foodforthought

hitrecordjoe: Hey everyone, I have some cool news. The movie I...

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 15:48:50 -0400

Hey everyone, I have some cool news.

The movie I wrote and directed, DON JON, is now gonna be coming out a little bit earlier. The new release date is September 27th. Personally, I can’t wait for people to see it, and this makes my wait time that much shorter! And for all you fine folks who’ve been telling me they didn’t wanna wait tell October, well you’re welcome ;o)

thanks!

J

I just saw this preview and I am really excited to see this

coffeeandcockatiels: emmyhootywho: muchadoaboutmusicals: The...

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 08:26:44 -0400

coffeeandcockatiels:

emmyhootywho:

muchadoaboutmusicals:

The Original Broadway Cast of Disney’s The Lion King

Mufasa :: Sarabi :: Young Nala and Simba :: Simba :: Nala:: Rafiki :: Pumba and Timon :: Zazu :: Scar :: The Hyenas (Ed, Shenzi, and Banzai)

god these costume designs were so fucking good

I SAW THIS CAST LIVE FUCKING AMAZING

yes

caroro93morgan: Cursed Wolf (painting)

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 08:15:22 -0400

caroro93morgan:

Cursed Wolf

(painting)

darksilenceinsuburbia: Ashlie Chavez. Whale Chart.

Sun, 09 Jun 2013 20:28:24 -0400

darksilenceinsuburbia:

Ashlie Chavez. Whale Chart.

fammiguarire: I

Sun, 09 Jun 2013 19:59:03 -0400

Cigarette Psychology vintagescans.blogspot.com

Cigarette Psychology vintagescans.blogspot.com

Cigarette Psychology vintagescans.blogspot.com

Cigarette Psychology vintagescans.blogspot.com

Cigarette Psychology vintagescans.blogspot.com

fammiguarire:

I

"It is not impermanence that makes us suffer. What makes us suffer is wanting things to be permanent..."

Sun, 09 Jun 2013 19:57:34 -0400

“It is not impermanence that makes us suffer. What makes us suffer is wanting things to be permanent when they are not.”

- Thich Nhat Hanh, The Heart of the Buddha’s Teachings (via jaheira)

Photo

Sun, 09 Jun 2013 18:02:33 -0400

fotojournalismus: Istanbul today 1. A protester sits in a...

Sun, 09 Jun 2013 18:02:11 -0400

fotojournalismus:

Istanbul today

1. A protester sits in a damaged bus at Taksim square of Istanbul on June 6, 2013. The placards read “We demand the improvement of the education system in the police” (Kostas Tsironis/AP)

2. People take photographs and others read anti-government graffiti painted on the ground at the Taksim Square in Istanbul on June 6, 2013. The reasons behind Turkey’s eight day of protests are serious enough. But demonstrators have also reacted with humor, particularly on social media sites, often lampooning the prime minister and poking fun at his comments. (Thanassis Stavrakis/AP)

3. Protesters practice yoga at the Gezi park of Taksim square in Istanbul on June 6, 2013. (Thanassis Stavrakis/AP)

4. Young girls draw a portrait of Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan at a destroyed bus which is used as barricade at the Gezi park of Taksim in Istanbul, Turkey on June 6, 2013. (Thanassis Stavrakis/AP)

5. A pedestrian makes his way through a barricaded street near Istanbul’s Taksim Square on June 6, 2013. (Yannis Behrakis/Reuters)

6. Protesters sleep near tents at Gezi Park near Taksim Square in Istanbul on June 6, 2013. (Stoyan Nenov/Reuters)

7. A volunteer organized by the protesters cleans the Gezi park at the Taksim square in Istanbul on June 6, 2013. (Thanassis Stavrakis/AP)

8. Protesters play football next to a barricade at the Gezi park of Taksim in Istanbul on June 6, 2013. (Thanassis Stavrakis/AP)

9. Anti-government protesters gather in Istanbul’s Taksim Square on June 6, 2013. (Yannis Behrakis/Reuters)

10. A man walks past damaged buses near Istanbul’s Taksim Square, on June 6, 2013. (Uriel Sinai/Getty Images)

Photo

Sun, 09 Jun 2013 15:57:52 -0400

Jessica from Mannequin Series by Jerome AbramovitchAlso

Sun, 09 Jun 2013 15:38:53 -0400

Jessica from Mannequin Series by Jerome Abramovitch

Also

Photo

Sun, 09 Jun 2013 15:37:16 -0400

Trip to Porto, Portugal June 2, 2013 - June 6, 2013 from top to...

Sun, 09 Jun 2013 15:10:00 -0400

Trip to Porto, Portugal June 2, 2013 - June 6, 2013

from top to bottom: me at lunch with portuguese beer, church on our way into the center, me holding a hawk that a birdman had inside of a medieval church in Guimaraes (a town outside of porto) and some houses alongside the river in porto

mydicksinfire: driftwoodrecs: mydicksinfire: driftwoodrecs: m...

