the best reblog i’ve ever reblogged
noise dept.
No title available
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

No title available

PR's Tumblrdome

tannertan36
Today's Document
Misplaced Lens Cap

No title available
AnasAbdin
trying on a metaphor
Xuebing Du
tumblr dot com
Cosimo Galluzzi

shark vs the universe
No title available

Origami Around
Jules of Nature

#extradirty
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
seen from Brazil
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Australia

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Poland
seen from Brazil

seen from Italy

seen from Italy

seen from China

seen from United Kingdom
@thegapingmouth
the best reblog i’ve ever reblogged
Robert Frank Hunter, The New Ghost — Happy Halloween!!
THERES NO SUCH THING AS CLIMATE CHANGE AND COAL IS GOOD FOR HUMANITY
FUCK
There was a little man! A little man in his hair! #auspol
this is it. this is the most important gif on tumblr.com
Yes
Take any movie premise about a white man and make it about a grandma and it becomes twice as interesting
If eyes glaze over during my next pitch, I'm busting this shiz out
September 2009 - Alison goes missing.
________________
Season 1: Liars begin junior year.
September 2010 - Aria returns from Iceland (1x01).
September 2010 - Liars start getting -A texts.
Sept/Oct 2010 - Ian falls off belltower (1x22).
(Note: Season 1 took place over 8 weeks)
...
Free hoodies this adrenalized hyperreal November
Brenna Twohy - “Fantastic Breasts and Where To Find Them” (NPS 2014)
Button Poetry is fucking rad and does an amazing job of supporting artists and making poetry more accessible.
*mic drop*
so here’s a fun story about this movie. guess who loves this movie? me! i do! i love this movie. i love this movie so much that when i was in the 7th grade and i saw “first wives club 2” on pay per view i was like: HELL YEAH!! FIRST WIVES CLUB TWO!! NO ONE TOLD ME THERE WAS A SEQUEL!!!
here’s the synopsis for first wives club 2:
disgruntled first wives take their ex-husbands’ new lovers under their wing.
sounds great, right? awesome viewing material for a precocious 11-year-old.
so i buy this movie, and like, three minutes into it i’m starting to feel suspicious?? like it’s really low quality and my girls are nowhere in sight?? how come none of the first wives are the same?? how come they’re alone in a bedroom with mood lighting?? why is she taking off her shirt?? why are they both taking off their shirts?? WHY ARE THEY—
here’s what i did not know about first wives club 2:
it is a lesbian porno of no relation to the beloved 1996 classic.
so of course i, horrified that i’ve accidentally bought porn on my family’s account (and in that state of panic that kids work themselves into whenever anything regarding sex is mentioned), quickly shut off the TV and go upstairs and watch an episode of veggie tales to like, cleanse my soul and apologize to jesus, and that’s that.
EXCEPT, OF COURSE:
you have to pay for pay per view.
so the end of the month comes and i have completely put this incident out of my mind, haha, i accidentally bought porn, how funny, TELL NO ONE. right? and i’m sitting at a nice dinner with my mother, my stepfather, and my very religious aunt deb, and we’re just talking about farm things, whatever, when suddenly my mother puts her fork down and says, “okay, there’s something we need to discuss. as a family.”
AS A FAMILY.
and i’m like, running through a list of people i know who could conceivably be dead, and fantasizing about my mother announcing that she’s going to buy me My Own Computer Just Because U Earned It Kiddo, and she pulls out a piece of paper that says DIRECTV across the top. and i’m like: OH NO.
"i received the tv bill today," my mother said, and i was like, shoveling potatoes into my mouth as fast as i could because i knew that when i went to PORN PRISON they weren’t going to feed me this kind of quality starch. "does anybody want to tell me who purchased the pornography?"
as a reminder, a quick table survey:
my mother, surprised and disappointed by the porn bill (innocent)
my stepfather, a grumbly old cowboy who just wants to sing along to kenny chesney and watch the hunt for red october (innocent)
my aunt deb, a super religious catholic whose best friend is a nun named Sister Placid (innocent)
me, the 11-year-old with a mouthful of potatoes who definitely purchased the lesbian pornography
silence.
my mother said, “i’m not going to ask again.”
silence.
