1. basquavita:

    this sandwich came to me, like an ethereal vision during the 9th k of my first full length 10k practice run. one short trip to whole foods and like 20 bucks later, there it was in the flesh. ready for saucy carnage. I guess the takeaways here are dream big and gorge in solitude.

    I call this my 10k Santa Fe

    order is very important here so pay attention

    1. bread w mayo*
    2. tomato slices w salt and pepper
    3. smear of salsa fresca
    4. leaf lettuce
    5. dry rubbed, thick cut bacon fried crispy
    6. avocado slices drizzled with lemon juice
    7. a few squiggles of Valentina’s
    8. garlic lemon chilli smoked salt marinated, pan-grilled free range chicken breast**
    9. bread with mayo and mustard

    * two slices in the same toaster slot, then toasted side faces IN to the sandwich. this gives it structural integrity against the sauce and tomatoes and no jagged edges against mouth roof

    ** smash the breast down so it’s all the same thickness, put it in a Tupperware and rub with olive oil, smoked salt, juice of 1/4 lemon, chilli powder, minced garlic. marinate for like 5 min then throw it in a skillet on med-high, with all the garlic bits. grill til it’s nicely browned, flip, repeat. then put it down to low til it’s cooked through.

  2. abi-pop:

    Reese & Cyrus sitting on our towns tree~! ^-^

    Reese: Kelsey Cosplays
    Cyrus: Abipop Cosplay

    (via fuckyeah-animalcrossing)

  3. this is how I feel right now

    (Source: twitter.com)

  4. infinitecringe:

    Aphex Twin’s cat

    (via transascendant)

  5. twitter.com

    They always sleep touch­ing paws.

    (Source: keikozakky, via takikomigohan)

  6. Richard T. Walker

    in defiance of being here, 2013

    (Source: vwaker, via heavydrug)


  7. "

    I never had bipolar disorder at all.

    I discontinued all psychiatric treatment after my ECT. I did that thing you’re never supposed to do and lied to my doctors. I stopped seeing them. I felt just fine for years. In 2009, my symptoms flared up again. I went to Johns Hopkins with no medical records and presented all of my symptoms, without mentioning my previous psychiatric history.

    I was given a full neurological workup, and after six months and several MRIs I was diagnosed with relapse-remitting multiple sclerosis, a disease that easily encompasses all my symptoms.

    I disclosed my psychiatric history to my neurologist and my new GP after I received my MS diagnosis. They were both sad, apologetic for their profession, and both told me this isn’t that uncommon.

    Let me say that again, please: They both told me this isn’t that uncommon.


    It Happened to Me: I Had Electroshock Therapy

    for my growing collection of articles about women who were misdiagnosed

  8. strugglingtobeheard:


    Ethiopian opal geode

    Egg rock. Scramble the eggg sunnyside uup

    this is so cool!

    (Source: opalauctions.com, via bryst)

  10. ASPCA X Vans cat shoeeeez


  13. There is no spoon


    Ok so, before I get started on *unpopular opinion time* I would like to say that I don’t have a problem with people who like “spoon theory” or feel like it speaks to them or who identify as spoonies. I don’t. But I do have a problem with the pervasiveness of “spoon theory” and “spoonies” in chronic illness culture.

    "Spoon theory" is not a theory. If it’s anything, it’s an extended metaphor. This really bugs me. A spoon theory would be something like "chronic illness is often exacerbated by lack of access to proper utensils." But really "spoon theory" is an anecdote because that’s what it actually is, an anecdote that blew up and took over the internet, or at least the sectors of the internet populated by young women with chronic illnesses.

    Why do I hate it so much? Idk. The word “spoonie” is a huge sticking point for me. It sounds so infantilizing and passive. Babies eat with spoons; adults, not so much. Like it can’t even be “spooner” which would at least suggest some agency. Look at the poor widdle spoonie. I just can’t.

    Also my experience with chronic illness has nothing to do with receiving some arbitrary amount of energy for the day and then choosing what to spend it on and there being some sort of rational correspondence between these things. It’s more like, I have no idea how much energy I will have at any given moment or how much energy (besides “a lot”) any given activity will take out of me. Like it’s all governed by a random number generator whose workings are totally opaque to me.

    So it’s a combination of the infantilizing lack of agency inherent in the term “spoonie” along with the false claim that the experience of chronic illness can be rendered legible to outsiders (much less to the self!) via a clumsy-ass metaphor that bugs me. Also that “spoon theory” was an anecdote meant to help a non-chronically ill friend “understand” what the experience of chronic illness was like, and I guess it’s kind of disappointing that that’s what chronically ill ppl themselves have taken on as an identifier.

    If I were to explain having chronic illness to someone who doesn’t have it I would say something like “imagine that you died. Except nobody noticed you died so they keep asking you why you’re such a bummer all the time. Duh it’s cause you’re dead.”

    I guess most of the time I’m just full of deep existential rage and that doesn’t seem to fit in with spoonie culture beyond “everyone needs to vent” and “it’s ok to be sad” and I don’t want this defining experience of my life to be governed by these tired cliches.

    But whatever, chacun a son gout.

  14. groans:

    worlds most poignant vending machine

    (via transascendant)

  15. maptacular:

    It’s Officially Tornado Season: These Animations Show the Parts of the U.S. Most Likely to Get Hit

    North America has entered the beginning of peak tornado season, and the weather certainly reflects that. Today a major spring storm is barreling over the nation’s center, and forecasters are warning to watch out for possible damaging winds, large hail, and tornadoes.

    So perhaps now’s the time to ask the age-old question: If you’re terrified of twisters, where’s the absolute worst place in the U.S. to live?

    Read more at The Atlantic Cities