South Wales

You're 30,000 feet in the air, but I don't know if I've the courage. Because, at some point, I know we'll have to jump. Because, well, I refuse to just sit and wait for the fuel to run out.
"Are you happy?"
I counted the hours till you landed, and I'm still waiting

"Just stare it in the eyes with all the might you can muster in your balls. The big bad wolf becomes a puny cockroach, and you can drop your enormous nads of conquest on that motherfucker, crush it, then feel like a badass because holy shit, you just killed something by dropping your balls on it. Congratulations."

-http://negativespace.co.nr/

Sunday, December 04th 2011. It might just save you

My One Love

But not the light I see in your eyes

What you'll see is far from the me that you wanted to see





Thanks for sharing Patrick Durkee, you da bomb.

Something about today..

November 23, 2011- 11:57 pm
Male: So where are you guys headed to now?
Me: I don't know..I guess wherever the wind takes us.

--
Today they're dancing. All sorts of commotion and emotion, yet I feel quite at peace. The dog soldiers say, "Today is a good day to die." And a good day to die, it is.

So may these winds stir up the settled sands of ambition within me; may they sweep away the debris of ignorance; may they blow hope right back into the deepest crevices of my heart, as to engulf the parasites of pessimism. She will rest in peace. And I...I will have a chance to live.


Because it is quite insulting and equally pathetic to be able to comfortably look into the eyes of this girl, knowing that she is staring back behind assembly-line eyes. Ghost.

Thanksgiving

I can't decide if Thanksgiving is terrible or wonderful. I mean, here's what comes to my mind when I think about gobblegobble. We eat like there's no tomorrow, and maybe it's just me, but I feel like it's expected of me to only stop eating when that blazing, wet burp, reminiscent of auntie's stuffing, graces its way up my throat. Hello, gluttony. We think we are gathered to "celebrate peace and community between pilgrims and Native Americans". Lord Jesus. I don't even want to get started on this, but long story short, fuck western ontology for giving birth to dysconscious racism. How have we come to celebrate exploitation and lies? In the middle of our food coma, we then proceed to prepare for Battle Royale, leaving everything we've learned about courtesy at home (I don't think I need to remind you of this), and fight till the death for some soon-to-be-outdated Apple product. And how fitting, because that poor Wal-Mart worker was trampled all over by some greedy bitches the same way we land-hungry colonists trampled all over the Injuns.

But damn, at the same time, Thanksgiving is great for all the same reasons. Being able to do all these things, and do them conscience-free, is probably necessary. It's the one day people who are always so uptight or worried about wrong and right, trying to be healthy all the time, making every breath, sneeze, and fart meaningful, etc, can chill the fuck out. Stress and anxiety take years off our lives! And this holiday does actually make us stop and think about what we are grateful for, and if you forgot to tell your dog on his birthday how much you appreciate being able to pick up his poop, you always have Thanksgiving to save your butt. As we get older and realize that Thanksgiving is a fairy tale that some white dudes made sure was pounded into our vulnerable young minds, we can/should enlighten others who are forced to listen to us because we all know they're too lazy to get up and walk away from the honey baked ham. God bless Amurca

American Indian Studies M10

Some of the greatest things

-cracking my tail bone
-super efficient pooping
-vibrato
-fully charged phone
-Ticonderoga
-disneyland
-intense strings
-duty-free
-good breath
-eloquence
-unsmudged eyeliner
-people waking up
-freshly printed paper
-unspoken, unbearable yearning
-dynamics
-plain almonds
-windows down, heaters on
-dinner @ 2122 mesita
-wrinkle-free
-tea
-accidentally dressing for the weather

Never can have too little trust

This physical illness is quite like the sickness I feel inside. Everything that has anything to do with you assholes makes me sick. How many times have you all infected and poisoned the purity of friendship? Of trust? Of faith? Cousin after friend after cousin after priest after friend. I will never understand the workings of your malicious minds, but I think it's time I stay weary of all XY-influenced intentions.


My faith. Crushed. Pepper- makes me want to leave a stinging in your mouth. Sad that I honestly find it nearly impossible that a man wrote this..

