Chriswren

"I’m starting to become pretty convinced at this point that “socialist” is a some kind of code word..."

Tue, 14 Apr 2009 22:05:55 -0400

“I’m starting to become pretty convinced at this point that “socialist” is a some kind of code word for “nigger”.”

- The Rotting Racist Underbelly of the Tea Party Protests [via] (via anthropophagous)

thedailywhat: Wow. I can’t even imagine how difficult it must...

Sat, 11 Apr 2009 21:31:00 -0400

thedailywhat:

Wow. I can’t even imagine how difficult it must have been for this baby to go around the neighborhood putting these up, let alone type them up in the first place.

Truly inspirational.

[via.]

If I had a domesticated miniature elephant ide never let it out of my sight. You dissapoint us all littly baby.

"Me know it isn’t normal. Me see disapproving looks. Me see stares. Me hurt inside. When me get back..."

Thu, 26 Mar 2009 02:30:41 -0400

“Me know it isn’t normal. Me see disapproving looks. Me see stares. Me hurt inside. When me get back to apartment, after cookie binge, me can’t stand looking in mirror—fur matted with chocolate-chip smears and infested with crumbs. Me try but me never able to wash all of them out. Me don’t think me is monster. Me just furry blue person who love cookies too much. Me no ask for it. Me just born that way.”

- Cookie Monster (via aja)

I hear you. We all hear you.

The Desolation of American Class

Wed, 25 Mar 2009 22:37:04 -0400

ilovegold:

A few weeks ago I was in Southern Peru hang gliding with Steve Jobs. He started speaking about some charitable foundation - I wasn’t listening of course - when out of the blue Steve has the gall to ask me if I would consider contributing to this said foundation.

“Steve”, I said. “You can’t possibly expect me of all people to give money to the lazy population that the PC police delight in calling the poor and needy.”

The point of this little anecdote involving famous people that I’m sure none of you know personally is to simply express the constant demands of the world’s population on myself and my super rich brethren for handouts of all shapes and sizes. No matter where I travel in the world, I feel as if I am perpetually stuck in Times Square; dirty people are constantly asking me to give them money so they can make crack sandwiches and have another child they cannot support.

It’s terrible that a great portion of the population of the human race believes that I have some sort of moral imperative to “help them”. This demand has risen to such a pitch that even the likes of my now ex-friend Steve Jobs has deluded himself into thinking that he should not only contribute money to the the stupid and lazy, but that he should proselytize for them.

The world has gone sour humble reader, the world has gone sour and soon there will not even be lemonade to drink.

ilovegold: I was in Beijing last night for a ball and I...

Wed, 25 Mar 2009 22:36:43 -0400

ilovegold:

I was in Beijing last night for a ball and I mentioned to my host Guo Jinlong (the mayor of Singapore) that I was feeling a little homesick. Guo Jinlong, or as I like to call him my little asian friend, took it upon himself to make me feel more comfortable by having a little camp fire.

ilovegold: Presidents will come and go, economy’s will crash,...

Wed, 25 Mar 2009 22:36:23 -0400

ilovegold:

Presidents will come and go, economy’s will crash, the prices of animals doing things that people do will come in and out of style, kings will be forgotten, religions will crumble, gods will die, but gold will always be the apple of man’s eye.

Einstein based his principle of relativity on the constant speed of light. African American men base their future on their potential to slam dunk. Is it so mad, so wild and crazy a dream - the thought that gold can only go up?

ilovegold: A few evenings ago I was at home, having a little...

Wed, 25 Mar 2009 22:35:55 -0400

ilovegold:

A few evenings ago I was at home, having a little fifteen course dinner being prepared for me by my servants; Chef Morimoto, Chef Sakai, Chef Nakamura, Chef Kenichi, Chef Ishinabe, Chef Kobe, and Chef Michiva. At some point that cute little Michiva started to get in an argument with Chef Sakai about how much foie gras to put into some sort of ice cream dish. They argued for quite some time and eventually each pulled out I-phones to provide hard evidence for their perspective view points.

