Oh shite!
I just remembered I’m heading to Ireland tomorrow. I should probably figure out what to do while I’m there. The potential list so far, off the top of my head:
- Cut a row
- Take a picture of something green (check with tour guide if they will have this)
- Keep sketch for a scenario
- Count how many times I spot a ginger
- Relax the cacks
- Drink ‘til I’m wrote off
What else should I do?
Ebony Magazine, 1985
New York Nearest Subway Augmented Reality App for iPhone 3GS from acrossair (via acrossair)
Okay, screw the flying cars. We’re in the future now and it’s much better than any flying car crap future. (Via Daring Fireball)
Won’t Live Forever (via thelovelybones)
Really? You can’t? It’s not hard. Here, we’ll make it easier: You won’t live forever. You’ll die. There. Did you grasp it that time?
Well, at least in your spare time between trying to understand simple concepts like life and death you could have chosen a nicer font or at least better anti-aliasing and spacing. Also, the background image is relatively pointless. Is that a cluster of stars? Or is it crumbs from a piece of Wonderbread on a black table? It’s unclear. I’m sure you meant it to look like stars to seem deep, but frankly, someone who cannot grasp the whole death thing shouldn’t be attempting to look deep.
New favorite Tumblr: That’s Not Art
GPOYILLF (Gratuitous Picture of Yourself in Little League Friday)
I’m the little squirt in the front row, second from the left, next to Kool Rock Ski.
No, we are not wearing different uniforms because we are on different teams, we are wearing different uniforms because we have no money. We made it to the regionals and, as a show of pride, had new uniforms bought for us by a local business. We were then disqualified because our uniforms were too pimped out and went against the tournament rules, and we didn’t bring our regular ones as backups. Seriously.
Wait, what? This makes no sense to me how these numbers don’t jive jibe. Theories?
Don’t ever go to an afterparty at Manute Bol’s house. He’s got a stripper pole, but the decoration and lighting totally kill the mood.
Holy crap, Nike sells a t-shirt gun for $1,500.
Bizarre, I was using that exact grill two weeks ago. (via alaskamiller)
Bizarre, I shat on that exact grill three weeks ago.
Wait, wait! I too have a hilarious, and yet no doubt original, comment on this cliché I saw recently, which, because I had not seen before and means you have not, need to hear. </every internet ever>
(Actually, I shouldn’t snark. I’m just grateful that Ed’s place is still in business, given the economy, and ever since that big box paddle shop SuperstOAR opened up the next town over.)