my aunt looked at my stepdad. my stepdad looked at my aunt. NOBODY LOOKED AT ME, THE 11-YEAR-OLD WITH A MOUTHFUL OF POTATOES WHO DEFINITELY PURCHASED THE LESBIAN PORNOGRAPHY.
my mother shook her head and put the bill down. “this was incredibly inappropriate,” she said. “skip, deb, whoever. buy that shit on your own time. i’m not paying for it. what if molly had seen it?”
WHAT IF MOLLY HAD SEEN IT?
"don’t expose my kid to that crap."
DON’T
EXPOSE
MY KID
TO THAT CRAP
"if you want to watch porn, fine, but do it in private and don’t expect me to pay for it. i can’t believe one of you did that in the living room."
I CAN’T BELIEVE ONE OF YOU DID THAT
IN THE LIVING ROOM
but molly, why didn’t you own up to it and explain that it was an accident?
are you fucking kidding
i did not want to go to porn prison
the fun conclusion to this story is that i never owned up to it, which means that there are 3 people in the world who have not solved the mystery of the lesbian porn. a quick survey:
my mother, who lives every day wondering whose porn she paid for
my stepfather, who probably wishes he knew less about his wife’s sister’s porn preferences
my aunt, who probably wishes she knew less about her sister’s husband’s porn preferences
but molly, why don’t you own up to it now, with the safety of time and distance and the knowledge that porn prison isn’t real?
are you fucking kidding
this is the best thing i’ve ever done
#breasties forever
Front and back of a giant custom order Monstroctopus I finished last night! They wanted an angry face on one side, and a kissy face on the other. It’s got about a 3 1/2 foot antlerspan. :)
My new beanie.
The Darjeeling Limited - production design by Mark Friedberg
The Prime Minister's statement was short and held back on tomato sauce.
WENTWORTH RECAP (2.02): MY VEGGIES BRING ALL THE BOYS TO THE YARD
Previously on Wentworth, new Governor, Ms Fergusson, decided Franky’s time as Top Dog has come to an end. Pulling her the plug on her drug trade, and by extension her control of the women, Franky suddenly needs to scramble. Hoping to throw a big grenade into the fire, Fergusson pulled Bea from her delusionary Debbie-land and set her in the pen with Franky, hoping they’d eat each other. But Bea’s blood lust is monogamous and strictly reserved for one person: Brayden Holt.
WENTWORTH RECAP (2.01) FERGILICIOUS DEFINITION: MAKE THE CRIMS GO LOCO
Once again we’re following a newbie through the prison gates, but this time we are tailing the prison tailored power suit of our new, cold, calculated Governor, Ms. Ferguson. Ever since Bea penned a love letter to Jacs’ throat, Franky has been The Law in Wentworth – drugs, contraband, and prisonwide fear spelt with a capital F for Franky.
But Governor Ferguson doesn’t go for any of the touchy feely malarkey that any unnamed URST filled Governors may have encouraged. No sir. She’s all about CORRECTIONS and being TOUGH and IN CHARGE and NEVER BEING FRIENDS. Basically she’s there to make the women her bitch. Which is going to seriously piss off Franky, cause obviously, that’s her job.
And sure enough, with hair pulled into the Bun of Doom, Ferguson’s first order of business is to power walk into Franky’s laundry, slap on a plastic glove Grey’s Anatomy style, and pluck out some well hidden drugs like they were just laying on the floor.
It tweaks Franky right out. So to soothe her frustrations, Franky has two of her failed drug mules fight it out gladiator style for her forgiveness. It’s bloody and brutal; even Franky is disturbed. But it looks like the more power you have, the further you have to go to keep it. And given Franky’s basically in charge of the whole complex at this point, she has to keep cranking the brutality up to eleven.
Over in the break room we find Fletch is all sobered up and anger managing. He’s all soft and perpetually sorry for being the world’s biggest prick to Vera (which YES, continue your shame), and to prove he’s a new man he even went to Bali for a whole month and didn’t get boozed once. Which in Australia is basically like saying someone is now ready to be canonised. He tries talking to Vera, but she’s become hard and twitchy and seriously does not have the time for Fletch and his good guy quest on account of the fact that her awful mother is dying of cancer.
She basically sighs with relief when Ferguson drags her away to stare at some bash victims. As they chat, Ferguson sees something she likes in Vera. Probably her relentless determination to bury herself in her work so she doesn’t have to face Life. That, and the fact that they’re bun twinnies.