Now before I go any further I would like to point out that not too long ago there was a plethora of items on the market that only the most fiscally endowed could afford. For the greater part of the history of England only 1% percent of the population could even own land. Now, more and more, things are being made available to the average, the mundane: In short, “the upper middle-class” can purchase most of the things that I purchase. This is not to say that they can buy everything; they can’t buy my jets, my hand made sports cars, my beautiful women, my art, my good taste, or even one of my small countries in Africa. Nonetheless, a good amount of the things I own, computers and phones, electric toothbrushes and portable Amish fireplaces, semi-automatic weapons and Stars in the sky, can all now be purchased by the average American. Which is shocking, terribly and utterly shocking. Part of owning something is feeling that it’s yours and that it’s not someone else’s. But if everyone else has the same things you do it’s just not the same. It’s as if a part of you was in someone else’s dirty hands.

So, to get back to my story I was sitting in my second favorite dinning room waiting for the Chinese line cooks to finish and they took out their I-phones - I, gentle reader, have an I-phone. They weren’t even American servants, but they still owned something that was exactly the same as some thing I owned. Or they did. I promptly threw my I-phone out my 15th century stained glass window. Before you know it even the homeless will have I-phones, and lord knows, maybe even food!

A Poem By a Poor Person

Wed, 25 Mar 2009 22:35:26 -0400

ilovegold:

When I feel bad about myself I like reading things that poor people wrote. The below poem is by a man who’s obsessed with aliens:

And So It Begins…

Trenches of my past,
these tears,
they burn
deep into my flesh,
face of my genes

Nostalgia,
sublime depression,
a sense of loss,
days gone by
that could not be kept
to present pace

The future,
my oyster,
lays tracks
across my grave,
a residual effect,
emotions lying in dust

(a friend’s aging photograph : cancer’s latest victory)

(a lover’s letters smothered in vacancies : once heated passions)

Loved ones,
the baby brother,
engaged… married

Mother, I was not prepared for this

Days gone by,
I am betrayed
in the present,
my mind,
lost in vacuums
of a past

Blissful times,
fresh,
young,
when last I kissed her,
that lover
in the letters.
Manuscripts of happiness

And then…
first calling,
first amendment to my being,
by entities maternal,
extraterrestrial

Warned was I…
such treasures never last,
falling to my knees

Six years,
eons… ages ago,
all has happened
in split seconds
of a sadist,
Father Time

(whiplash : nostalgia : backwash : deja’ vu)

He remains an aftertaste
in the continuum
of my time,
my space,
trench warfare
in the DNA of my race

©1999 Rick Smith

ilovegold: why dogs are better than most people

Wed, 25 Mar 2009 22:35:01 -0400

ilovegold:

why dogs are better than most people

riotrepublic: A hard boiled egg, wrapped in sausage, breaded,...

Fri, 20 Mar 2009 19:25:37 -0400

riotrepublic:

A hard boiled egg, wrapped in sausage, breaded, and deep fried. Simultaneously one of the best and worst foods on the planet.

realrealsoft: carlovely: (via)

Fri, 20 Mar 2009 19:22:28 -0400

realrealsoft:

carlovely:

(via)

takingdrugs: Submitted by mothmilk.tumblr.com happy birthday...

Thu, 19 Mar 2009 18:31:26 -0400

takingdrugs:

Submitted by mothmilk.tumblr.com

happy birthday brainland.

natashavc: When fascism comes to America, it will not look like...

Thu, 19 Mar 2009 18:08:31 -0400

natashavc:

When fascism comes to America, it will not look like fascism.

katyg

Hilarious

tesslynch: Indulge me for a hot sec: When pot is legal...

Sun, 15 Mar 2009 02:22:44 -0400

tesslynch:

Indulge me for a hot sec:

When pot is legal everywhere, we will have no deficit. Music will improve. Trader Joe’s will start making boston cream pie. The Twilight Zone will be remade with a giant budget. Everything will be available in 3D. Normal eyeglasses will have a 3D function. The farmer’s market will have a donut stand. The bathrobe will be improved upon. Key Lime soda will be stocked at every supermarket. Children will go to bed on time. Hammocks sell out everywhere. Ikea rips off the ball chair with the speakers inside. Netflix will be available on a 10-cents-per-movie basis, to accomodate the lazy. Spaceland will start getting the good bands. Traffic will lessen because more people will be safe on their sofas, laughing at an infomercial, or lying on the lawn being like fuck yeah, America, and drinking their hundredth arnold palmer of the day.

brainland: This shit’s really funny until you go to...

