I mean even James Dean couldn’t escape the allure. Dying young, leaving a good-lookin’ corpse, of course.
You did good, bird. You did good.
Pipes burst and light spills forth in shards. It’s a strange world, this.
It’s all different in the halls of Yale.
hollow eyes peering out from the the nooks and folds of reality. silent. motionless. staring. that’s the realest horror.
oh, and it knocks crap off tables.
six misty glass towers lined with numbers. Boston’s holocaust memorial.
We’ve been getting back into snowboarding lately, and Shirley’s already linking turns in her third time out. The cat, never wanting to be left out of anything, quickly claims a board for his own.
Where are we gonna get four XXXXXS bindings?
There’s nothing quite like a set of googly eyes to really bring a look together.
Me and Shirley spent a day in Williamsburg (a couple weeks back) and scoured some vintage stores for some good finds. Prices are way jacked up…thrift store quality stuff was going for ridiculous prices.