1. Omg. Daniel Radcliffe is truly the sexy talking point gift that keeps on giving.

    (Source: sandandglass)

  2. Only Lovers Left Alive (2013), dir. Jim Jarmusch

    Just saw this movie. 7 months late, but for $4! I am now 100% on board with both Tom Hiddleston and Tilda Swinton. I can’t believe I hadn’t seen it before!

  3. I spent like 10 years of my life pretending to fly around on a broomstick and you’re asking me if preparing for a love scene was ‘tricky’ because the other person also had a penis?

    — Daniel Radcliffe (via hankgreensmoustache)

    Well then.

  4. Hell yeah! #feminism #safespace #boopatriarchy #bookstores (at Laughing Horse Book and Film Collective)

    Hell yeah! #feminism #safespace #boopatriarchy #bookstores (at Laughing Horse Book and Film Collective)

  5. plantsey:

baylee’s guide to recovery

    plantsey:

    baylee’s guide to recovery

  6. 26 July 2014

    45 notes

    Reblogged from
    tenebrum

    tenebrum:

A selection of dark artworks by the amazing illustrator Virgil Finlay (1914 - 1971)

    tenebrum:

    A selection of dark artworks by the amazing illustrator Virgil Finlay (1914 - 1971)

  7. laurieedelstein:

    A Bit of Fry & Laurie

    File under: my sense of humor.

  8. I hate it when a student asks a legit question because theyre confused and the teacher treats them like an idiot like no wonder students don’t want to ask questions

    Just for the record, I LOVE when my students ask questions. The day J, a student in my literacy group, first asked a question about something he didn’t understand in our book, I just about threw him a party. He did not get what the fuss was about. Anyway, point being, woo questions!!!

    (Source: yagamiyuu)

  9. (Source: moonmonkey)

  10. 20aliens:

Tavi Gevinson

    20aliens:

    Tavi Gevinson

  11. Develop a healthy relationship with food. If you’re hungry, eat. If you’re full, don’t eat. Eat vegetables to be good to your body, but eat ice cream to be good to your soul.

    Take pictures of yourself frequently. Chronicle your life. Selfies are completely underrated. Even if the pictures are unflattering, keep them anyway. There will always be mountains and cities and buildings, but you will never look the same way as you did in that one moment in time.

    Your worth does not depend on how desirable someone finds you. Spend less time in front of the mirror and more time with people who make you feel beautiful.

    Close doors. Don’t hold onto things that no longer brings you happiness and do not help you grow as a person. It is okay to walk away from toxic relationships. You are not weak for letting go.

    Forgive yourself. We all have something in our pasts that we are ashamed of, but they only weigh us down if we allow them to. Make amends with the old you and work every day to become the person that you’ve always wanted to be.

    — Tina Tran, Tips to being a happier you  (via exoticwild)

  12. Wow, the squid and the whale is officially THE most awkwardest movie I’ve ever watched.

  13. conqueringinthesun:

embroidered tote bag 

    conqueringinthesun:

    embroidered tote bag 

  14. nympheline:

