Video 22 Jul 219,506 notes

anthramen:

I have felt first-hand the very wrath of the Turkish ice-cream man.

(Source: sizvideos)

Text 22 Jul 8,943 notes

modestdemidov:

modestdemidov:

i’ve just been informed there’s a metal band with a parrot for the lead singer

their name is hatebeak

image

ya think i’m foolin

image

image

Video 22 Jul 15,209 notes

lackofa:

BORD PEOPLE.

Yeah trying a more shapely, stylistic.. look. These are pretty rough but I rather like ‘em!

(Source: lackofa.deviantart.com)

Photo 21 Jul 59 notes buggirl:

The caterpillars of the jungle were incredibly looking beasts.
Maquipucuna, Ecuador

buggirl:

The caterpillars of the jungle were incredibly looking beasts.

Maquipucuna, Ecuador

Video 21 Jul 312 notes

fashionsfromhistory:

Evening Cape

Lucien Lelong

c.1914

Vintage Textile

Photo 21 Jul 1,276 notes scifigrl47:

copperbadge:

copperbadge:

Look who followed me into the cemetery this morning.

"Can I tell the cat story? Can I please?"
"Yes, Sam, you can tell the cat story."
So this morning I was on my way to Copp’s Hill Burying Ground, one of the most historic old cemeteries in Boston, when I met a cat. I was hiking my ass up Hull Street and I noticed a black cat was pacing me across the street. Eventually he followed me up and into the cemetery, where I took the above photo. 
We hung out for a while. I named him Buster. I figured if he turned out to be a she we could call her Busta. He had a little collar covered in skulls with a bell on it, so he clearly is beloved by someone. 
When scifigrl47 and Kate arrived to meet me, I mentioned the cat to them, and a few minutes later he wandered up to us. We made much of him, and Kate tapped one of the grave markers, a big flat one, and asked if he’d jump up onto it so she could photograph him. And he did, we have photos as proof. 
After his little photo shoot, we said goodbye to Buster and walked down the hill to explore more of the cemetery. The former exit at the bottom of the hill is no longer there, so we were coming back up when we noticed two very stylish older women walking two small dogs in the cemetery.
Now:
a) there are two large, very clear signs at the entrance saying NO DOGS. 
b) Who the hell thinks it’s appropriate to walk their dogs in a historic cemetery? Like, ever?
So I’m remarking on the gaucheness of what they’re doing, and we’re about to sort of avoid them, when we realize Buster is still around. And one of the dogs, fortunately on a leash, is freaking the fuck out at him. 
Sci, with more presence of mind than I had, starts off up the hill to make sure the cat is okay, and we’re following her along when we see the one woman bend down and scoop the dog into her arms. I wasn’t sure why she was doing this until I saw Buster hit a four-foot vertical leap and go BANANAS on the woman. 
Not the dog. The woman holding him. 
Buster disapproves of dogs in the cemetery too, and he knows who to blame. 
And we actually cannot believe what we just saw, this perfectly nice cat going after her like that, when the other woman scoops up HER dog and they start bombing for the gate out of the cemetery. They were going pretty much full out and when they hit the gate we realized it was because BUSTER THE TEN POUND CAT was literally chasing them out of the graveyard. And then down the street.
We hit the exit ourselves torn between laughter and utter amazement at this fucking hardcore cat policing his cemetery. There was a woman standing on the sidewalk in her pajamas, probably Buster’s owner, as well as a guy on a scaffold doing tuckpointing who clearly saw the whole thing and was just busting his guts laughing. 
We spent all day talking about that cat. Kate’s convinced he’s not actually a cat, he’s either a shapeshifter or the spirit of a departed revolutionary war hero. I suspect he’s some kind of supernatural entity. 
Buster the cat might just be my spirit animal. 

