Hooch is Crazy
Hooch is Crazy
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Tom Hardy for Esquire | May 2014


I’m not gay or nothing but damn.
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retrowar:

Hello there
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darwiniism:

O-mighty charmander crop tee
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"There is a Nietzscheanism in [Orson] Welles, as if Welles were retracing the main points of Nietzsche’s critique of truth: the ‘true world’does not exist, and, if it did, would be inaccessible, impossible to describe, and, if it could be described, would be useless, superfluous. The true world implies a ‘truthful man’, a man who wants the truth, but such a man has strange motives, as if he were hiding another man in him, a revenge: Othello wants the truth, but out ofjealousy, or, worse, out of revenge for being black, and Vargas, the epitome of the truthful man, for a long time seems indifferent to the fate of his wife, engrossed in the archives in amassing proofs against his enemy. The truthful man in the end wants nothing other than tojudge life; he holds up a superior value, the good, in the name of which he will be able to judge, he is craving tojudge, he sees in life an evil, a fault which is to be atoned for: the moral origin of the notion of truth. In the Nietzschean fashion, Welles has constantly battled against thesystem ofjudgement: there is no value superior to life, life is not to be judged or justified, it is innocent, it has ‘the innocence of becoming’, beyond good and evil…"
Gilles Deleuze, Cinema 2: The Time-Image (via taylorswifthecreator)
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davidtennantspants:

I HAVE SEARCHED ACROSS THE AGES FOR THIS GIFSET
davidtennantspants:

I HAVE SEARCHED ACROSS THE AGES FOR THIS GIFSET
davidtennantspants:

I HAVE SEARCHED ACROSS THE AGES FOR THIS GIFSET
davidtennantspants:

I HAVE SEARCHED ACROSS THE AGES FOR THIS GIFSET
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bongfucker:


bongfucker:

holy shit did you see that baby get owned in the face just now

but for real the cat jumped on the baby’s smiling idiot face, used it as a skateboard and did the sickest 180 you’ve ever seen. and the baby goes down still smiling like it didn’t just get owned as fuck
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"Everything in my head went quiet. 












All the ticks, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared. 
When you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you don’t really get quiet moments. 












Even in bed, I’m thinking: Did I lock the doors? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes. Did I lock the doors? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes. But when I saw her, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips.. Or the eyelash on her cheek- the eyelash on her cheek- the eyelash on her cheek. I knew I had to talk to her. I asked her out six times in thirty seconds. She said yes after the third one, but none of them felt right, so I had to keep going. On our first date, I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating it, or talking to her.. But she loved it. She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye sixteen times or twenty-four times at different times of the day. She loved that it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks on our sidewalk. When we moved in together, she said she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us because I definitely lock the door eighteen times. I’d always watch her mouth when she talked- when she talked- when she talked- when she talked; when she said she loved me, her mouth would curl up at the edges. At night, she’d lay in bed and watch me turn all the lights off.. And on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off. She’d close her eyes and imagine that the days and nights were passing in front of her. But then.. She said I was taking up too much of her time. That I couldn’t kiss her goodbye so much because I was making her late for work.. When she said she loved me, her mouth was a straight line.. When I stopped in front of a crack in the sidewalk, she just kept walking.. And last week she started sleeping at her mother’s place. She told me that she shouldn’t have let me get so attached to her; that this whole thing was a mistake, but.. How can it be a mistake that I don’t have to wash my hands after I touch her? Love is not a mistake, and it’s killing me that she can run away from this and I just can’t. I can’t go out and find someone new because I always think of her. Usually, when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin. I see myself crushed my an endless succession of cars.. And she was the first beautiful thing I ever got stuck on. I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way she holds her steering wheel.. How she turns shower knobs like she opening a safe. How she blows out candles- blows out candles- blows out candles- blows out candles- blows out-…. Now, I just think about who else is kissing her. I can’t breathe because he only kisses her once-he doesn’t care if it’s perfect! I want her back so bad.. I leave the door unlocked. I leave the lights on. ”







"Everything in my head went quiet. 












All the ticks, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared. 
When you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you don’t really get quiet moments. 












