Lady Gaga has instantly moved from “what the fuck is up with her hair?” to “WOULD BONE”.

She’s channeling Kubrick and LaChapelle and exploiting gender norms; if anyone wants punk, this lady is it.

"just got home, let out the dogs, within minutes they cornered,attacked and killed an opossum. had to wash little bloody mouths .life on farm"
—

Martha Stewart (via @marthastewart)

Because of little gems like these, I will always be faithful to Ms. Stewart.

iteeth: roomthily: FINALLY: Star Wars Tauntaun Cake » Great White Snark created by Cake Nouveau You have GOT to be kidding me.

iteeth:

roomthily:

FINALLY: Star Wars Tauntaun Cake » Great White Snark

created by Cake Nouveau

You have GOT to be kidding me.

hannahjensen: this seriously happened.  the infamous mouse-killer herself tells the story best … it’s not the crunch of the leaves my new apartment is nice. it’s nothing extravagant, but a very charming little place that’s clean and is the habitat of two awesome roommates. (it also contains numerous religious artifacts purchased at nearby dollar stores - there are good auras all around.) i moved in knowing there had been a mouse sighting a few weeks back. in ny, rodents, creatures, cockroaches, and all sorts of etymological wonders aren’t uncommon encounters on a regular basis. felix- a baby mouse - was the animal de jour in our abode. if i’m going to share my space with any rodent it better be a teeny companion over something with giant teeth, plus felix was elusive - a recluse. i wouldn’t have believed his existence if not for the photographic evidence the roomies were able to capture, so i didn’t think anything of him. out of sight, out of mind. when i got home tonight, i ran for the loo as soon as i got home. i took a two steps into the bathroom before turning on the light. on my second step, i felt a crunch. a bone crunching, life smothering, blood spattering crunch. i turned on the light, expecting to come face to face with the world’s largest cockroach. instead i was confronted with the lifeless carcass of felix. after weeks and weeks of evading capture, i managed to smush him while blindly going to pee. the odds of this event are unbelievable, yet all i can think of is how grateful i am i was still wearing my shoes. (also.  you should be really happy i converted this photo to black and white … sparing you some of the gorier visual details …) Once upon a time, I too had a mouse.  His name was Chap and he lived in my dorm room.  While my roommates sought to trap and kill the little guy, I preferred to imagine Chap riding a motorcycle and going on adventures, much like Ralph S. Mouse of Beverly Cleary novel fame.  He evaded the traps for some time until one day he had a treacherous meeting with a sticky pad and a stretchy shirt; little Chap could not break free.  I went to my terrified friend to unhook the top from his little paw, with the intention of carrying him, sticky pad and all, to the outdoors where he could run his way to freedom.  Instead, the fucker bit me.  Attached to my index finger, I whipped poor Chap around much like a windmill and he fell, hitting the ground with such velocity that he met his death.  For a second I mourned the passing of Chap, but that feeling left me quickly.  You bit me, Chap, and now your motorcycle days are over.  It was your move, little man, and you chose your destiny.

hannahjensen:

this seriously happened.  the infamous mouse-killer herself tells the story best …

it’s not the crunch of the leaves

my new apartment is nice. it’s nothing extravagant, but a very charming little place that’s clean and is the habitat of two awesome roommates. (it also contains numerous religious artifacts purchased at nearby dollar stores - there are good auras all around.)

i moved in knowing there had been a mouse sighting a few weeks back. in ny, rodents, creatures, cockroaches, and all sorts of etymological wonders aren’t uncommon encounters on a regular basis. felix- a baby mouse - was the animal de jour in our abode. if i’m going to share my space with any rodent it better be a teeny companion over something with giant teeth, plus felix was elusive - a recluse. i wouldn’t have believed his existence if not for the photographic evidence the roomies were able to capture, so i didn’t think anything of him. out of sight, out of mind.

when i got home tonight, i ran for the loo as soon as i got home. i took a two steps into the bathroom before turning on the light. on my second step, i felt a crunch. a bone crunching, life smothering, blood spattering crunch. i turned on the light, expecting to come face to face with the world’s largest cockroach. instead i was confronted with the lifeless carcass of felix. after weeks and weeks of evading capture, i managed to smush him while blindly going to pee. the odds of this event are unbelievable, yet all i can think of is how grateful i am i was still wearing my shoes.

(also.  you should be really happy i converted this photo to black and white … sparing you some of the gorier visual details …)

Once upon a time, I too had a mouse.  His name was Chap and he lived in my dorm room.  While my roommates sought to trap and kill the little guy, I preferred to imagine Chap riding a motorcycle and going on adventures, much like Ralph S. Mouse of Beverly Cleary novel fame.  He evaded the traps for some time until one day he had a treacherous meeting with a sticky pad and a stretchy shirt; little Chap could not break free.  I went to my terrified friend to unhook the top from his little paw, with the intention of carrying him, sticky pad and all, to the outdoors where he could run his way to freedom.  Instead, the fucker bit me.  Attached to my index finger, I whipped poor Chap around much like a windmill and he fell, hitting the ground with such velocity that he met his death.  For a second I mourned the passing of Chap, but that feeling left me quickly.  You bit me, Chap, and now your motorcycle days are over.  It was your move, little man, and you chose your destiny.

We’re number TWO!  We’re number TWO!

We’re number TWO!  We’re number TWO!

Food delivery drivers are the only people that can call from an unrecognizable number and you will still answer.

southtwelfth:

The drivers from the Italian place on 35th Street always have 612 numbers. They’re usually students at South High, kids that live in the neighborhood with their parents.

A lot of the drivers from the pizza place in Seward near the University tend to have outstate area codes — 218, 507. A few 605s or 715s, and occasionally a couple as far east as 608, 847 or 920. These are mostly college kids from around the Upper Midwest working their first part-time jobs in Minneapolis and haven’t cut off their ties to home yet. The sandwich delivery places are the same way.

You never know with chain pizza stores. A lot of 651s. 651 is the least specific area code in the metro, in that it covers large swaths of both urban and suburban areas. A driver with a 651 area code could live an hour away, or 10 minutes away. A lot of drivers seem to have a 763. Half the big national chains don’t even deliver to Powderhorn. Scary Powderhorn!

Chinese places are the most interesting. Sometimes the driver has a 612 number, but oftentimes it’s an area code you don’t recognize at all — where is 262? — and have to look up later when you’re sitting at your kitchen table eating your egg rolls (it’s Pasadena, California). Many of them are southern California numbers, from places like Pasadena that you don’t think about on a day-to-day basis when you live in Minneapolis. You wonder about the driver’s story. How did he come to live here and work for the Chinese restaurant on Bloomington?

262 is so very much NOT Pasadena, California.  It covers the suburbs surrounding Milwaukee, thank you very much.

(via youmightfindyourself) Oh HEY Ice Cube.

(via youmightfindyourself)

Oh HEY Ice Cube.

thedailywhat: Pancakefries: “Ohhhhh yeaaahhhh” Ohhhhhh noooooooo. [more.] I just can’t help how much this picture geeks me out.

thedailywhat:

Pancakefries: “Ohhhhh yeaaahhhh”

Ohhhhhh noooooooo.

[more.]

I just can’t help how much this picture geeks me out.

1 of 30
Themed by: Hunson