As God is my witness, I have never seen a cat go for someone like that.  
Now, I would also like to point out that we stopped and addressed said cat politely.  I crouched down, offered a hand, the little guy sat down next to me and let me pet him for a few minutes.  No aggression, no hissing, no skittishness.  Jumped right up when Kate patted the grave and asked him if he wouldn’t please come up so we could get a picture.
But those women took off RUNNING.

scifigrl47:

copperbadge:

copperbadge:

Look who followed me into the cemetery this morning.

"Can I tell the cat story? Can I please?"

"Yes, Sam, you can tell the cat story."

So this morning I was on my way to Copp’s Hill Burying Ground, one of the most historic old cemeteries in Boston, when I met a cat. I was hiking my ass up Hull Street and I noticed a black cat was pacing me across the street. Eventually he followed me up and into the cemetery, where I took the above photo. 

We hung out for a while. I named him Buster. I figured if he turned out to be a she we could call her Busta. He had a little collar covered in skulls with a bell on it, so he clearly is beloved by someone. 

When scifigrl47 and Kate arrived to meet me, I mentioned the cat to them, and a few minutes later he wandered up to us. We made much of him, and Kate tapped one of the grave markers, a big flat one, and asked if he’d jump up onto it so she could photograph him. And he did, we have photos as proof. 

After his little photo shoot, we said goodbye to Buster and walked down the hill to explore more of the cemetery. The former exit at the bottom of the hill is no longer there, so we were coming back up when we noticed two very stylish older women walking two small dogs in the cemetery.

Now:

a) there are two large, very clear signs at the entrance saying NO DOGS. 

b) Who the hell thinks it’s appropriate to walk their dogs in a historic cemetery? Like, ever?

So I’m remarking on the gaucheness of what they’re doing, and we’re about to sort of avoid them, when we realize Buster is still around. And one of the dogs, fortunately on a leash, is freaking the fuck out at him. 

Sci, with more presence of mind than I had, starts off up the hill to make sure the cat is okay, and we’re following her along when we see the one woman bend down and scoop the dog into her arms. I wasn’t sure why she was doing this until I saw Buster hit a four-foot vertical leap and go BANANAS on the woman.

Not the dog. The woman holding him. 

Buster disapproves of dogs in the cemetery too, and he knows who to blame. 

And we actually cannot believe what we just saw, this perfectly nice cat going after her like that, when the other woman scoops up HER dog and they start bombing for the gate out of the cemetery. They were going pretty much full out and when they hit the gate we realized it was because BUSTER THE TEN POUND CAT was literally chasing them out of the graveyard. And then down the street.

We hit the exit ourselves torn between laughter and utter amazement at this fucking hardcore cat policing his cemetery. There was a woman standing on the sidewalk in her pajamas, probably Buster’s owner, as well as a guy on a scaffold doing tuckpointing who clearly saw the whole thing and was just busting his guts laughing. 

We spent all day talking about that cat. Kate’s convinced he’s not actually a cat, he’s either a shapeshifter or the spirit of a departed revolutionary war hero. I suspect he’s some kind of supernatural entity. 

Buster the cat might just be my spirit animal. 

As God is my witness, I have never seen a cat go for someone like that.  

Now, I would also like to point out that we stopped and addressed said cat politely.  I crouched down, offered a hand, the little guy sat down next to me and let me pet him for a few minutes.  No aggression, no hissing, no skittishness.  Jumped right up when Kate patted the grave and asked him if he wouldn’t please come up so we could get a picture.

But those women took off RUNNING.

Text 21 Jul 133,039 notes

Anonymous said: You should draw a puma wearing puma shoes.

iguanamouth:

image

image

image

image

image

Video 21 Jul 8,665 notes

sbosma:

CRITICAL EDUCATION

New one for SooJin Buzelli at Planadviser magazine, based on the concept of “The importance of the right training/knowledge is power.” A pretty tricky phrase to illustrate, particularly since I needed to encapsulate both of those slightly different ideas. I like all the other sketches, but this is the only one that clicks with the concept. A nice thing with SooJin’s assignments is that I often get neat sketches that I can reuse later on for personal stuff.

Bottom is the color study, which, in some ways I prefer, but it made me too sleepy. Flashbacks of falling asleep in overly warm classrooms.

