I met a traveller from way the hell off
who said: two gigantic, fucked-up rock legs
be out there in the middle of goddamn nowhere
right next to them covered in shit some kinda big face
looked pretty pissed & upset & whatnot
all damn covered in words
"yo ozymandias here, this my shit"
"better than your shit, get fucked buddy"
not much else tho, just sand
shitloads of sand all over the place
This is True Love We’re Makin’ - Capcom vs. SNK 2
People will stare. Make it worth their while → Fausto Puglisi | F/W ‘12-‘13
He is taking a course on Marxist ideology.
He says, “The only real solution is to smash the system and start again.”
His thumb is caressing the most bourgeois copy of the communist manifesto that I have ever seen,
He bought it at Barnes and Noble for twenty-nine U.S. American dollars and ninety-nine cents,
Its hard cover shows a dark man with a scarved face
Waving a gigantic red flag against a fictional smoky background.
The matte finish is fucking gorgeous.
He wants to be congratulated for paying Harvard sixty thousand dollars
To teach him that the system is unfair.
He pulls his iPhone from his imported Marino wool jacket, and leaves.
What people can’t possibly tell from the footage on TV
Is that the water cannon feels like getting whipped with a burning switch.
Where I come from, they fill it with sewer water and hope that they get you in the face with your mouth open
So that the hepatitis will keep you in bed for the next protest.
What you can’t tell from Harvard square,
Is that when the tear gas bursts from nowhere to everywhere all at once,
It scrapes your insides like barbed wire, sawing at your lungs.
Tear gas is such a benign term for it,
If you have never breathed it in you would think it was a nostalgic experience.
What you can’t learn at Barnes and Noble,
Is that when they rush you, survival is to run,
I am never as fast as when the police are chasing me.
I know what happens to women in the holding cells down there and yet…
We still do it.
I inherited my communist manifesto,
It has no cover—
Because my mother ripped it off when she hid it in the dust jacket of “Don Quixote”
The day before the soldiers destroyed her apartment,
Looking for subversive propaganda.
She burned the cover, could not bring herself to burn the pages,
Hoped to God the soldiers couldn’t read,
They never found it.
So she was not killed for it, but her body bore the scars of the torture chamber,
For wanting her children to have a better life than she did,
Don’t talk to me about revolution.
I know what the price of smashing the system really is, my people already tried that.
The price of uprise is paid in blood,
And not Harvard blood.
The blood that ran through the streets of Santiago,
The blood thrown alive from Argentine helicopters into the Atlantic.
It is easy to say “revolution” from the comfort of a New England library.
It is easy to offer flesh to the cause,
When it is not yours to give.
The Qanba Q4 is the most delicious gaming peripheral I have ever used it’s so great. I’m playing ALL THE FIGHTGAMES
chubby birds make me so happy
look at this precious thing oh my goodness
they are a bit cranky but they are just too cute
don’t talk shit though or it will end you
this has been a chubby bird appreciation post
Coco Ichibanya (Curry House Coco)
I’ve always wanted to try this curry because I have seen famous people post it on sns more than once. I ordered the creamy mushroom omelette curry and Eug had the tonkatsu omelette.
SO GOOD. It was the best japanese curry I can remember, and the rice is cooked so perfectly. Although the tonkatsu was good (light, crunchy, juicy, not too oily), mine was just a tiny bit more amazing.
WE IN THERE