(via Schabarum Regional Park, Rowland Heights)
hello vonnie
we're not kids anymore.

blake kathryn
will byers stan first human second

gracie abrams
trying on a metaphor
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Noah Kahan

★

@theartofmadeline

titsay
KIROKAZE

roma★
cherry valley forever

shark vs the universe
almost home
Today's Document

JVL
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
taylor price

seen from Bulgaria

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Germany
seen from Bulgaria

seen from Brunei

seen from United States

seen from Hong Kong SAR China

seen from Germany
seen from Italy
seen from Bulgaria

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Singapore

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Bulgaria

seen from United States
@gozonsky-blog
(via Schabarum Regional Park, Rowland Heights)
(via #120 El Dorado Tennis Center, Long Beach)
I felt glad to have found what is clearly a solid community game
This is the latest report on my quest to play tennis on every public court in LA. It talks about an outing to a pick-up game where I made a new 86-year-old friend.
I’m the rookie & the vet...
“The more Bob tells us, the more he keeps hidden.” -- Adam from The Crudes
I wanna be the poppa, you can be the mom...
The contrast between rich folks’ silver-spooning it ‘til the tax man comes to the door -- that’s antithetical. I once heard John Fogerty say he titled it, “Fortunate” rather than “Favorite Son” because of songwriter’s prerogative, which went a long way to explaining “This ever-changing world in which we live in” from “Live and Let Die,” which had been puzzling me non-stop since 1973. And then, I just let go.
Did you know that this song exemplifies antithesis not only in its title but also in its loud/soft, slow/fast, rock/reggae dynamics?
You know you did, you know you did, you know you did.
They’re a modern stone-aged family.
Meet the new boss/Same as the old boss...
Sittin’ in the morning sun, and I’ll be sittin’ when the evening comes
Play me in the win-TAH, play me in the sum-MAH...
You don't care if it's wrong or if it's right...
I can't stand the way he sings, but I love the way he talks...
Young cop, old cop, feel all right....
Speaking of which, you may by now have inferred, Mr. Bond, that I have a liberal definition of both dance and hit, and even of yesteryear. Well, you are quite right, for all the good it will do you now! But in the time you have remaining, know full well that in my mind, which will soon rule the world, dance means anything from a toe-tap to a head nod (side-to-side or up-and-down) to the worm to the cat-daddy and on-and-on-and-on-on-and-on. And so I wish it could be, but you see, I have other business to attend to (insert playlist of songs with maniacal laughter here).
Sing with me Yellowknife!
Darkness at the break of noon eclipses both the sun & moon...
The important thing is to be your own Dylan: http://ow.ly/K3FEA