Video 21 Jul 1,326 notes

archiemcphee:

Something awesome, surreal and possibly even a little bit magical is happening on a quiet street in the Toxteth district of Liverpool, England. Every night, when the clock strikes 10:00pm, the sliding storefront shutter on a derelict building opens to reveal a radiant blue tank of water filled with live, luminous jellyfish silently swimming around the space.

This dreamlike scene is a site-specific art installation created by artistic duo Walter Hugo & Zoniel for the Liverpool Biennial. Entitled The Physical Possibility of Inspiring Imagination in the Mind of Someone Living, the piece was not promoted in advance in any way. Instead it simply started happening and will continue making its punctual 10pm appearance until July 27, 2014.

If you can’t make it to Liverpool before the end of the month, you can click here to watch some video footage of the installation, which was shared by Neal Bryant.

[via designboom]

Video 21 Jul 55,481 notes

rosyln:

Life in Gaza

Quote 21 Jul 22,051 notes
Here’s to the security guards who maybe had a degree in another land. Here’s to the manicurist who had to leave her family to come here, painting the nails, scrubbing the feet of strangers. Here’s to the janitors who don’t even fucking understand English yet work hard despite it all. Here’s to the fast food workers who work hard to see their family smile. Here’s to the laundry man at the Marriott who told me with the sparkle in his eyes how he was an engineer in Peru. Here’s to the bus driver, the Turkish Sufi who almost danced when I quoted Rumi. Here’s to the harvesters who live in fear of being deported for coming here to open the road for their future generation. Here’s to the taxi drivers from Nigeria, Ghana, Egypt and India who gossip amongst themselves. Here is to them waking up at 4am, calling home to hear the voices of their loved ones. Here is to their children, to the children who despite it all become artists, writers, teachers, doctors, lawyers, activists and rebels. Here’s to Western Union and Money Gram. For never forgetting home. Here’s to their children who carry the heartbeats of their motherland and even in sleep, speak with pride about their fathers. Keep on.
— 

Immigrants. First generation.


Ijeoma Umebinyuo.

(via theijeoma)

Text 21 Jul 130,897 notes

airouette:

sephizim:

gromdork:

hanksypanky:

100newfears:

and then romeo-kun and juliet-chan inevitably committed the seppuku

sugoi. what light through the window comes, desu?
it is the east, and my waifu is the sun. 

did my kokoro doki till now? forswear it, sight!
for i ne’er saw true kawaii till this night.

o romeo-kun, romeo-kun, doushite art thou, romeo-kun?
deny thy otou-san and refuse thy namae,
or, if thou ja nai, but be sworn my daisuki,
and i’ll no longer be a capulet-sama.

IM SCREAMING

via Checkmate.
Video 21 Jul 3,659 notes

salvicorn:

a bit glitchy.

Video 20 Jul 8,404 notes

she-kicks-she-throws:

devildyke:

tamorapierce:

xkyaliix:

she-kicks-she-throws:

Photos from 1935 Japan via Old Photos of Japan.

Japanese school girls practicing naginata (薙刀). Naginata is a pole weapon traditionally used by members of the samurai class. It consists of a wooden shaft with a curved blade on the end. In the modern martial art form of naginata, it is carved from one piece of Japanese white oak or it features a replaceable blade constructed from bamboo. Practitioners wear protective armor called bogu (防具). It is very similar to the armor worn by practitioners of kendo. In modern Japan, naginatajutsu is practiced especially by women.

I’m gonna go out on a limb here and tag tamorapierce here because this is just too cool for words. 

And that limb held, `cos here I am, with thanks!

Look at them, at the easy grace with which they wait, at their focus on the weapon and beyond it, the opponent.

Thank you! I sit here in delighted fascination. :3

Text 20 Jul 573,351 notes

thnksgiving:

do you ever use a particular pen or pencil in school a lot and you start getting emotionally attached to it and then you lose it and it’s just another reason to be sad during school


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