This is my favourite bookstore and bookseller in the world. Bar none.
I used to get to Seattle every six months or so, and whenever I visited I always made it a priority to stop in BLMF and ask its keeper what he’d been reading lately. He possessed an inexhaustible memory, a comfortable lack of snobbery, and impeccable taste. The first book he recommended to me, upon listening gravely to my litany of at-the-moment authors (Barbara Kingsolver, James Clavell, Maeve Binchy, Neil Gaiman, Charles DeLint, Anthony Bourdain) was Tipping the Velvet. He also later landed me with Geek Love, Anno Dracula, half the Aubreyad, and more modern Literature-with-a-capital-L than I could carry home.
The next-to-last time I dropped in, I asked if he had any P. G. Wodehouse.
"I have zero Wodehouse," he said, "and here’s why…"
Turned out that some fiend had taken to creeping in every month or so expressly to inquire of any Wodehouse and, once led to the volumes, to buy it all. ALL. Didn’t matter the condition, the edition, or whether he had another just like it in his possession; the villain bought every single P. G. Wodehouse in stock, every single time.
Was he a fan more comprehensive, more truly fanatical than any other I’d heard of, let alone known? Was he virulently anti-Wodehouse, only purchasing the books to keep their wry poison from infecting the impressionable masses? The world may never know.
I didn’t get any Wodehouse then, and I didn’t really feel the lack. I found plenty of other treasures that trip. But here’s one reason why BLMF and its proprietor are my favourite of their kind: that was two years ago, you see. Maybe three. In all that interim, I never planted foot in that bookshop. Never called. Never wrote. And I’m one face out of hundreds of thousands, dear reader; one reader he saw twice a year for three years, then not again for another three.
But I walked in the shop last Friday. Nodded hello.
"Can I help you find anything?" he asked, lifting his head from the phone.
"No, I’m good," I said.
"Wait—hold on a second." He set the phone down, walked ‘round the towers of books balanced precariously on the desk, on the floor, and atop other, only slightly less precarious towers. He jerked his head conspiratorially toward the far end of the shop, led me carefully to a shelf way in the back, removed a tattered stack of mass market paperbacks and motioned me closer to see what they’d been hiding.
Fifteen pristine Wodehouses: crisp, heavy, and—
“Hardcover,” he said, and waggled his eyebrows.
Reader, I bought them all.

    nympheline:

    This is my favourite bookstore and bookseller in the world. Bar none.

    I used to get to Seattle every six months or so, and whenever I visited I always made it a priority to stop in BLMF and ask its keeper what he’d been reading lately. He possessed an inexhaustible memory, a comfortable lack of snobbery, and impeccable taste. The first book he recommended to me, upon listening gravely to my litany of at-the-moment authors (Barbara Kingsolver, James Clavell, Maeve Binchy, Neil Gaiman, Charles DeLint, Anthony Bourdain) was Tipping the Velvet. He also later landed me with Geek Love, Anno Dracula, half the Aubreyad, and more modern Literature-with-a-capital-L than I could carry home.

    The next-to-last time I dropped in, I asked if he had any P. G. Wodehouse.

    "I have zero Wodehouse," he said, "and here’s why…"

    Turned out that some fiend had taken to creeping in every month or so expressly to inquire of any Wodehouse and, once led to the volumes, to buy it all. ALL. Didn’t matter the condition, the edition, or whether he had another just like it in his possession; the villain bought every single P. G. Wodehouse in stock, every single time.

    Was he a fan more comprehensive, more truly fanatical than any other I’d heard of, let alone known? Was he virulently anti-Wodehouse, only purchasing the books to keep their wry poison from infecting the impressionable masses? The world may never know.

    I didn’t get any Wodehouse then, and I didn’t really feel the lack. I found plenty of other treasures that trip. But here’s one reason why BLMF and its proprietor are my favourite of their kind: that was two years ago, you see. Maybe three. In all that interim, I never planted foot in that bookshop. Never called. Never wrote. And I’m one face out of hundreds of thousands, dear reader; one reader he saw twice a year for three years, then not again for another three.

    But I walked in the shop last Friday. Nodded hello.

    "Can I help you find anything?" he asked, lifting his head from the phone.

    "No, I’m good," I said.

    "Wait—hold on a second." He set the phone down, walked ‘round the towers of books balanced precariously on the desk, on the floor, and atop other, only slightly less precarious towers. He jerked his head conspiratorially toward the far end of the shop, led me carefully to a shelf way in the back, removed a tattered stack of mass market paperbacks and motioned me closer to see what they’d been hiding.

    Fifteen pristine Wodehouses: crisp, heavy, and—

    Hardcover,” he said, and waggled his eyebrows.

    Reader, I bought them all.

  15. gemmacorrell:

(via Four Eyes Comic Strip, June 09, 2014 on GoComics.com)
Gemma Correll [website | tumblr | blogspot]

    gemmacorrell:

    (via Four Eyes Comic Strip, June 09, 2014 on GoComics.com)

    Gemma Correll [website | tumblr | blogspot]