Mon, 27 May 2013 05:04:04 -0400

mydicksinfire:

driftwoodrecs:

mydicksinfire:

driftwoodrecs:

mydicksinfire:

driftwoodrecs:

mydicksinfire:

driftwoodrecs:

skeletonleaves:

mydicksinfire:

i found this little guy crossing the road and i had to stop in front of him and help him across the street and after i drove by him again i decided to name him fester and give him to my auntie so now we have a cute wittle turtle ((:

Erik “Turtle Christ” Schleigelmilch

good, it’s a red earred slider, non-native to most parts of the country and considered a pest and an invader, and is wiping out turtle populations in multiple states, including the entire west coast
you’ve got yourself a female there
if you’re gonna keep her alive, you’ll need a tank that had 10 gallons for every inch of shell (she seems to be like 6 inches, get a 75 gallon and you’re good)
you’ll need a high water level for swimming room, but not so high that she’ll climb out
you’ll need a basking area for her under a UV light (the basking area should be above the water, where she can be completely dry, but she must be able to get in/out of it with ease, but not the tank)
get a powerful filter for her to keep the water clean
feed her store brand pellets, feed her every other day or every two days, only a few, though, about the size of her head in total

feed her greens if she’ll eat them (not iceberg lettuce)
do NOT feed her gold fish, that shit worthless
she does NOT need a friend, especially a male

enjoy your commitment, i hope you research how to take care of her and don’t just let her die

edit: i’m sending you a care guide in your order
assuming i get your goddamn record in any time soon

THANK YOU SO MUCH

We had no idea what kind of turtle it is or even that it is female- i think we’ll still call her fester

I am not keeping it, my uncle is taking care of it. He’s got the smarts

http://www.austinsturtlepage.com/
this should answer any questions you’ve got, dude
the red “ears” give away the species (among other things, but yeah)
and the length of the nails gives away the sex
males have longer nails for mating and shit

ya i thought the red stuff was really cool looking. my uncle was talking about building like a coy pond type thing so idk maybe he will make her environment part of that but i will make sure to tell him to get a uv light and a lot more water

well if she’s outside, she won’t need a UV light, haha
but be warned that, being a wild turtle, any fish you put in there with her, she will probably tear to shreds

that is pretty much what i figured but t he area he was planning to make the pond is in the shade during most of the day

edit: do you think the dogs will fuck with it? they are generally well-behaved though. just getting a tank might be a better idea

if you read through the forums on that link, you’ll find horror stories of well behaved dogs massacring turtles
you could probably get a cheap rig off craigslist or ebay that’ll suit her

thanks. one of the dogs is actually pretty fucking retarded so they might have to consider that

i cant wait to get those tapes bro

“one of the dogs is actually pretty fucking retarded” oh my god I love you so much right now Erik. I MISS MY BROTHER

oh the glory

Sun, 26 May 2013 18:43:21 -0400

oh the glory

mondonaif: Ti stramo, ti adamo, ti abramo! E ti asmo!

Sun, 26 May 2013 18:40:34 -0400

mondonaif:

Ti stramo, ti adamo, ti abramo!
E ti asmo!

Frida Kahlo age 18 in 1926. Photo by Guillermo Kahlo

Sun, 26 May 2013 18:39:22 -0400

Frida Kahlo age 18 in 1926. Photo by Guillermo Kahlo

this is so incredibly sexy what in thefuck fuckin shit

Sun, 26 May 2013 18:37:03 -0400

this is so incredibly sexy what in thefuck fuckin shit

"I went into the desert to forget about you. But the sand was the color of your hair. The desert sky..."

Sun, 26 May 2013 18:26:13 -0400

“I went into the desert to forget about you. But the sand was the color of your hair. The desert sky was the color of your eyes. There was nowhere I could go that wouldn’t be you.”

- Jeffrey Eugenides (via hellanne)

I know this feeling

Canapisa

Sun, 26 May 2013 18:16:30 -0400

Canapisa is an organized marijuana legalization protest held in Pisa every year on May 18. Thousands of Italians gather in Pisa to march through the historical city to demonstrate their right to smoke marijuana. I was lucky enough to go to it this year during its 13th year in running. I wrote a short story about my experience there because it was so fucking awesome. I hope y’all like it.

CANAPISA IL 18 DI MAGGIO

I arrive in Pisa and its raining. I’m wearing sandals with little flowers on top of them with a tank top that I have to wear a racer back bra with because it exposes so much of my shoulders. I don’t know why cities that are less than an hour away by train from each other can’t have to the same weather. Damn you Florence. Damn you and your sun that teases me.

Despite feeling incredibly out of place, Pisa is beautiful. I had never been there aside from once four years ago to look at the Tower and leave. It has the same characteristics that all Tuscan towns do but with a more refined, simplistic feeling. The buildings are old, the streets are made of cobblestone… but Pisa lacks the grandeur and the “oohing and awing” you have no choice but to feel when you walk into Florence. It’s more simple and I already begin to wonder why I hadn’t been there before, aside from that one time four years ago to look at the Tower and leave.

