was his best man. But he couldn’t read his vows because they were locked inside an acorn, and he was too nervous to crack it open. I got it open for him, and, as luck would have it, the vows were written in Swedish. Neither of us read Swedish. But somehow, we were able to translate the words with another acorn that had a codex on it for us.
There was also a complication, because I was in love with this animal. This is not the first time I’ve been romantically entangled with a small animal I feel affection for, in my dreams. There was a dream roughly a year ago wherein I was enmeshed in a relationship with Henry, my mildly retarded cat with one bum eye who oft looks at me with his tongue sticking out. He had been magickally turned human in my dream, and as we laid nude on the shag carpet of a wood-paneled basement room in front of a tv one would have to get up and change the dial on, he motioned to his still-furry, neutered kitten crotch and said, “I’m sorry this won’t be of much use to you.”
I do have penchant for falling when the situation is impossible.
I’m a dog person (as long as they’re large and shaggy, or chihuahuas). And I really love cats. Bison and elephants are my favourite animals. But nothing makes me go giddy quite like a squirrel. Okay, except for golden retrievers.
Make sense of all of that, I challenge thee.
squirreelellsllslslslsssz