Sat, 07 Mar 2009 15:25:21 -0500

brainland:

This shit’s really funny until you go to Williamsburg and hipsters have splattered their free associations everywhere, like so much absurd and uninteresting seed. Suddenly every plain straight-forward “Couch For Sale” flyer tacked to a cork board in the pitch recesses of a bar becomes “Cool Beard w/ Guy Comes to All Yr Parties!!!111!” and a couple of the little phone number tabs at the bottom have already been torn away and so you run outside and want to wrap a blindfold around your face so you don’t have to look at all the pseudo-clever graffiti everywhere and know that every single coffe shop bathroom door in Williamsburg is covered in inane rantings by people who read some Baudelaire and just got it and then corrected each other’s grammar in Sharpies alongside crude drawings of dicks and mythical beasts and it’s all a fucking circle jerk of how authentic and original everyone is and so you take that blindfold and put it on and you run down Bedford Ave. punching directionlessly and if you happen to hit some motherfuckers wearing keffiyas and Wayfarers, well, they brought it on themselves because they were too busy wondering how to play kickball ironically, and then you collapse back home in your apartment in neighboring Greenpoint and you breathe a sigh of relief because you are defending Brooklyn from douche-gentrification and then you glance over at your Rockband set and the weird decorations you found on the street and maybe some volumes of poetry by dead white guys and in a silent offputting moment of clarity you think to yourself, “Wait… why’d I punch all those people when I could have just shot them?”

[via sraz]

realrealsoft: mollylambert: NO. you guys are assholes

Sun, 01 Mar 2009 06:51:41 -0500

realrealsoft:

mollylambert:

NO.

you guys are assholes

aja: PostSecret

Sun, 01 Mar 2009 05:05:33 -0500

aja:

PostSecret

soupsoup: saucy: sometimes, reddit threads are witty. —- >...

Fri, 27 Feb 2009 18:56:05 -0500

soupsoup:

saucy:

sometimes, reddit threads are witty.

—- > If you watch The Big Lebowski backwards The Dude finally gets his rug back.

—- >If you watch Primer backwards it’s about two guys who both sit around in completely normal boxes which they somehow use to overcome health problems, lose money, and become friends. Eventually they forget how to make a superconductor and meet two other guys.

—— > If you watch Back to the Future backwards, it’s about a bunch of people who know a bunch of things that already happened.

—- > If you watch Scarface backwards, it’s about a man who gives up cocaine and crime to follow his dream of becoming a dishwasher to earn enough money so he can visit Cuba.

—— > If you watch Alien backwards, a large monster gets tiny and climbs inside a guy’s chest, calming down a panicing crew.

—- > If you watch Charlie and Chocolate Factory backwards, it’s a movie about a kid who owns a candy factory who is slowly stripped of his wealth and luck as his friends and family show up.

furrowedbrow: mazuhl:

Wed, 18 Feb 2009 22:41:30 -0500

furrowedbrow:

mazuhl:

Ok, my one sad-sack valentine's lament

Sat, 14 Feb 2009 18:47:17 -0500

We spend the entire day together. We go from coffee shop to coffee shop to thriftstore to walks around town. We hold hands when there arent many people around and discuss what we like about each other. We talk about all of our problems and help each other with each of them. We go to each others house to do work and we pleasently sit there in silence until one has a difficulty and the other jumps at the chance to help out. We have more cigarette breaks than we need just so we can talk about something other than work. We go to dinner and have a few drink. Sitting around at the bar, talking about everything, each other, our past, what weve done wrong, what we want to do right. You lean your head on my should and place your hand on my leg. I run my hand through your hair. And its never awkward, never uncomfortable, always exactly where we want to be and what we want to do. Until you have to leave. Until we have that last cigarette before you or I walk out the door. Then we always have silence. Not the comfortable silence where you just happy to be sitting next to me. But silence because neither of wants to talk at this moment. Because talking is not what we want to do. We both know we cant do what it is we should be doing at that point. And this has happend almost every other day for the past month. And its not going to end, because your going home to that tall smiley faced souless douche that treats you like an ornament. And you will continue to do so.

sorry about that guys.