I can’t describe the sound of her voice

The music in her hugs

Or the rose pedals in her walk

But I imagine that her words

Are like fig leaves

That dance to the sound of opinions that refuse to be silenced

The conviction in her sentences

Can make an ocean question beauty of its own waves

I bet the stars spend hours in the mirror

Getting pretty

Putting on extra sparkle

Hoping that she will notice them in the moonlight

I imagine the morning gets jealous whenever she wakes up at noon

I bet the knees of twilight buckle whenever she compliments a sunset

I bet the streetlights shine a little bit brighter

Simply because she is standing underneath them

I bet the sidewalk plays a symphony

Just to make sure that her feet have something to listen to in between steps

I can’t describe the sound of her voice

The music in her hugs

Or the rose pedals in her walk

But I know

I know that she is more than just another piece of land waiting to be claimed

She is a music note

Waiting to be loved into a song

She is an acoustic guitar

Waiting patiently for the hands that have been trained to hold her properly

She is a wind chime inside a culdesac

And her skin is a melody

That very few men will have the pleasure of hearing

Repugnant

Today I woke up wishing I never fell asleep. All of my insides on the brink of explosion. I want to yack. Must. scrub. every inch of skin. Between this banging in my head and the image of you walking in with a bottle of Jack filled to the brim with maleficent intent is an all-consuming urge to rip you apart. You play the pity card. Always feigning selflessness. The sad life of some helpless romantic who can't help but wear his heart on his sleeves. You know precisely what you do. And what I did was take you in with open arms. Now what you can do is fuck off for good.


Ludwig, Jean S., Claude, keep me sane.

The more we try to be ourselves the more we are forced to defend what we have never been.

I love myself excessively.
I mooch off every heart's welfare.

I don't love myself enough.
I betray my own legislation.

I can't love myself right.
I can't love, period

.

.:The politics of human interaction

Regulators

"On a cool, clear night (typical to Southern California) Warren G travels through his neighborhood, searching for women with whom he might initiate sexual intercourse. He has chosen to engage in this pursuit alone.

"Nate Dogg, having just arrived in Long Beach, seeks Warren. On his way to find Warren, Nate passes a car full of women who are excited to see him. Regardless, he insists to the women that there is no cause for excitement.

"Warren makes a left turn at 21st Street and Lewis Ave, in the East Hill/Salt Lake neighborhood, where he sees a group of young men enjoying a game of dice together. He parks his car and greets them. He is excited to find people to play with, but to his chagrin, he discovers they intend to relieve him of his material possessions. Once the hopeful robbers reveal their firearms, Warren realizes he is in a less than favorable predicament.

"Meanwhile, Nate passes the women, as they are low on his list of priorities. His primary concern is locating Warren. After curtly casting away the strumpets (whose interest in Nate was such that they crashed their automobile), he serendipitously stumbles upon his friend, Warren G, being held up by the young miscreants.

"Warren, unaware that Nate is surreptitiously observing the scene unfold, is in disbelief that he is being robbed. The perpetrators have taken jewelry and a name brand designer watch from Warren, who is so incredulous that he asks what else the robbers intend to steal. This is most likely a rhetorical question.

"Observing these unfortunate proceedings, Nate realizes that he may have to use his firearm to deliver his friend from harm.

"The tension crescendos as the robbers point their guns to Warren's head. Warren senses the gravity of his situation. He cannot believe the events unfolding could happen in his own neighborhood. As he imagines himself making a fantastical escape, he catches a glimpse of his friend, Nate.

"Nate has seventeen cartridges (sixteen residing in the pistol's magazine, with a solitary round placed in the chamber and ready to be fired) to expend on the group of robbers. Afterward, he generously shares the credit for neutralizing the situation with Warren, though it is clear that Nate did all of the difficult work. Putting congratulations aside, Nate quickly reminds himself that he has committed multiple homicides to save Warren before letting his friend know that there are females nearby if he wishes to fornicate with them.

"Warren recalls that it was the promise of copulation that coaxed him away from his previous activities, and is thankful that Nate knows a way to satisfy these urges. Nate quickly finds the women who earlier crashed their car on Nate's account. He remarks to one that he is fond of her physical appeal. The woman, impressed by Nate's singing ability, asks that he and Warren allow her and her friends to share transportation. Soon, both friends are driving with automobiles full of women to the East Side Motel, presumably to consummate their flirtation in an orgy.