I walk what seems like ages from the train station to Piazza Ghirabaldi where my American friend Zach and two Italians await me. Roberta sees me first. She barrels out into the street and salutes me with her hands in the air “Jesssicccaaaa!!” You can hear her accent even in the way she says my name. She laughs and spins about and I had never noticed it before, but it’s almost as if her big eyes and her curly hair protrude out solely from the happiness within her. The rain doesn’t seem so bad anymore, and I’m really starting to feel the excitement of being in a different city, even one that is only an hour by train away from the city where I live.

I say something in Italian like “I’m completely wet and I don’t mean in the way that it’s good to be wet” Roberta laughs but I’m not sure if she heard me right. We hug anyway and her friend urges us onwards towards an enormous group of people standing on a bridge one down us. It’s still day-time about half past 6. The moon has already stolen the sun away and cast its own strange translucency upon the rusted buildings which shiver against the rivers edge. I turn to Zach and say something about being happy, he agrees and we walk. Roberta’s friend is studying psychology but that’s about all I learn about her before we get the gigantic mob that is the Canapisa. The mob that is the protest we came here to be a part of.

We take each other’s hands and start to walk through the crowd. An Italian boy who I don’t see but feel him seeing me, says something in Italian about me being pretty. I don’t have a chance to look at him before we pass by him in a hurry. The crowd is full of dreadlocks and facial piercings and people dressed in black. I see a boy taking a hit of a small metal pipe and right before people invade my view of him he places his hand on the back of a blonde girl’s head and breathes the smoke into her mouth.

We pass a caravan of buses each equipped with large, black speakers that vibrate erratically with music each genre different from the last. As we reach the end of the bridge and the last bus which is our supposed destination, I ask Zach “can you feel that? The bridge is moving.” The second to last bus is playing dubstep and the people standing in front of it sway and jerk to the beats which command them. He looks at me incredulously “you’re trippin’” he says and smiles. I can hear reggae music and I know that Roberta and her friend chose the right bus.

Right as we get behind the bus the entire caravan of them slowly start driving followed by The People who stumble and dance behind them. It starts to pour down in a sporadic release of springtime shower. I’m smiling and looking at the sky as the raindrops fall from above and caress my face like soft, cool oils. Roberta asks me if I want an umbrella and I can’t imagine why in the hell I would I want one. My drenched hair and clothes coalesce against my skin and I swear it feels like god.

The woman in the bus in front of us pauses the music and thanks everyone for coming despite the weather. I can just barely see her behind the speakers and psychedelic decorations which cover the bus. She is brunette with a strong jaw-line. Her brow is concentrated, furrowed and intense. She pushes her body outwards and raises her right hand with each syllable that she shouts into the microphone. I don’t know if I’ve heard such a ferocious voice come out of a woman’s mouth and I decide that she is perfect to do just what she is doing.

I ask Roberta if we have any marijuana because everyone is smoking and the wafting perfumes are intoxicating in the most pleasurable way. She knods yes and adds “we have beer too” and winks at me. We smoke three or four joints as we walk. Everyone is vibing together in an enormous wave of good melody.

There are the others in their flats above us. Some of them shake their heads and close their windows, other apprehensively peak out of their blinds divided between an insatiable curiosity and compulsory speculation. The best of them open their windows and sit on their balconies looking down at us. There are people of all ages who smile and wave, some take pictures and wave flags with the words “legalize” written across them. We salute them back with warm smiles and open arms. Roberta tells me to put my thumb and pinky out in a hand gesture that at the moment she invites me to do it, I notice a lot of other people are doing as well. She bellows, head back, “it is the sign of the young people.”

We’re walking for a little less than an hour before the woman in the bus informs us that we have to stop playing the music while we pass a prison that apparently is home to some people arrested for marijuana possession. She has that voice again… “SIAMO TANTISSIMI! NON SIAMO CRIMINALI! PISA HA SENTITO LA NOSTRA VOCE!” (There are so many of us! We are not criminals! Pisa has heard our voice!) Another man steps in for a minute and says some things that I can’t understand. But we chant, yell and demonstrate the purpose of the protest: to legalize marijuana.

After passing up the prison the music plays for a short time before we get to the end of the march. Red and blue lights flash in front of us. The front of the line carries a large banner until they are directly in front of the police who hold out plastic shields. They are tall, serious and provocative. We part from the group before I have a chance to see what the banner said.

We spend the rest of the night wandering around Pisa. We stop in a small piazza to smoke another joint. Roberta and her friend accompany us to the train station and Zach and I spend the train ride home reading The Great Gatsby. When I get home, I’m wet, tired, and so content that I paid14 euros to spend three hours at a marijuana legalization march in Pisa.

jakiiiro: Photographs taken inside musical instruments making...

Sun, 26 May 2013 18:04:09 -0400

jakiiiro:

Photographs taken inside musical instruments making them look like large and spacious rooms.

mierswa-kluska.