#shoot!

[piscesbabydolll]

Unfortunately I do want to be in a big man’s lap while he holds me and runs his hands all over me and maybe lets me suck on his thumb a little

[real-odark]

twin brothers peepee and poopoo

[cerastes]

Today is Friday in California.

[zielenna]

Here they feel as though they were in exile. In exile not only from the stage but also, in a sense, from themselves. Because their action, the live action of their live bodies, there, on the screen of the cinematograph, no longer exists; it is their image alone, caught in a moment, in a gesture, an expression, that flickers and disappears. They are confusedly aware, with a maddening, indefinable sense of emptiness, that their bodies are so to speak substracted, suppressed, deprived of their reality, of breath, of voice, of the sound that they make in moving about, to become only a dumb image which quivers for a moment on the screen and disappears, in silence, in an instant, like an unsubstantial phantom, the play of illusion upon a dingy sheet of cloth.

Luigi Pirandello, Shoot! (1915)

[sunflowerscottie]

*pats the root/shaw ship* you can fit so much hurt/comfort in this baby

[all-action-all-picture]

1978 ad for SHOOT! weekly. I'm not a football historian by any means but I have to admit £350,000 is a lot more than what I would have thought players would have been transferred for back in 1974. To be fair Bob Latchford's transfer did set a record at the time. Treasury of British Comics.

[lateseptemberdawn]

SHUT UP SHOOT! DOES HAVE A CHOREOGRAPHY OMGGGGG AAAAAA BET ILL LEARN ITTTTT