"The third verse is more expository, with Warren and Nate explaining their G Funk musical style. Warren displays his bravado by daring anyone to approach the style. There follows a brief discussion of the genre's musicological features, with special care taken to point out that in said milieu the rhythm is not in fact the rhythm, as one might assume, but actually the bass. Similarly the bass serves a purpose closer to that which the treble would in more traditional musical forms. Nate displays his bravado by claiming that individuals with equivalent knowledge could not even attempt to approach his level of lyrical mastery. Nate goes on to note that if any third party smokes as he does, they would find themselves in a state of intoxication almost daily (from Nate's other works, it can be inferred that the substance referenced is marijuana). Nate concludes his delineation of the night by issuing a threat to "busters," suggesting that he and Warren will further "regulate" any potential incidents in the future (presumably by engaging their antagonists with small arms fire)."




<3

this guy..

29 more days

what i love about halloween is not that i get to be something that i'm not. its that i get to be something that i think i could have been. in a past life, in the next, in my dreams.

NDE

"In Raymond Moody's research, he discovered that at the point of physical death the individuals find themselves floating above their physical body immersed in feelings of total peace and the absence of fear. The newly deceased person finds that they can hear the thoughts of those present and discover that they can also move through walls and solid matter with great ease.

In about 40% of cases a tunnel may appear towards which they are drawn. They find themselves quickly moving through this tunnel often accompanied by a humming sensation.

As they move through this tunnel the individual notices that a light is getting closer to them and soon they find themselves arriving into this brilliant light.

At this point many people report meeting with deceased friends and relatives. Occasionally people see cities of light that are more beautiful than anything we can imagine in physical reality.

During this experience the individual discovers that they can communicate with others telepathically that results in immediate understanding.

Most people then meet a radiant being. Some believe this radiant being is God while others say he was Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, Krishna etc. It seems that each person translates this being according to their own religious beliefs. Whoever this being actually is, he is full of love and understanding. Usually at this point the being tells the individual that they must return to physical life. However, before the person returns they are shown a review of their physical lifetime.

This life review starts at the person's birth and continues through their lifetime to the point at which they died. This panoramic life review does not occur in time, as we know it. People have described it as everything happening at the same time, but also occurring chronologically from the time of birth through childhood, adolescence and adult years right up to the point of their death. In this review the person find themselves reliving all that they have done during their life. The individual not only sees every action that they have made in life but they also see and feel the effects of their actions upon the lives of others.

In virtually every case the individual believes that they are actually judging themselves and what they have done during life. They feel great sadness during the parts of the review where their actions have hurt other people, but they also feel great joy for the actions that have made others happiness.

Once the life review is complete, the being of light tells the person that they must now return to physical life as they still have things to achieve before they can return to this wondrous place. Most people say that at this point they feel great reluctance to return as it will mean having to leave this rapturous and wonderful state of being."

Whether or not it is indicative of what the afterlife is like, I don't know. I mean there is the "transcendental temptation hankering after the world beyond". But it brings comfort nonetheless.

"The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function."
-F.S. Fitzgerald

Stage 4

Cycling between anger, sorrow, restraint, hope, disillusionment, faith, numbness, peace, hysteria. The Chinese were right to make 4 the unlucky number.

Strength

I wish I could turn things upside down so that it didn't have to be this way. "God has a plan for everyone." But I refuse to believe that yours only has 6-10 months left. This is when I want to stop believing in Wikipedia.

Night is the morning's Canvas
Larceny - legacy -
Death, but our rapt attention
To Immortality.

Am I living it right?

Cause I wonder sometimes about the outcome of a still verdictless life. Since I was in elementary school there has always been this notion in the back of my mind telling me that I'd always be that one chick everyone said was "most likely to (fill in blank with something amazing)", and end up jobless, alone with a mangy cat, and spiritually lifeless. Does anybody sell some sort of injection where my body will create massive transmissions of some sort of hormone that gives humans their so-called "soul"?

Secret Handshake

tryna play it cool. it's supposed to get easier, you know, the whole leaving thing. sure, i could always find someone else to play street fighter & nhl hits with. and maybe to cook for. i could argue with anyone over music in the car. and there must be some other freak besides yourself who obsesses over obscure facts about obscure places. and i know just as well that you could easily replace me too.

well, i guess that's what makes you and me, us- and the rest of the human population, human: not doing what we know we could do, and doing what we thought we couldn't do. why? for ourselves, for each other, for the sake of concept? i'd like to think that we both do for ourselves, but i might be able to accept that we actually do for each other. sometimes. maybe just on odd numbered days. oh and holidays. like kwanzaa or groundhog's.

tip of my tongue

baby ry, you can be as almost-gay as you want. you still fine.
ok but who do you remind me of! seriously.

jessseeca.tumblr.com

“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.

A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave.

A soul mate’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, and make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life.”

