1. gugugutwrench:


    Seattle, Washington. 2014


    Hey here’s Josefina and Sprocket and my tiny house.

    I somehow only just realized that I was standing on top of the RV.

  2. Pretty please?

  3. gracewinterphoto:

    Seattle, Washington. 2014


    Hey here’s Josefina and Sprocket and my tiny house.

  4. zach-snyd:

    Low Charge - Philly - 3/22/14


    (via occultclassics)

  5. (Source: abloodymess)


  6. Billie Holiday - Strange Fruit

    75 years ago, on this date, Billie Holiday recorded a song that Time Magazine would call song of the century: Strange Fruit, a song written about a lynching in the South. 

    Holiday first performed the song at Cafe Society in 1939. She said that singing it made her fearful of retaliation but, because its imagery reminded her of her father, she continued to sing the piece making it a regular part of her live performances. Because of the poignancy of the song, Josephson drew up some rules: Holiday would close with it; the waiters would stop all service in advance; the room would be in darkness except for a spotlight on Holiday’s face; and there would be no encore. During the musical introduction, Holiday would stand with her eyes closed, as if she were evoking a prayer.

    Written by an anarcho-commie Jew that my cat is named for.

    (Source: satindolls, via lamenelsom)


  7. Not to put too fine a point on it,
    Say I’m the only bee in your bonnet
    Make a little birdhouse in your soul

    (Source: officialdaddyegbert, via msfackitall)

  8. (Source: queeblo, via dvvglvs)

  9. zombiesenelghetto:

    The Clash: Paul Simonon photo by Janet Macoska 1979

    (via callhersavage)

  11. cabinporn:

    A-frame in Gruň, Czech Republic.

    Contributed by Vojtech Bruzek.


  12. pop-snacking:

    Fugazi - Do You Like Me

    (via lecollecteur)

  14. This tree looks like it’s flipping a buncha birds, right? Right? (at Oxbow Park)


  15. "Waxing poetic about Chief Keef’s brilliance while ignoring the depressing realities the rapper’s music reflects is a luxury only a clueless, disconnected snob can afford. While you arrogant clowns absolve yourselves of any accountability by arguing against the moralizing of art, misguided kids are trying to live out the lyrics to songs you and your grad school homies party to. While you celebrate Gucci Mane’s reckless abandon as the ultimate display of counter-culture cool, the artist known as Radric Davis is spiraling downwards, in and out of jail, and in my estimation, in need of serious therapy. Magically, the average garden-variety trap rapper becomes your personal virtual tour guide through Anyhood, USA wherein you can live your wildest “ghetto” fantasies vicariously, “fuck as many bitches” as you want, make it rain on the baddest chicks, hold heat, sip a little lean (which you’ve probably already tried with your best friend Ethan and some free-spirited blonde named Dakota one boring Saturday night)…all while finally experiencing the liberating sensation of dropping the N word at will. One can only dream, right? And then it’s back to your regular life as an espresso-sipping, greasy combed-over-haired, trust-fund dick head who’d piss your pants if you ever found yourself face to face with the very same hood characters you get hard daydreaming about."

    Why Hipsters Need to Stop Writing About Hip Hop Culture


    (via amisouennemis)