In Econ class, Ochi told everyone this story during one of his lectures - just randomly:
“So the other day I was grading homework and then I come across this one paper with a grain of rice stuck on it. And it wasn’t just any old grain of rice, it was a FLAVORED piece of rice as if it was fried…
I’m not a procrastinator. I am only a patient person waiting for the clock to tell me when it’s time to start.
Film Photography Submission By: cristinachianti
hiking in northern italy, summer 2011.
camara - lomo lc-wide
film - lomography redscale xr 50-200 35mm film
My new favorite politician. Oklahoma Senator Judy Eason McIntyre holds a sign at a pro-choice rally yesterday that reads, “If I wanted the government in my womb, I’d fuck a Senator.” (It’s too bad, though, that the mainstream press seems focused on this particular sign rather than the fact that so many people came out to protest the awful personhood bill.
Can we please clone this woman and just have her represent every district? Please?
“The sign was brought by someone else, and McIntyre told The Oklahoman that she had a picture taken with it because even though its language is offensive to some, the bill being debated is offensive to women. “
Awesome lady
this is great
(via lisztomanism)
The Story of Sushi.
Check out this beautiful video my very talented friend Joe Sabia wrote and produced. It took seven months to complete and the handcrafted sets and miniatures were designed by Lori Nix and Kathleen Gerber. Directed and photographed by Vincent Peone for Bamboo Sushi in Portland.
Seriously check this out, it’s gorgeous.
(Source: imaginaryenemy-, via lisztomanism)
I’m small.
Tiny.
Miniscule.
Insignificant.
But most of all.
I’m secret!
You’ll never figure me out.
You rotten, little human.
Because you’ll never ever find me.
Because you can’t see me.
Because secretly…
I don’t exist!
Submitted by: Lilliput
Call it poetry,
And it is poetry.
Fuck line breaks
And to hell with imagery.
Metaphors are for pussies,
And similes are like dicks,
Ugly but sometimes needed.
Your momma taught you nursery rhymes
And they were poetry.
Your teacher taught you Poe
And that was poetry.
You discovered your favourite poet
And he wrote poetry.
It doesn’t matter if what you write
Is what you think
Or what you write
Is just spilled ink.
All that matters
Is that you call it poetry
And make sure you believe it.
