The Tripod.
$LAYYYTER

shark vs the universe
Peter Solarz

Product Placement

★
🪼
almost home
tumblr dot com
Keni
YOU ARE THE REASON

Kaledo Art
styofa doing anything

#extradirty
Game of Thrones Daily

tannertan36

if i look back, i am lost
noise dept.
Monterey Bay Aquarium
trying on a metaphor
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

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@letswalktowherethewildthingsare
The Tripod.
15 Clerkenwell Close
GROUPWORK + Amin Taha Architects
“Even amidst the hatred and carnage, life is still worth living. It is possible for wonderful encounters and beautiful things to exist.”
— Hayao Miyazaki
Quarantine preparations
Hello everyone! Meet Skye.
She’s coming home with me next week!
for my linkedin
thank you ricky!! could you also upload your resume please?
Fantastic! Your credentials seem to be in order, and you are well qualified for the position of “belly boy.” Someone should contact u for a secondary interview in 3-5 business days.
was he ever contacted for the interview? did he ever get the job?
I was fired for OSHA violations and also biting
There are A LOT of crabs on Christmas Island, man.
They used to cross the road, probably, no definitely, without looking left and right. And they got squished.
Environmentalists had a hell of a job, keeping them in their lane. Traffic would have to be blocked for the duration.
But now, they have a lovely bridge, and no one has to ask: Why did the Christmas Island Crab cross the road, if they’re just gonna get squished?
Answer: They want to hit the beach. Because that’s where they like to have sex. And because the mummy crabs like to throw their eggs into the ocean after they’ve spawned them in the burrows that the daddy crab so kindly digs on the beach.
Look at them scurrying over their bridge, the smell of the ocean in their noses, the thought of copulation driving them on…
Whew! Finally, made it to the beach…now The Sex can begin!
Mission accomplished… And a few weeks later after a float in the ocean…
Back come the ankle biters…to the rainforest where they live.
the rising tension is written on her face as the drama unfolds to a climactic conclusion.
RYAN (HEAD-BUTT), 1999 “That’s not my blood. I was making out with my main squeeze on a stoop in the East Village and some macho jock dickhead walked by and called us fags. I don’t think he expected me to get up in his face. We scrapped a bit and then I head-butted him and could feel his nose break on my forehead. We ran for blocks, laughing at the top of our lungs, and then jumped into bed, where my boyfriend took this picture of me.”
boing he jump