September 2011
1 post
7 tags
I am in total shock right now unbelievable
u wont believe what this ex did to her boyfriend!!!!! leanne.tumblr.com
March 2011
3 posts
October 2010
2 posts
“We have a huge barrel of wine, but no cups.
That’s fine with us. Every...”
– Rumi
“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I don’t think you can measure life in terms...”
– Diane Frolov (via coffeeanddreams)
August 2010
2 posts
Nothing beats cruising up a crowded and crammed 101 in the middle of the night, quietly blaring “How to Disappear Completely,” with the rays of a half-moon bouncing softly off the smooth sea, and look around and realize, for the first time, how alone you really are.
Doo-Wop is the BEST!
Mexican music sounds good too, accordion and all. Just that it sounds all the same when you’re drunk as fuck.
July 2010
6 posts
Six hours of sleep won’t give me that hangover I’m looking for. More like a quasi-hangover with a splash of semi-debauchery. And off to Mexico soon? Fuck it, let’s do it.
I love the dreams I've been having recently.
TOBIN BELL.
STOP ACTING IN THESE DAMN FUCKING “SAW” MOVIES AND GET A REAL JOB. WHY DO YOU POSSIBLY DO IT AFTER EACH TIME A CRITIC PULLS A BIG FAT D or F+ OUTTA HIZZER (Wenger reference) ASS FOR YOUR STUPID LACKLUSTER MOVIES?!
EDIT: An American remake (called Let Me In) of the brilliant Swedish film Let the Right One In?! This can’t be good. Why is Hollywood churning out pure, undiluted wads...
Only the bitchiest messages.
I see what this is. Not responding to my texts. Not picking up my calls?! Huh?! Think you’re better than me? Think you’ve outgrown me? “Oh, I’m so cool. I’m doing something from San Diego.” Hey, FUCK YOU. All right? Having this sweet-ass kick back, I was gonna fill your sweet stomach and liver with alcohol. I was gonna fill your lungs with the finest...
This is not the return that I initially conceived.
I can almost taste the residue of broken potential and so closely feel the inept workings of my body when I think of how much my thoughts are alien to everybody else. A shiver in the outlines of my back creeps through and I am struck with helplessness at the thought of another wasted life amidst this Age of Information. It’s yet one more squandered mind that decays from the banality and...
“I don’t know if it’s just because I’ve grown too content with my life or because...”
May 2010
18 posts
This is a joke:
“Margaret Trudeau goes to visit the hockey team. When she emerges she complains that she has been gang-raped. Wishful thinking.”
Alt*ered state of conscio^usness((!!))...
I saw a worm dangling from an invisible string off a tree branch today. The wind was pushing and knocking it here and there, and the worm writhed helplessly. Its dilemma was impeccably tragic: it could not climb the string that was as thin as air, and it could not struggle its way down to its death on the cement. My heart cried and I wanted to help it, but the hammock I was lying on was the only...
I want to write a song called "Fuck This Rain" to...
FUCK THIS RAIN, FUCK THIS RAIN.
When you’re under the influence of the ganja, everything is exaggerated. Faces, writing, jamming - oh, you gotta love that JAMMING - and sex. Now, I have a friend - she’s French, so this is a story about a paradox. I have this friend who is considered by Stanford’s harsh and downgraded standards as very attractive. But I kid you not, when I am ganja’d out, her eyebrows...
I’ve been smoking way too much recently. Actually, there’s never such a thing as smoking “way too much.” There is never a too much. I’m just afraid that I won’t be able to go to sleep or eat square meals without smoking.
I guess I’ll just eat circle meals then.
Should I be freaked or flattered?
Yesterday, I received an email from “Lucia”:
“A, Okay, so you might be wondering, who the fuck is this girl and why is she talking to me, but hear me out. I stumbled across your Tumblr a while ago. I think it was through the site’s Radar way back when or maybe it was when I searched for “Stanford” since there was a time when I would die to go to your...
Let me reveal something about myself:
I am quite easily the worst student in the world. I have the work ethic of a sloth. I am the Dude of Stanford.
When I think of summer 2010, I think of...
Lots and lots and lots of ganja. You can tell what’s been on my mind recently.
Either Gonzo journalism or museum curator.
Here to the beach to Los Angeles to Cape Cod to New York and back.
Screenplays! Stand-up! Write something, at least!
Mama Moosey’s home cooking.
My queen bed that’s been warming itself for me.
Maybe Newport Beach?
So much blazer-tagging.
There best be...
I fell in love with New York a couple melancholy...
It doesn’t help that I watched Manhattan, talked to that one San Diego-bred New Yorker, and now am reminiscing on George Gershwin. It doesn’t help that I am in love with all things Woody Allen (even his incestuous marriage fascinates me), with “Seinfeld,” and am planning to journey there in the summer. … What if I never go there once in my life?
Make my bud the Chronic, I wants to get fucked up....
Just realized I’ll be driving back down to SD for the summer. No planes, no baggage check, no bullshit! Means: dank-ass medical (I want some of that L.A. Confidential shit), Rice Krispies, cookies, hash, oil (for cooking food!), and lollipops. Looks like this summer is about to get funky!