-E. Gilbert

...Comes Great Responsibility

"you have this uncanny ability to inadvertently give guys the wrong idea"
-jv

I feel like Peter Parker waking up looking sexy as hell and having sticky stuff shooting out of his wrists. Minus the sexy, add the trying-not-to-get-tangled-up-in-my-own-web.

Music

A picture is worth a thousand notesTo compose, or to decompose: that is the question:


Though there never was a question mark

Southside Revival

Nothing is true but
Everything is too real
I can't see the sunlight
if I only watch the moon

my eyes. they smoulder
my head to become paste
to glue my senses
that fall victim to that
which makes all else
everything and nothing in one.
or two? moreless than three
but too are these sheets
that held I within and without
above and below,
taken to give and given to take

Field of fucking flowers at my feet of folly
Thine and mine, the time is shy of flight
Venture love of Eve and Wall-E
Be not coy and fish for might

i want lemons and a soap bar;
i want amber without the tar;
i want me and i want you.
i want flotation teleportation;
i want mass communication;
i want in on being out;
i want to befriend the doubt;
i want in with the old, out with the new- yeah.
i want me and i want you;
i want to hear what's there so there is here;
i want side sight of the viewing rear;
i want you, only the you my dear.

It's Been About 3 Years

Looking for "perfect" is looking for disaster. I'm sorry. Thank you

Nothing is more hateful to wisdom than excessive cleverness

The Mysterious Stranger

CHAPTER XI

For as much as a year Satan continued these visits, but at last he came less often, and then for a long time he did not come at all. This always made me lonely and melancholy. I felt that he was losing interest in our tiny world and might at any time abandon his visits entirely. When one day he finally came to me I was overjoyed, but only for a little while. He had come to say good-by, he told me, and for the last time. He had investigations and undertakings in other corners of the universe, he said, that would keep him busy for a longer period than I could wait for his return.

"And you are going away, and will not come back any more?"

"Yes," he said. "We have comraded long together, and it has been pleasant - pleasant for both; but I must go now, and we shall not see each other any more."

"In this life, Satan, but in another? We shall meet in another, surely?"

Then, all tranquilly and soberly, he made the strange answer, "There is no other."

A subtle influence blew upon my spirit from his, bringing with it a vague, dim, but blessed and hopeful feeling that the incredible words might be true - even must be true.

"Have you never suspected this, Theodor?"

"No. How could I? But if it can only be true -"

"It is true."

A gust of thankfulness rose in my breast, but a doubt checked it before it could issue in words, and I said, "But - but - we have seen that future life - seen it in its actuality, and so -"

"It was a vision - it had no existence."

I could hardly breathe for the great hope that was struggling in me. "A vision? - a vi -"

"Life itself is only a vision, a dream."

It was electrical. By God! I had had that very thought a thousand times in my musings!

"Nothing exists; all is a dream. God - man - the world - the sun, the moon, the wilderness of stars - a dream, all a dream; they have no existence. Nothing exists save empty space - and you!"

"I!"

"And you are not you - you have no body, no blood, no bones, you are but a thought. I myself have no existence; I am but a dream - your dream, creature of your imagination. In a moment you will have realized this, then you will banish me from your visions and I shall dissolve into the nothingness out of which you made me . . .

"I am perishing already - I am failing - I am passing away. In a little while you will be alone in shoreless space, to wander its limitless solitudes without friend or comrade forever - for you will remain a thought, the only existent thought, and by your nature inextinguishable, indestructible. But I, your poor servant, have revealed you to yourself and set you free. Dream other dreams, and better!

"Strange! that you should not have suspected years ago - centuries, ages, eons, ago! - for you have existed, companionless, through all the eternities.

Strange, indeed, that you should not have suspected that your universe and its contents were only dreams, visions, fiction! Strange, because they are so frankly and hysterically insane - like all dreams: a God who could make good children as easily as bad, yet preferred to make bad ones; who could have made every one of them happy, yet never made a single happy one; who made them prize their bitter life, yet stingily cut it short; who gave his angels eternal happiness unearned, yet required his other children to earn it; who gave his angels painless lives, yet cursed his other children with biting miseries and maladies of mind and body; who mouths justice and invented hell - mouths mercy and invented hell - mouths Golden Rules, and forgiveness multiplied by seventy times seven, and invented hell; who mouths morals to other people and has none himself; who frowns upon crimes, yet commits them all; who created man without invitation, then tries to shuffle the responsibility for man's acts upon man, instead of honorably placing it where it belongs, upon himself; and finally, with altogether divine obtuseness, invites this poor, abused slave to worship him! . . .

