Just give me one more chance to make it right

baliset:

ain’t no party like a Gatsby party because a Gatsby party don’t stop until at least two people are dead and everyone is disillusioned with the jazz age as a whole

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newyorker:

In this week’s issue of the magazine (the Style Issue), Pari Dukovic’s Portfolio of the emerging punk culture in Burma follows Calvin Tomkins’s piece about the upcoming exhibition at the Met’s Costume Institute “Punk: Chaos to Couture.” As the introduction to Dukovic’s photographs explains,
Punk in nineteen-seventies New York tended to be more concerned with aesthetics than with politics. It was spare, nervy music created in reaction to the embarrassing excesses of arena rock. Often, the “establishment” it railed against was your mom, or your school principal. (The final scene of the Ramones’ movie “Rock ’n’ Roll High School” is Vince Lombardi High exploding in flames.) Decades later, a punk diaspora thrives around the world. In Myanmar, a small punk community that stayed underground through decades of military rule is beginning to emerge.
Click-through for more, plus a slideshow of Dukovic’s photos: http://nyr.kr/YNc5aT

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gemmacorrell:

pug cone for icecreamfriend

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horrorstar:

cayminquinn:
harrypotterfacebookconvos:
#hey burton stop shipping your wife and your best friend it’s getting weird
tim burton’s entire film career has been a slow, faltering, roundabout way of asking for a threesome
Reblogging for the caption.

visual representation of autoplay on someones blog
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jussk8:

exactly

jennakay:

why doesn’t anyone have a crush on me i’m funny and i know how to make mac and cheese

foxnewsofficial:

i’ve procrastinated all my life and got by but now it’s getting to the stage i’m probably genuinely fucking up my future

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“Something else is hurting you - that’s why you need pot or whiskey, or whips and rubber suits, or screaming music turned so fucking loud you can’t think.”

- Charles Bukowski (via dealll)