Franky’s sat up in the Governor’s office and she is so not into the redecorate. There’s a lamp in her and Erica’s make out corner and the vagina plant has been replaced with a row of super sharp pencils. Ferguson shows up and sets about testing whether Franky is going to be a team player or a CORRECTIONS project. They strike a tentative deal where Ferguson will help Kim train to be an accountant, so long as Franky plays by her rules. Franky is cocky as hell, so Ferguson goes about correcting that.
Ferguson jabs a pen into her own hand, idly pointing out that being top dog has a few occupational hazards. If Franky doesn’t like her rules, she can easily help some other prisoner take the top job and really, Franky does not want to be fired just like Jacs.
As Franky is heading out the door, Ferguson pulls out her trump card. It’s, oh nothing, just a pile of letters Franky wrote to Erica Davidson, the contents of which I am sure someone has already committed to the tomes of fan fiction.
Franky’s cockiness falls off her face.
Ferguson is two for two.
Back in her cell, Franky starts planning how best to set Ferguson on fire. Booms pulls Franky’s secret drug dealin’ mobile phone from her fanny to show her the footage she took of this mornings fight. Franky’s frown turns upside down. It’s the perfect thing to leak to the media and embarrass the new Governor with.
Keen to destroy a few more dreams before the day is out, Ferguson shuts down Will’s drug and alcohol support group. She cuts short her ‘caring is for losers’ speech when a reporter shows up with Franky’s footage. In one smooth breath, Ferguson tells her to stick her video right where Boomer keeps her mobile phone… because she’ll give her first dips on all future prison news. Hands are shook and the footage is dead.
With Franky becoming way too much effort, Fergie gets to wondering like the rest of us: where is Bea Smith. Well, she’s just living in a sepia tinted world of Debbie delusion.
It’s a gorgeously soft focus place, where Bea and Debbie perpetually eat toast and plan Debbie’s formal outfit to be some awful frilly seventies thing mums always love.
I’m not sure what teenage girls picture heaven to be like these days, but I’m pretty sure it’s not your mum dressing you in ugly dresses for the biggest dance you didn’t live to see - for all of eternity.
Over in the Slot, Ferguson and Vera are peeping in on seriously tranquillised Real Life Bea. Vera tells us that Bea’s initial charges were dropped but now she’s serving twelve years for Jacs’ manslaughter. Ferguson decides its time to get Bea back in the mix, so its cold turkey no more drugs, and a zoned out Bea is rolled back into the yard. And even though Bea barely even knows her own name, Franky is immediately convinced Bea’s planning something against her.
It only takes a tiny prod from Ferguson before Franky is jamming Bea’s buzzed out head into a sink of water until Bea hollers to everyone that Franky is in charge. It must give Franky a bit of a power boner, because nek minnit she’s attacking Kim’s nether regions like the secret to ultimate control is buried in there.
Bea on the other hand is ready to flip tables. This Debbie-less non-fantasy world is hard and violent and plain out sucks balls. She gets restrained in medical until the worst of her withdrawal passes. But it’s not enough for Bea – she needs to get back to fantasy post haste, so trades a favour to Franky for some sneaky sedatives. Luckily Liz is there to stop her, monologing her way into Bea’s mind and convincing her that she just needs to find something to live for.
Outside, Ferguson has brought Doreen into the yard for a late night rendezvous. If I were Doreen and had seen The Shawshank Redemption, I’d be crapping myself that the Governor was about to have me shot to smithereens.
Ferguson is unnerving as hell, but luckily all she wants to do is upgrade Doreen’s flower patch into a fully blown veggie garden. Doreen is super excited. Which in itself makes me nervous for her. This smells a lot like the beginning of Doreen being groomed for top dog.
Bea decides to pop one last pill to say goodbye to Dream-Debbie. She explains that she can’t spend her days spaced out of her mind anymore. She has to venture out into the real world because she has a mission now. To destroy Brayden Holt.
As Bea stares bloody murder eyes at Brayden’s picture, Ferguson takes another shot at Franky by moving Kim into another cellblock. Vera takes home Fletch’s tiny Buddha statue and Will gets called ‘scum’ via text. Bullies. Geez.
Next time: BLOOD LUST A GO GO