Louise by Guy Borremans, 1973
Today's Document
i don't do bad sauce passes
noise dept.
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
AnasAbdin
Keni

oozey mess
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Andulka
Misplaced Lens Cap

Product Placement
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
KIROKAZE
No title available
RMH
hello vonnie

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tannertan36

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Australia
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seen from United States

seen from Singapore
seen from Brazil
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seen from Japan
seen from United States

seen from Netherlands

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@peekab00bs
Louise by Guy Borremans, 1973
Radiorama 1964
The Dybbuk, 1937.
anyone else remember being a child and seeing the very neat handwriting of other little girls and somehow knowing that you were a different genre of person than they were
literally no…i remember seeing bad handwriting & thinking “oh these other kids must be orphans or something”
fascinating to hear from the other genre, thanks for your contribution
Enough about girl bosses what about girl losers. Girls who do absolutely nothing.
Photo by Angelina Rose in Quarantine.
it’s sometimes hard to believe rasputin was real. like there’s no non-fucked up part of rasputin’s existence
did he do something problematic i thought he was just russia’s greatest love machine
basic (true) story: fanatical russian monk who has almost never shaved or washed and smells like goats shows up at the russian capital with a creepy look on his beardy face and everyone just assumes he’s a prophet or a saint because he’s got a cult following that believes he can cure illnesses. his stans are sexually obsessed with him and he gets just a fuckton of russian pussy wherever he goes cause apparently he can cure his true believers of illness with god-given dick magic. russia’s queen has him come stay at the palace and sets him up in luxury because she thinks he can cure her son’s haemophilia with the power of russian goat jesus, and they (allegedly) become lovers, probably, ‘cause she craves that unwashed goat-scented dick like the rest of his cult which she now (allegedly) belongs to.
then the worst assassins in the history of assassinations try to assassinate him, because all of russia is slutshaming the queen he has too much power over the royal family and it’s helping revolutionaries turn people against the royals. so these idiots have him round for tea and cakes which are poisoned with cyanide, but he is magically unaffected by poison they get the dose wrong and he doesn’t die, and then he drinks three glasses of wine, which are also poisoned, and he doesn’t die, so they tell him to look at a crucifix and shoot him in the chest with a revolver when he isn’t looking, and he doesn’t die, but they think he’s dead so one of them dresses in his clothes and gets driven to his apartment to make it look like he’s gone home to hide the crime, and when they come back he gets up and attacks them, so they stab him in the side with a knife, and he doesn’t die, and then he frees himself and runs outside, so they shoot him a few times more, including in the forehead, and they wrap his body up and chuck him in the icy river, and he doesn’t go into the water, so his body is found on the ice the next day. and get this…. he died…. of hypothermia.
additionally, everyone who wasnt in the party of getting rid of rasputin was pretty bummed out when they found him and his miracle dick dead the next day and there was a pretty bangin funeral of which the royal family themselves attended. however after the tsar was overthrown a few month later they exhumed his body and burned it because the new leadership was very adamant about making sure there were no ties left to honor the old monarchy. however this dudes body had never been properly prepped for a cremation which meant that under the extreme heat his tendons and ligaments began to retract and shrink causing his dead body to move and twitch around as if still animate. according to some testimony his body actually sat up straight on the pyre, and at least one spectator fired a gun at the body and another may have allegedly died of shock.
op was right. there’s no non-fucked up part of this dude’s existence. even his second funeral was fucked
Louis Armstrong plays for his wife, Lucille, in front of the Sphinx and Great pyramids in Giza, Egypt, 1961.
‘Snow Circles’ by Andy Goldsworthy