Yes and No and Maybe

The ramblings of a token twenty-something: young, wild and indecisive

For Some Reason Häagen-Dazs Is Making Vegetable-Flavored Ice Cream

It boggles my mind the lengths to which we go to make one food taste like another food.

This applies to all of those weird meal inspired chips, too. If I wanted the taste of ribs in my mouth, I’d get some ribs, not some ruffles. 

I enjoy controlled loneliness. I like wandering around the city alone. I’m not afraid of coming back to an empty flat and lying down in an empty bed. I’m afraid of having no one to miss, of having no one to love.

—Kuba Wojewodzki, Polish journalist and comedian (via thoughtsonfire)

(Source: ughbenedict, via thoughtsonfire)

Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?

I have a tendency to feel full if I don’t write things down often enough. Not full like ate a second piece of cheesecake full; full like Indy’s boulder is testing the elasticity of my intestines full. Sometimes I find myself getting inexplicably anxious and then I’ll remember the last time I whipped out a pen and realize why. 

I have exactly 72 drafts of various things that I can’t bring myself to finish, for one reason or another. And about 20 more half formed ideas hiding in my skull I have yet to lure out. What’s the best bait for thoughts, does anyone know?

I’ve always found that I am at my most self-destructive in early spring. This seems logical, in a sense. For those of us who live in four season climates all the April showers are a pretty blatant signal that it’s time to toss out the past and dust off the welcome mat for what’s to come.     

Of course this is what I struggle with. I can carry the bags to the curb, but when it’s time to let go I dig my fingernails in and squeeze until my knuckles are as white as the snow we are wishing away. 

Can’t say I’m mad about warmer weather though; it’s almost time for shorts. I’m obnoxiously into shorts. They’re going to put that on my headstone. Megan Honey: loved popcorn & shorts. 

Anything that gets your blood racing is probably worth doing.

—Hunter S. Thompson  (via dieworten)

(via dieworten)

Living dangerously.

Living dangerously.

It doesn’t matter, you know, whether you lock it away or feed it to the wolves. Whole and unbroken or bloody and bruised, either way your heart’s going to stop beating eventually.

Regular hashbrowns < waffle iron hashbrowns.

Regular hashbrowns < waffle iron hashbrowns.

"Wizards collect the cookie extract". 

This is fantastic.

Okay, fine. You win.

But you knew that already, didn’t you?

Jim Rash

—Dean Pelton's Rap

s

mercuryfish:

Well, I’m a peanut bar, and I’m here to say
Your checks will arrive on another day!
Another day, another dime, another rhyme, another dollar,
Another stuffed shirt with another white collar,
Criminals, Wall Street, taking the pie,
And all the black man gets is a plate of white lies,
Prisons recruiting, the police be shooting,
Them rap artists looting, them labels all deluding,
And Barack Obama is scared of me,
'Cause I don't swallow knowledge and I spit it for free,
Let me clear my throat!

Jim Rash is perfection.

(via communitythings)