Sartorialist at its finest

photo source:Sartorialist

Why can't all guys dress this well?! (Or girls for that matter). Love , love, love, this.

meat cylinders

Last night I dreamed that I had an open hole on my stomach. Like a wound, but it wasn't bleeding and it was a perfect circle of open flesh. I pressed on the edges of it, like you would if you were to pop at zit and a perfect cylinder of meat came out. I told my mom about it and she said " Oh, those are polyps, everyone gets them sometimes. They go away after about two weeks" I was like, "two weeks?!" I knew this meant that I had more, so we raised up my shirt and there were at least a dozen of these circles. I told my mom that she would have to drain them as I had done before, because I couldn't bear to watch her pushing out the cylinders of my own flesh. I dreamed that after she had drained all of them, she packaged the meat and very convincingly sold it to a redneck man at a gas station.

YES

 photo source: pitchfork.com via subpop records

Fleet Foxes is coming out with a new LP in May!!! Hopefully I can wait that long.

Check out this great single!

yuck

So I saw Yuck live and was blown away, and extra stoked when I saw them in Rolling Stone, but listening  to their recorded stuff, am super disappointed. Riddle me this: why in God's name would you mix vocals at the same level as the instruments, making the vocals inaudible? I highly doubt they have the concept to back this up. Now I'm just frustrated.

11:11

At 11:11, quiznos sandwhich leftovers in hand, I wished to be thin.

sociopath

Me to sara and litsa:

"I wish I was asexual.Not a boy, not a girl, not both, just an it. Well, I still want boobs.  I just don't want to have have emotional or sexual feelings for anyone. Wait, I think that would make me a sociopath."

–noun.

a person, as a psychopathic personality, whose behavior is antisocial and who  lacks a sense of moral responsibility or social conscience.

 I read this aloud and sara said, "oh hey, that's me!"

cupcakes as a bandaid

Today I thought about my aunt, who passed away when I was 13. She was part of my daily life until she left me unexpectedly, and only in recent years have I been able to sort through my feelings of grief and confusion over aspects of our time together. I searched for her street name on google, and her exact address was the first result. I clicked it and it led me to a realty site that included pictures of the inside of the house. It was so entirely different. So modern, so...representative of nothing. They painted over the knotty pine paneling and threw white crown molding into every corner. I know I shouldn't feel this way, as I have no say in it's ownership or aesthetics, but I feel almost nauseas at the thought of an interior decorator coming in and saying "oh no, no no, this is all wrong" and destroying all the beautiful history and the better part of my early memories. I have been looking through the photos over and over again-eyes red and puffy, cupcake in hand, band of horses on the record player.