“Who’s This Little Lady? Like She’s Serving… Serving A Pizza.”

All things that have form eventually decay

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1864-1901) standing beside his paintings.

Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull and Madeleine Smith, via.

KIMI RAIKKONEN + LONG HAIR

⟶ for anon

In the afterlife, souls can see how many living people still know you once existed. You, who had lived a fairly normal life, finally saw the count drop to 0 just 200 years after your death. 500 years later, 95% of the Earth’s total population suddenly knows about you.

PREHISTORIC PROTO-MONKEY: I don't need ascorbic acid. From my cells. I eat fruit all the time dude. I'm better than that OTHER PREHISTORIC PROTO-MONKEY: I agree with your lifestyle and will fuck you raw to prove it GUY LOOKING FOR THE NORTHWEST PASSAGE 36,530,125 YEARS LATER: ow oof my shitty british teeth

In Aziraphale’s bookshop. There’s a little area of Books by one of his favourite authors, and a hat that one of the customers left behind and will be back for one day… #goodomens #terrypratchett

Sometimes writing is like having an enormous lake in your head, and you want to get it out of your head and into a proper place for a lake so other people can come and go swimming and ride jet skis and stuff, except all you have to move the lake is a teaspoon. So you’re just sitting there frantically flinging water out of the lake with your teaspoon and telling people, “Guys, this lake is going to be so cool when it’s done,” but it will never be done. There is so much lake.

we’re all going to die

Farewell online privacy