animalstalkinginallcaps:

STAY DOWN, ASSHOLE!

YOU CAME TO THE WRONG BEACH, LITTERBUG.

THAT DROPPING THE WRAPPER SHIT MIGHT FLY WHEREVER YOU CAME FROM BUT THIS IS THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST. PICK IT UP.

AND YOU’D BETTER BE PLANNING TO RECYCLE THAT BOTTLE, YOU HEAR ME?

I BET YOU DON’T EVEN COMPOST.

SCUMBAG.

Yesterday I was head-butted by a cow. It threw me into the middle of the road and left lots of stiff hairs on my shirt. I’ve since decided to eat as much beef as possible when I get to Bratislava.

ckck:

Seems like IKEA are really shaking things up this year. In addition to the previously announced TV set, they’re also going to release a digital camera made of cardboard called Knäppa (“Snap”). It’ll hold 40 photographs at a time and plugs directly into your USB port. While it’s not the prettiest camera the world has ever seen, I do love the idea of a screen-less digital camera that brings people back to the wait-and-see days of film.

I already know I will be a sucker for this.

(via fuckyeahbookarts)

Yesterday I went to the neighborhood park after work to sit outdoors and do some reading after having been cooped up in an office all day long, starting at a computer screen.

The park near me is pretty sweet. It has tons of benches, a huge fountain in the center that shoots water 20 feet up into the air, and a speaker system that sometimes blasts popular Indian music from the 1960’s. Pretty awesome, right? I go there from time to time to escape the psychotic, smog-filled streets and breathe in some relatively fresh air.

Anyway, yesterday I was sitting on a bench that made up one side of a square formation of benches. After a few minutes, an old man sat on the bench opposite mine. I smiled a hello to him and he settled down onto the bench. As soon as his bum hit the seat, he started clapping his hands together in rhythmic time. A little weird, yes, but I resolved to ignore it. I didn’t really feel like getting involved. 

After 15 seconds or so of clapping, the man spoke. “My clapping must be bothering you,” he declared. It wasn’t even a question. He knew it to be true.

“No, it’s fine. You’re not bothering me,” I said. “You can keep clapping.” So he did. For about two more minutes, until his hands got tired. Then he just sat there for another ten minutes or so. I continued to determinedly read my book, and after awhile he got up without a word and walked away.

It was totally weird and inexplicable. Was the guy lonely? Did he want to get my attention so we could chat? Was he just crazy? Was the clapping part of some weird anti-arthritis exercise routine? Did he just feel so elated at that moment that he wanted to express it through a rhythmic meeting of his palms?

I had no answers to these questions. But I had to smile to myself at that moment. His weird actions had actually made me feel like I was closer to home. I could so easily picture something like that happening to me in a park in San Francisco. We are not so different from one another after all.

fuckyeahbookarts:

Book of Kanye’s Tweets by Chris Carfolite 

This is pretty tweet. HA.