It’s Friday night

…and into the night she goes

are you kidding me

Mad Men
oheye asked:
ME. I WILL ASK QUESTION. What is the sickest you've ever been, physically?

OY, IT’S AN OI. <3 Apologies for being a dummy that posts HEY Y’ALL LET’S TALK RIGHT NOW and then disappears, buh. 

Both my mother and brother have had scary health problems, which generally colors my understanding of what ‘serious illness’ means. But you didn’t ask if I had been seriously sick, you asked what the sickest was. So a few options: I have never been vaccinated (this makes international travel a joy), and I’ve had both measles and mumps as a child. But though I remember lolling around in mom’s big bed, I don’t remember the sheer being-sick-ness of it, so that shouldn’t count. There was a week in Ireland where I pretended to have swineflu in order to mope inside, but that surely doesn’t count as being-sick-ness. I guess, my Freshman year, I got the real flu so bad that I could not get out of my bed to leave my room. I just stayed inside and downed Theraflu™ by the gallon. I’ve never been that sick before or since. Mostly just the standard twice-yearly cold.

skintightwizard asked:
What was the most recent dream that you remember?

Augh, I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you. I fell asleep right after I posted my ‘Ask me anything!’ post. x_x

I almost never remember my dreams! Of those few that I do recall, there was one, about a month or so back, that knocked me back a bit. (Apologies, a bit of an over-share coming.)  In the first part, my father (played by a John Hamm + Alec Baldwin fellow who looks nothing like my actual bald skinnybones dad) and I stayed at a hotel, where there were two driving plot factors: first, the workers of the hotel had a control which could automatically remove the screws from extremely specific parts of the building, which dad and I were trying to escape from even as the workers gleefully monitored and deterred us; second, this bizarro dream-dad was being a menacing, leering mega-creep. Then the dream transitioned into something more clinically surreal where two people I didn’t know were speaking with my gorgeous redhead college room-mate, and at some point she put her feet up. That last bit’s not unusual, except, she was wearing heels, and I remember counting three stiletto spikes instead of the expected bipedal two, and the way her legs bent was like, woah

… let’s all ignore any latent Electra Complex shit going on in that. Apologies if the delay and content of this response make you never want to read my tumblr again. :/

… experiencing, as we all do, those brief calendrical regrets when it is no longer the toddlingly innocent fifth or sixth of a given month but somewhere early in the teens, midway down, and then suddenly it’s the twenty-sixth and the month is going forever, the one and only October you will be given that year, and the false optimism of a new young month is about to begin, like a stock split that without changing any fundamentals makes the price per share look alluringly cheap all over again …
- The Fermata, Nicholson Baker.

If you don’t have room for a mustache-wearing Meryl Streep on your blog, I don’t want to know you.

I can’t believe that people think science carves reality at its joints if there still isn’t a way to transplant my leg hair to my scalp. Imagine the curls. Imagine. 

Matteo Cremonesi.


btw I’ve seen dicks shorter than chris evans’ eyelashes