a personal letter:

fuk off doritos cool ranch
in the grand scheme of all things edible, you’re not that great.
furthermore, you are largely disrupting project summer bod.
pls don’t show your crinkled fake flavor dusted face around here anymore.
i will destroy you, and then, you will destroy me.
or we can both maintain happy, separate lives.
i prefer the later.

d

drunk

love of my life

hi it has been a while since i’ve made a personal post so i guess…

Summer is around the corner (it’s basically already here, thanks california). I don’t like shorts. I mean, I like shorts. Especially high waisted denim shorts, but I do not particularly like them on me. I like pants and I like skirts, probably because they best suite my i-am-not-a-model body type (though pants are fundamentally less pretty than dresses and skirts, pants mean more options/possibilities &yes i could rant to you about the beautiful nature of pants but i’m sure you already know). Due to increased nakedness, summertime manifests a cruel reminder to those with not-a-model body types, that they could probably eat less good food (by good food i mean pastries) and more salad (i love salad, don’t get me wrong), or perhaps run around in circles every morning before the sun goes up.

Unfortunately for us all, the cancerous qualities that our dearest sun induces are not relieved by Coppertone (though most of us are convinced that it might help). Therefore, i generally reject you, sun screen, for you smell like fresh plastic and make my skin look pasty and, who knows, apparently, you too cause cancer: SPFnotworthit.

Consequentially, the summertime tendency for my left arm’s tan to become starkly unbalanced may be a sign that I need to drive less (or perhaps find faith in sunscreen), but ultimately, it is an effect brought to you by that bitchy ignited dwarf up there — the one we circle around ‘cause we need to, I guess, and exists as one of the many examples of why one may not promptly appreciate summer.

With that being said, I am not going to complain about the weather (or did that just happen?), because even though I greatly dislike the 90+ inferno custom to california summers, the perks of warm nights are somehow, sometimes, worth perpetual sweat, peeling skin, and feeling overweight.

au revoir, j’ai besoin touer le chat.

enlaretina:

La pintura hiperrealista de Lee Price.

Desnudos y comida en la bañera.

palides:

(by lydiagreenaway)

r u reel

If you don’t know about Amina or the topless jihads world wide today I suggest you get googling, Amina Tyler is a 19 year old woman who posted bare breasted photos with the slogan “My Body is My Own and Not the Source of Anyone’s Honor” on her chest. She was arrested and sentenced to “100 lashes” and being “stoned to death”. She went missing and in response FEMEN activists are staging bare cheated protests. This image displays a man kicking an activist protesting outside a mosque. WAKE UP. NUDITY IS NOT A CRIME.

(Source: se7enteenblack)

instagram:

San Francisco Instagrammers Say Farewell to #thatSFtree

San Francisco mourns the loss of the iconic cypress tree atop Mt. Davidson: #thatsftree

In cities across the world, certain places become pilgrimage sites for Instagrammers. New York has the Brooklyn Bridge, Los Angeles has Griffith Observatory, and San Francisco had #thatsftree.

The tree, a long-deceased tree atop Mount Davidson, San Francisco’s tallest hill, became a place for the city’s Instagram community to come together. The tree’s pale color and slight lean perfectly framed views of downtown San Francisco or the Sutro Tower atop Twin Peaks. Sadly, the tree came down in unusually strong winds on Sunday night. Many traveled to tree last evening to pay respects.