I believe you, but my tommy gun don't
Brand New
Game of Thrones Daily
trying on a metaphor
Jules of Nature
cherry valley forever
d e v o n
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will byers stan first human second
One Nice Bug Per Day
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

bliss lane
almost home

titsay
EXPECTATIONS
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Stranger Things
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NASA

Product Placement
art blog(derogatory)
Monterey Bay Aquarium

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@spacelandonhighland
I believe you, but my tommy gun don't
Brand New
Vancouver and Venus
Ahh, so nice, a fire.
Bummer, dumber
Bob: What did she say?
Me: She asked me if I loved her.
Bob: And what did you say.
Me: No, but that's a really nice ski mask!
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Get it right!
I saw the best minds of my generation, destroyed by madness!
Duh, Ginsberg.
Sup foo!
Hey World - Here's James Joyce
The French, moreover, were virtual victors. Their team had finished solidly; they had been placed second and third and the driver of the winning German car was reported a Belgian. Each blue car, therefore, received a double measure of welcome as it topped the crest of the hill and each cheer of welcome was acknowledged with smiles and nods by those in the car. In one of these trimly built cars was a party of four young men whose spirits seemed to be at present well above the level of successful Gallicism: in fact, these four young men were almost hilarious. They were Charles Segouin, the owner of the car; Andre Riviere, a young electrician of Canadian birth; a huge Hungarian named Villona and a neatly groomed young man named Doyle. Segouin was in good humour because he had unexpectedly received some orders in advance (he was about to start a motor establishment in Paris) and Riviere was in good humour because he was to be appointed manager of the establishment; these two young men (who were cousins) were also in good humour because of the success of the French cars. Villona was in good humour because he had had a very satisfactory luncheon; and besides he was an optimist by nature. The fourth member of the party, however, was too excited to be genuinely happy.