Even in bed, I’m thinking: Did I lock the doors? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes. Did I lock the doors? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes. But when I saw her, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips.. Or the eyelash on her cheek- the eyelash on her cheek- the eyelash on her cheek. I knew I had to talk to her. I asked her out six times in thirty seconds. She said yes after the third one, but none of them felt right, so I had to keep going. On our first date, I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating it, or talking to her.. But she loved it. She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye sixteen times or twenty-four times at different times of the day. She loved that it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks on our sidewalk. When we moved in together, she said she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us because I definitely lock the door eighteen times. I’d always watch her mouth when she talked- when she talked- when she talked- when she talked; when she said she loved me, her mouth would curl up at the edges. At night, she’d lay in bed and watch me turn all the lights off.. And on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off. She’d close her eyes and imagine that the days and nights were passing in front of her. But then.. She said I was taking up too much of her time. That I couldn’t kiss her goodbye so much because I was making her late for work.. When she said she loved me, her mouth was a straight line.. When I stopped in front of a crack in the sidewalk, she just kept walking.. And last week she started sleeping at her mother’s place. She told me that she shouldn’t have let me get so attached to her; that this whole thing was a mistake, but.. How can it be a mistake that I don’t have to wash my hands after I touch her? Love is not a mistake, and it’s killing me that she can run away from this and I just can’t. I can’t go out and find someone new because I always think of her. Usually, when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin. I see myself crushed my an endless succession of cars.. And she was the first beautiful thing I ever got stuck on. I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way she holds her steering wheel.. How she turns shower knobs like she opening a safe. How she blows out candles- blows out candles- blows out candles- blows out candles- blows out-…. Now, I just think about who else is kissing her. I can’t breathe because he only kisses her once-he doesn’t care if it’s perfect! I want her back so bad.. I leave the door unlocked. I leave the lights on. ”







"Everything in my head went quiet. 












All the ticks, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared. 
When you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you don’t really get quiet moments. 












Even in bed, I’m thinking: Did I lock the doors? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes. Did I lock the doors? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes. But when I saw her, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips.. Or the eyelash on her cheek- the eyelash on her cheek- the eyelash on her cheek. I knew I had to talk to her. I asked her out six times in thirty seconds. She said yes after the third one, but none of them felt right, so I had to keep going. On our first date, I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating it, or talking to her.. But she loved it. She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye sixteen times or twenty-four times at different times of the day. She loved that it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks on our sidewalk. When we moved in together, she said she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us because I definitely lock the door eighteen times. I’d always watch her mouth when she talked- when she talked- when she talked- when she talked; when she said she loved me, her mouth would curl up at the edges. At night, she’d lay in bed and watch me turn all the lights off.. And on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off. She’d close her eyes and imagine that the days and nights were passing in front of her. But then.. She said I was taking up too much of her time. That I couldn’t kiss her goodbye so much because I was making her late for work.. When she said she loved me, her mouth was a straight line.. When I stopped in front of a crack in the sidewalk, she just kept walking.. And last week she started sleeping at her mother’s place. She told me that she shouldn’t have let me get so attached to her; that this whole thing was a mistake, but.. How can it be a mistake that I don’t have to wash my hands after I touch her? Love is not a mistake, and it’s killing me that she can run away from this and I just can’t. I can’t go out and find someone new because I always think of her. Usually, when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin. I see myself crushed my an endless succession of cars.. And she was the first beautiful thing I ever got stuck on. I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way she holds her steering wheel.. How she turns shower knobs like she opening a safe. How she blows out candles- blows out candles- blows out candles- blows out candles- blows out-…. Now, I just think about who else is kissing her. I can’t breathe because he only kisses her once-he doesn’t care if it’s perfect! I want her back so bad.. I leave the door unlocked. I leave the lights on. ”
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Get to Know Me Uncomfortably Well
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dany + getting real tired of your shit

dany + getting real tired of your shit

dany + getting real tired of your shit
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"Sex without love is almost as hollow and ridiculous as love without sex."
Hunter S. Thompson (via dirtydonovangray)
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