It’s proved impossible for me to get this shot of former Philadelphia Police Cpt. Ray Lewis being arrested, published anywhere. I was adamantly rebuffed by the Philadelphia Inquirer, NYT, local NY papers, and Newsweek, before even looking at the photograph. One of the only published photos of this paradoxical and intense event is located here at the NYC Observer:
http://www.observer.com/2011/11/former-philadelphia-police-captain-ray-lewis-arrested-ows/
Wow.
WHAT IS THIS WHO AM I I DON’T EVEN
HOW IS THIS MY LIFE??
Here’s how the West End of Vancouver sounded when the clock ran out of time at the end of Game 5 of the Stanley Cup Finals. I can’t even imagine Granville Street. (via John Bollwitt)
this. is. nuts! #Canucks (Taken with instagram)
They’re estimating 70,000 people came down to watch the game in Vancouver tonight.
Sorry, Boston… you guys just don’t want it as badly as we do.
I don’t even know this dog, but I kind of want this picture in a locket. Just for the therapeutic value, you know?
You can’t seriously sit there and tell me with a straight face that you wouldn’t want to own this.
There could be sesame seeds on the top of your head: YOUR ARGUMENT IS INVALID.
(Source: wavejumper)
But I hear there’s also a prison nearby where the mandatory wakeup time is an hour later.
SRSLY, YOU MUST READ THIS.
(h/t to art3fact)
epic:
alexlitel says: Openbook proudly presents the finest in American discourse.
It’s a good start, but I’m starting to think we should also give terrorists a little GPS boost in finding these people.
Srsly, tards, if you want to poke a bear, I will gladly sashay (and chanté) out of the way when the bear decides to poke you back. And at this point I’m almost ready to help the bear find you. (If the bear needs a cab, I can probably scrape together $20.)
Take one TV show you haven’t gotten around to watching yet that everyone is all jizzballs over*…
Add four seasons worth of next-day internet fapping…
Multiply by the number of people you follow on Tumblr…
Divide by how many hours you spend online…
So, what does it all mean?
I’ll need to avoid the internet for approximately 2.3 days every time a new episode of Mad Men airs in order to avoid being bored to tears.
(*YES, I KNOW I’D LIKE IT. I GET THAT. And maybe if everyone would put their erections away for five minutes I might actually attempt to start watching it, but all the jerking off is just wayyy too much at this point. Funny that the most retro drama on TV is on par with new Apple product releases in the way it perpetuates an inescapable logjam of insidery nerdboners.)
Starting to freak out a little about my week in LA that starts June 9. NOTHING is planned. I don’t drive a car and I’m still working out where I’ll be staying.
Go ahead, ask me what I have planned. NOTHING. I’m crazy like that.
Please help me plan fun shit [that costs almost nothing, because that is close to how much money I will have]. You can always email me.