"It's not that I've been dishonest, it's just that I loathe reality."

meme-meme:

Being an ashole is funny. (*asshole)

meme-meme:

Being an ashole is funny. (*asshole)

Source: meme-meme

fotojournalismus:

A Palestinian woman stands in front of a destroyed house by Gaza’s border with Egypt in Rafah, Feb. 13, 2007. Under this house, a dozen Palestinians work at night, clandestinely digging an 800-meter-long tunnel to smuggle weapons from Egypt into Gaza.
[Credit : Alexandra Boulat]

fotojournalismus:

A Palestinian woman stands in front of a destroyed house by Gaza’s border with Egypt in Rafah, Feb. 13, 2007. Under this house, a dozen Palestinians work at night, clandestinely digging an 800-meter-long tunnel to smuggle weapons from Egypt into Gaza.

[Credit : Alexandra Boulat]

Source: fotojournalismus

irideae:

Left side ow ow!

irideae:

Left side ow ow!

Source: donpe

tallwhitney:

I love this so hard. (Taken with instagram)

tallwhitney:

I love this so hard. (Taken with instagram)

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Source: tallwhitney

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Source: r4dicalnotion

gq:

50 Things a Man Does Not Have to Do Before He Dies

42. RUN WITH THE BULLS
Sometimes it’s the fate of a good writer to bear the blame for what he inspires a bunch of idiots to do. Hunter S. Thompson is on the hook for a generation convinced it’s charming to be a drug-addicted asshole. Jack Kerouac spawned a million annoying vagabonds. And then, of course, there’s Ernest Hemingway, who has to answer not only for reams of bad, muscular prose but also for turning the San Fermín festival, celebrated in the town of Pamplona, Spain, into a three-minute institutionalized rite of passage, offering a frisson of real danger to the proceedings without being automatically fatal. It’s worth remembering, though, that courting death is not, ipso facto, cool. If there were a contest in Toledo where you drank a bottle of Drano and saw what happened, would you be proud to tell stories about it over dinner?

gq:

50 Things a Man Does Not Have to Do Before He Dies

42. RUN WITH THE BULLS

Sometimes it’s the fate of a good writer to bear the blame for what he inspires a bunch of idiots to do. Hunter S. Thompson is on the hook for a generation convinced it’s charming to be a drug-addicted asshole. Jack Kerouac spawned a million annoying vagabonds. And then, of course, there’s Ernest Hemingway, who has to answer not only for reams of bad, muscular prose but also for turning the San Fermín festival, celebrated in the town of Pamplona, Spain, into a three-minute institutionalized rite of passage, offering a frisson of real danger to the proceedings without being automatically fatal. It’s worth remembering, though, that courting death is not, ipso facto, cool. If there were a contest in Toledo where you drank a bottle of Drano and saw what happened, would you be proud to tell stories about it over dinner?

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Source: herphany

Watched. Loved.

Watched. Loved.

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