Hrm, not sure I approve of this Vivienne Westwood homeless-inspired collection.

Hrm, not sure I approve of this Vivienne Westwood homeless-inspired collection.

(this post was reblogged from murketing)
ckck:


Abstract, painterly tattoos by Amanda Wachob (of Daredevil Tattoo, NYC).
Gotta say these are pretty damned amazing. I don’t think I could ever get a tattoo because I know I wouldn’t be able to find a design that I wouldn’t get tired of, but these are very alluring. If I ever did get one, it’d have to be something abstract like this, or something very simple and minimalistic.

ckck:

Abstract, painterly tattoos by Amanda Wachob (of Daredevil Tattoo, NYC).

Gotta say these are pretty damned amazing. I don’t think I could ever get a tattoo because I know I wouldn’t be able to find a design that I wouldn’t get tired of, but these are very alluring. If I ever did get one, it’d have to be something abstract like this, or something very simple and minimalistic.

(this post was reblogged from ckck)
(this post was reblogged from murketing)
Nobody had told the Samatenje of Sadjunjira that Carr would be arriving by helicopter, a vehicle known to the mountain people chiefly as an instrument of war, and the noise of the thing as it descended near his compound outraged his entourage. What’s more, the helicopter was cherry red, and in Gorongosi culture red is the color of violence and conflict, so it is strictly forbidden to appear before the Samatenje with any trace of red on one’s person. Then the helicopter touched down on the wrong side of a stream that demarcated the sacred ground of the Samatenje’s domain. And, as the helicopter’s doors opened, a truly astonishing thing happened: a pale, snakelike lizard, of a sort that nobody had seen before, popped out of a hole in the ground right beside it—a ghastly omen. The only thing that could be worse was for someone to touch the creature, and so that’s what happened: a herpetologically inclined member of Carr’s party, delighted by what he recognized to be his first ever sighting of a blind skink, snatched it up to have a closer look. All the Samatenje could say was: Get out of here—go!
“The Monkey and the Fish”, by Philip Gourevitch, The New Yorker, Dec. 21 & 28, 2009, p. 105.
Desaturated Santa.  Not Photoshopped!

Desaturated Santa. Not Photoshopped!

Flowchart: “Where should I eat: Fast food edition” (for Americans).

Flowchart: “Where should I eat: Fast food edition” (for Americans).