"You perceive, now, that these things are all impossible except in a dream. You perceive that they are pure and puerile insanities, the silly creations of an imagination that is not conscious of its freaks - in a word, that they are a dream, and you the maker of it. The dream-marks are all present; you should have recognized them earlier.

"It is true, that which I have revealed to you; there is no God, no universe, no human race, no earthly life, no heaven, no hell. It is all a dream - a grotesque and foolish dream. Nothing exists but you. And you are but a thought - a vagrant thought, a useless thought, a homeless thought, wandering forlorn among the empty eternities!"

He vanished, and left me appalled; for I knew, and realized, that all he had said was true.

---

-Mark Twain

Good Marriage

How am I supposed to look at love in the same light? Here I was, feeling sorry for married couples that were broken or lacking in passion, so grateful that I had so many examples of powerful, everlasting love in my life. But if I had been right all along, that would change everything I thought I knew about love: the devotion, the sex, the sacrifices, the fuel to keep passions alive. It was kinda like that moment where I found out that my favorite salad was just as unhealthy as the artery clogging burgers I loathed. Except much worse. For the past year I've thought to myself that I could probably never get married. Now it's that I don't want to get married.

"Children begin by loving their parents; after a time they judge them; rarely, if ever, do they forgive them."- Oscar Wilde

Cause It's Probably Worth it

I felt a nameless dread. Well, there probably is a long German name for it, like Geschpooklichkeit or something, but I don’t speak German. Anyway, it’s a dread that nobody knows the name for, like those little square plastic gizmos that close your bread bags. I don’t know the name for those either.

"If you're gonna be dumb, know why you're being dumb"

Ryan Nguyen Remy Pham

these are the homeboys ryan and remy. such sweethearts

Goot Question

"why do you refuse to update your firefox!?"

Disagree. Not Always..

"Contrary to what people say, distance is not for the fearful, it’s for the bold. It’s for those who are willing to spend a lot of time alone in exchange for a little time with the one they love. It’s for those knowing a good thing when they see it, even if they don’t see it nearly enough."

12%- a week from expiring and will take whatever will take them.
27%- like the idea of having someone far away. high schoolers especially enjoy saying "my bf goes to _ _HS" or "the University of ____"
of this, 6% met on a cruise or family vacation or some sort of camp
44%- cowards. don't like change. need floaties cause they don't think they can tread
17%- unlucky. know a good thing when they see it, even if they don't see it nearly enough.

lemme know if i'm wrong.

Wait for your nod

well it's time to begin as the summer sets in
its the scene you set for new lovers


and old

Helvetica

we love restrictions. we need restrictions. the more restrictions we have, the happier we are. we can't function without restrictions.

go bruins

Bageeeeeeeeeeeeeeel

monday: chicken caesar wrap
tuesday: chicken caesar wrap
wednesday: chicken caesar wrap
thursday: this is a bit ridiculous. ima do something new. parfait
friday: nah fuck that, i need my chicken caesar wrap

Nick Ingram: So party hardy Thursday?
Emily Tatas: How bout you hardly party?

<3

la voz suave del mar
volver a respirar
la lluvia que caera
sobre este cuerpo and mojara
la flor que crece en mi
y volver a reir

Inelastic Collision

dat kinetic energy.



I'm not sure if it's better to know that things could be a lot worse, or that things couldn't possibly get any worse.

Black April in 3 days

I wouldn't be here if it weren't for that terrible day. I'd be tan, have hairy legs, and ride a motorcycle.

Forever and ever

you cant tell me this doesn't make you feel all gushy inside!
and tuxedo mask...mmmMmMmMm dreamy.

Bloggeritis

Causes:
over-abuse of cryptic blogging
Symptoms/long-term effects:
relating two very distant subjects in a retarded way, thinking at the time that it was so clever; not being able to understand blogs written in the past; loss of the ability to express oneself like a normal human being; skin discoloration, especially blue
Treatment:
get a real fucking journal

Come save me Dre! I need a doctor :(

1:48 AM

Baby girl's here!

Thought Bubbles

pop pop pop pop pop

come back to meeeeeeee

Portal 2

If only I had that gun. I'd be able to slip in an out of different places. Kinda like splitting my body in two. I'd be in summer and winter forever

Newton's Third

At a comfortable light speed walk. But I still got no direction, not making any tracks. Gotta hear those feet pounding if I wanna make the earth move with a greater equal and opposite force.