After the Lupe Fiasco/B.o.B. concert last night,
I be feelin’ so black. Bumpin’ side to side, wavin’ mah hands in tha ayurr, keepin’ mah tricks in line, know wha I’m sayin’?
But now I’m about to eat some Maruchan. Back to Azn!
Nah brah, maybe I’ll eat a Subway sandwich instead. Never mind, back to a Twinkie.
Love, Hate, Cinema (1/3)
Why don’t we talk about this stuff anymore?
samryu:
This is a list of movies that I’ve watched in the first four months of 2010, because I like movies and I like lists. 1/3 of the year is already gone. Whaaaaaat?
Anyways, I tried grouping these films into the conventional 4-star system, but that didn’t work because most of the movies I decided to watch were just amazing. So instead, I...
April 2010
1 post
I think I’ve been avoiding Tumblr for months and months because I’m compiling a satire on Stanford, and I don’t want any of you to read my thoughts until it gets published and I become famous and end up signing your copy at your local bookstore.
I’ve clicked back at least 20 pages into history, and it’s good to see nothing has changed. Tumblr is still infested with...
January 2010
3 posts
First comes the chill.
Then the jarble of his voice. Mixed confusion. A subtle crescendo. And then -
Everythiiiiiiiiiing, everythiiiiiiiiiiing, everythiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing, everythiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing in its right place, in its right place, in its right place, in its right place.
Jarble, jarble, jarble.
Yesterday, I woke up sucking a lemon. Yesterday, I woke up sucking a lemon. Yesterday, I woke up sucking a lemon....
Last weekend was one big blur. The fine line...
Tim/Vanessa/any other person living in California, I better see you at Coachella.
Not buying tickets. Sneaking in on the back of a garbage truck. $300? Yeah, lemme just pull that one outta my ass.
December 2009
22 posts
“Sister” - Sufjan Stevens
YES. I can...
Moosey vs. Torchie.
Moosey: SHOVE IT DOWN THAT FRENCH UGLY THROAT! THE BOULDER THROAT - THICK AS A BOULDER, AS DRY AS A BOULDER (BECAUSE YOU CAN'T GET ANY), AND AS UGLY AS A BOULDER! BAM!
Torchie: I AM PREPARING A GOOD INSULT RIGHT NOW!
Moosey: ALL UP IN YOOOO ASS! HAHAHAHA, YOU HAVE TO PREPARE?! YOU WOULD DIE IF THIS WAS FACE-TO-FACE! ACTUALLY I'D DIE FIRST FROM YOUR UGLINESS.
Torchie: Well, I'm rubber. You're glue. Whatever you say...
Moosey: HAHAHAAHAHAHA!
Torchie: ... bounces off me, and STICKS TO YOU! DUNZZOOOOO.
Well that's just, like, your opinion, man.
I’ve been in a weird funk yesterday. I’ve been listening to only Creedence yesterday, and that - the nostalgia, the 60s, the rock-and-roll - prompted the puff, puff, pass that went on twice. And of course, I had to watch The Big Lebowski if there was Creedence and Mary Jane. And of course, I needed a “beverage” when watching the Dude down a White Russian every twenty...
Here's my take after reading the first fifty pages...
I’m going to say straight out that Stephanie Meyer writes in such a way that it’s impossible for guys to not hate the stereotypical female tween/teenager. The erratic emotions, the endless problems, just bullshit after bullshit.
Normally, while people say that voiceovers in screenplays or first-person narratives are cop-outs, I enjoy almost any voiceover or first-person narrative I...
You came back, you came back with a vengeance.
There’s something amiss in the air, and I don’t believe in the now.
“Bury the Bible at my feet
The testament at my head
If my dear father should...”
– “Fatal Flower Garden” by Andrew Bird’s Bowl of Fire
Patrick: Do you like Huey Lewis and the News?
Paul: They're okay.
Patrick: Their early work was a little too new wave for my tastes, but when "Sports" came out in '83, I think they really came into their own, commercially and artistically. The whole album has a clear, crisp sound and a new sheen of consummate professionalism that really give the songs a big boost. He's been compared to Elvis Costello, but I think Huey has a far much more bitter, cynical sense of humor.
Paul: Hey, Halberstram.
Patrick: Yes, Allen?
Paul: Why are there copies of the style section all over the floor? D-do you have a dog? A little chow or something?
Patrick: No, Allen.
Paul: Is that a raincoat?
Patrick: Yes it is! In '87, Huey released this, "Fore," their most accomplished album. I think their undisputed masterpiece is "Hip to Be Square," a song so catchy, most people probably don't listen to the lyrics. But they should, because it's not just about the pleasures of conformity and the importance of trends; it's also a personal statement about the band itself. Hey Paul!
[He bashes Paul in the head with the axe, and blood splatters all over his face.]
Patrick: Try getting a reservation at Dorsia now, you fucking stupid bastard! You fucking bastard!
“There is an idea of Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction. But there is no...”
– Christian Bale, American Psycho.
Finally watched this for the first time - inspiring.
I just finally read the lyrics to "Fireflies."
I am convinced more than ever that this is such a shit song. Sing all you want about not sleeping, Ben Gibbard should be losing sleep over this ripped-off turd squat. And if you’re ever using this song to ask someone out, just ask her the fuck out already.
Cocksuckers!
How could you block Mojo, you totalitarian twats?!