(Reblogged from andrewquo)

chromedomed:

legomance:

how many ants are need to fill an apartment

tenants

(Source: thrandilf)

(Reblogged from andrewquo)

tarukai788:

thatonechick42:

littlecupcakenymph:

image

image

Oh.My.God. 

There ARE ACTUAL REAL MEN OUT THERE??!

THAT RESPECT WOMEN?

THAT ACCEPT “no” FOR AN ANSWER?

What.is.happening.

Quick, reblog this everywhere so we can learn and grow as a species!

the fact that this is shocking is saddening.

(Reblogged from andrewquo)
(Reblogged from thechocolatebrigade)
What I had not understood before I found myself in true poverty, and what [Jamie] Oliver probably does not, is that it means living in a world of “no.” Ninety-nine per cent of what you need is answered “no.” Ninety-nine per cent of what your kids ask for is answered “no.” Ninety-nine per cent of life is answered “no.” Cinema? No. Night out? No. New shoes? No. Birthday? No. So, if the only indulgence that is viable, that is within budget, that will not mean you have to walk to work, is a Styrofoam container of cheesy chips, the answer is a thunderous “YES.”

Alex Andreou, in the Guardian

(Via Slate: “One of the few British newspapers to come to Jamie Oliver’s defense this week was the Independent, whose columnist Grace Dent argued that Oliver is entitled to his arrogant opinions about poor people. Dent is right—Oliver is entitled to his opinions. But he’s not entitled to the position of culinary hero for a population he disdains.”)

(Source: interalia)

(Reblogged from thechocolatebrigade)

emptymasonjars:

faes-and-flowers:

lilzv:

"Where do you think Van Gogh rates in the history of art?"

"Well, big question. But, to me, Van Gogh is the finest painter of them all. Certainly, the most popular, great painter of all time, the most beloved. His command of colour the most magnificent. He transformed the pain of his tormented life into ecstatic beauty. Pain is easy to portray, but to use your passion and pain to portray the ecstasy and joy and magnificence of our world…no-one had ever done it before. Perhaps no-one ever will again. To my mind, that strange, wild man who roamed the fields of Provence was not only the world’s greatest artist, but also one of the greatest men who ever lived."

I can’t wait to get to this episode

I cry every fucking time.

(Reblogged from thechocolatebrigade)

bookshelfbelle:

Things I am good at: Finding and buying cheap books

Things I am not good at: Reading them in a timely manner

(Reblogged from abookislife)

bonsoirgrenouille:

cash or credit, fuckboy

(Reblogged from andrewquo)
(Reblogged from andrewquo)

twloha:

Greenland 2012: Chasing the Light by Zaria Forman

Artist Zaria Forman creates large-scale, realistic landscapes using only chalk pastels. 

"In August 2012, I led an Arctic expedition up the NW coast of Greenland. Called "Chasing the Light," it was the second expedition the mission of which was to create art inspired by this dramatic geography. The first, in 1869, was led by the American painter William Bradford. My mother, Rena Bass Forman, had conceived the idea for the voyage, but did not live to see it through. During the months of her illness her dedication to the expedition never wavered and I promised to carry out her final journey.

These drawings were inspired by this trip. Documenting climate change, the work addresses the concept of saying goodbye on scales both global and personal. In Greenland, I scattered my mother’s ashes amidst the melting ice.”  

Forman donates a percent of all sales to 350.org, a global climate movement. 

(Reblogged from smartgirlsattheparty)

warcrimenancydrew:

gohomeluhan:

As I’m walking through Target with my little sister, the kid somehow manages to convince me to take a trip down the doll aisle. I know the type - brands that preach diversity through displays of nine different variations of white and maybe a black girl if you’re lucky enough. What I instead found as soon as I turned into the aisle were these two boxes.

The girl on the left is Shola, an Afghani girl from Kabul with war-torn eyes. Her biography on the inside flap tells us that “her country has been at war since before she was born”, and all she has left of her family is her older sister. They’re part of a circus, the one source of light in their lives, and they read the Qur’an. She wears a hijab.

The girl on the right is Nahji, a ten-year-old Indian girl from Assam, where “young girls are forced to work and get married at a very early age”. Nahji is smart, admirable, extremely studious. She teaches her fellow girls to believe in themselves. In the left side of her nose, as tradition mandates, she has a piercing. On her right hand is a henna tattoo.

As a Pakistani girl growing up in post-9/11 America, this is so important to me. The closest thing we had to these back in my day were “customizable” American Girl dolls, who were very strictly white or black. My eyes are green, my hair was black, and my skin is brown, and I couldn’t find my reflection in any of those girls. Yet I settled, just like I settled for the terrorist jokes boys would throw at me, like I settled for the butchered pronunciations of names of mine and my friends’ countries. I settled for a white doll, who at least had my eyes if nothing else, and I named her Rabeea and loved her. But I still couldn’t completely connect to her.

My little sister, who had been the one to push me down the aisle in the first place, stopped to stare with me at the girls. And then the words, “Maybe they can be my American Girls,” slipped out of her mouth. This young girl, barely represented in today’s society, finally found a doll that looks like her, that wears the weird headscarf that her grandma does and still manages to look beautiful.

I turned the dolls’ boxes around and snapped a picture of the back of Nahji’s. There are more that I didn’t see in the store; a Belarusian, an Ethiopian, a Brazilian, a Laotian, a Native American, a Mexican. And more.

These are Hearts 4 Hearts dolls, and while they haven’t yet reached all parts of the world (I think they have yet to come out with an East Asian girl), they need all the support they can get so we can have a beautiful doll for every beautiful young girl, so we can give them what our generation never had.

Please don’t let this die. If you know a young girl, get her one. I know I’m buying Shola and Nahji for my little sister’s next birthday, because she needs a doll with beautiful brown skin like hers, a doll who wears a hijab like our older sister, a doll who wears real henna, not the blue shit white girls get at the beach.

The Hearts 4 Hearts girls are so important. Don’t overlook them. Don’t underestimate them. These can be the future if we let them.

You can read more about the dolls here: http://www.playmatestoys.com/brands/hearts-for-hearts-girls

ahhhh i’m so conflicted about this bc on the one hand i am sooo happy that this representation finally exists (i myself used to dream abt south asian and muslim dolls as a child in post 9/11 america) but there has to be a better way than with those tragic stories, right? i know at least it’s something, and it’s not inaccurate per se, but does this strike anyone else as yet another western well-meaning way of making girls of color, especially when they’re from other countries, look tragic and constantly oppressed? this is so good, i just wish it were better!

(Reblogged from fuckyeahwomenprotesting)

likearegularbookworm:

I want to live a life Mary Oliver would be proud of.

I should probably start with waking early.

(Reblogged from abookislife)

lindseybluth:

elijahkrantz:

There are lipstick stains on my capri sun

which lana del rey song is this from

(Reblogged from andrewquo)

(Source: floresenelatico)

(Reblogged from andrewquo)

bevsi:

if you have pets, please tell them i love them

(Reblogged from official-mens-frights-activist)