Electric Sheep

All those moments will be lost in time; like tears in rain.

thought the storm was over but the rain never even came

Hideaki Akaiwa

http://www.badassoftheweek.com/akaiwa.html

Another old japanese man who is hard to get over

Dear Jin,

I have no idea what it's like to be you. I never really did. But you're always on my mind and when I do pray, you're there too. You think we have this sort of awkward, silent friendship. I wish you knew that I am probably the most genuine in silence, when my brain doesn't stop trying to keep my mouth moving to heartless words. That the quiet air that hangs between us when I see you is filled with all my love for you. That I look up to you. That every part of me believes that you're going to do good for this world.

Thanks buddy

DHS

Easily lost. Easily stolen. Like a phone. When you're not paying attention. Or wasted.

Good Gravy

LA zoo is so depressing.

hahahahahah

Dear Samille,

you really are girl

Day before final getaway

i may not do that amazingly on my final tomorrow, but it was more than worth it. goodstinkinnight!

Most people wish for wings

i wish for roots

Single File Please

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Nice is sexy

In recent decades, a revolution has taken place in primatology. It had been thought that sexual behavior among Old World primates (the kinds that live in big social groups, like baboons or macaques) followed a "linear access" model: if a single female was in heat, the highest-ranking male would claim her. And if two females were in heat, males number one and two would mate with them, and so on. The mating patterns were assumed to arise exclusively from the outcome of male-male competition; the females passively wound up with whomever the competition allotted them.

The revolution was the discovery of "female choice," the wildly radical notion that females had some say in the matter. Maybe this had something to do with there having been a transition, such that the best primatologists around were female, and with their looking at the behavior of their animals without that linear-access bias. What was obvious was that some females didn't just passively wind up mating with whichever hunk strutted forward. Being half the size of males in many of these species, females couldn't convince a male they didn't favor to get lost by beating on him.

But they sure could fail to cooperate. Maybe a female wouldn't stand still when the male tried to mate. Maybe, when pursued by a male, she would repeatedly walk right past the male's worst rival, forcing the two into tense interactions. And with any luck, those two male rivals would get so haired out with each other that they would collapse into fighting, giving the female the opportunity to sneak off to the bushes and mate with the guy she is really interested in (a phenomenon called stolen copulations, as well as other, unprintable terms, by primatologists).

But if the female has a choice, who does she choose? Who does attract her to the bushes? The answer, at least among baboons, is stunning: the nice guy. Maybe it is a male with whom she has a "friendship," or a mutual grooming relationship. Maybe he carries her kid to safety when predators are around. Maybe he is the father of that kid. But basically, he is a male who is now favored because of the quality of the relationship he has worked out with her over time- not because he has won some fight with another male.

(...)And even more extraordinary, genetic studies of paternity have shown that in some species, male primates who bypass overt male-male competition and instead covertly copulate in the bushes do pretty well for themselves in the task of passing on copies of their genes. By the coldly calculating bottom line of evolution, this niceness business is not just some foolish sentimentality. it's a successful strategy.

So let your average, callow primate get all crazed and libidinous over how someone looks or smells. For the monkey who actually cares about how he treats someone, the evolutionary payoff is at least as great. This is pleasing news on a proximal level, even for a nonhuman primate, the most erogenous organ can be the mind. Or the heart. And this is pleasing news on an ultimate level as well, for all of us who have been tempted to jettison our kindergarten lessons about being nice and sharing in favor of sad adult jadedness about looking out for number one. Maybe that notoriously asymmetric safe Leo Durocher was wrong with that business about nice guys finishing last.

-Robert M. Sapolsky

500 days of summer

I used to defend her. But now..

Tight Grip

Someone once told me, the more chalk, the tighter the grip. The tighter the grip, the more blisters. The more blisters, the harder the callus. The harder the callus, the less pain. So I tried letting go of the bar for a second to put on these new grips someone gave me. But in the end, I went back to using chalked hands. They're not pretty, but I still can't let go.

Moooooo-ve over, Mr. Governator

man, imagine the cheese udder on that thang.

Fruit Ninjas of Mt. Fuji

ok so maybe we're not the best at jumping.
but they were definitely the sweetest, coolest, most adorable high school students evarrrrr.
sreyrath, serina, mike (anthony..whoever he feels like being), bradley, vivian, ramone, ezequiel, martin <3

Spooky Couch

See What They Don't