1. jessethorn:

    RuPaul, 1979, age 19. What a bad-ass.

     
  2.  
  3.  

  4. "I’m probably still checked for because it’s always been under-the-radar and I always been underrated. People still like the underrated artists because, once you go super over-the-top, they’re like, ‘He’s not our guy no more, we need him to be underground. We don’t want him to have too much recognition.’ As funny as it sounds."
    — Bay Area hip-hop journeyman E-40, from our 5-10-15-20 interview. (via pitchfork)
     
  5. (Source: bodying)

     

  6. I wrote this when Lou Reed died.

     
  7. daveshumka:

    I just created this animated GIF. I believe it’s the from the rumble at the end of The Wanderers. I didn’t actually watch the whole movie.

    Please take this GIF and use it for reactions in your blog posts. Maybe you need a GIF for your post, “What Black Friday is really like.” This is your GIF. Maybe you need it for your post, “10 GIFs that are more Machete Kills than Machete Kills.” You know, whatever. Maybe you’re doing a blog post about “15 tough guys in slacks.” Who’s to say? I’m not the boss of you. This animated GIF is merely an empty vessel to be filled with your blog post — whether it’s a blog post about how your day could get worse, growing up with an older brother, or the objectification of men. Feel free to use this animated GIF for any blog post, even one titled “What you think of when you hear the phrase ‘slammin hotties.’” It’s up to you.

     

  8. Sophomoric Poetry: #2

    image

    My Stillness:
    Had she really resolved,
    To fall into that tank,
    Exposed to the world as never before?

    She had,
    So much so that the tank,
    Within an hour,
    Decided to walk that marathon he had promised himself he would run.

    The carnival that he started that day lasted for two weeks,
    Eleven days longer than usual.
    Fingers that had thumped freshly at what had looked like a seahorse,
    Squeaked, much later, on balloons now hardly able to float upright.

    Experts predicted that the latex wasted would not biodegrade for two hundred years,
    I, however, was stuck in the short term:
    Worried by the fact that it was all in my house,
    The mayor having made an example of me specifically.

    My Stillness,
    Squeezing weakly out of those balloons,
    Ignored my anger for the moment
    And suggested we contact the tank,
    Who, it turned out, was our city’s waste disposal specialist.

    One can only imagine how awkward that dinner party was in its first few hours.
    The second half,
    However,
    Became a friendly yet competitive night of drinking,
    Which I, obviously, lost.

    When I awoke the next morning,
    Both My Stillness and the tank were gone,
    Along with the latex we had stomped in all night.
    All that was left was mold,
    Attracted to my horrendously dampened carpet,
    Which, within a week and to my chagrin,
    Began to smell terribly.

     

  9. The Quickly Compiled List of My Twenty Favorite Songs of the 1970s

     
  10. (Source: nprmusic, via funkyassdicegame)