i like my coffee how i like my men. rich 

and black

and strong

and three times in the morning before i do anything

#it’s idris elba i’m talking about idris elba

(via redhotfool)

yo, coffee is a fascinating crop with a truly remarkable history. I don’t get why more people don’t see this?

You know nobody’s ever going to see the stuff, but you have to write through it. You’re just trying to satisfy some grim, barren mandate. There’s probably a German word for that.

John Jeremiah Sullivan, on false starts (via theparisreview)

Yep. #8thweek

(via juchicago)

man am I feelin’ this

(via juchicago)

When New York completed the Erie Canal in 1825, Boston grew so envious it stopped referring to its rival by name. (Massachusetts Governor Levi Lincoln would only call it “a neighboring state.”) When Boston responded by building the country’s first true railroad system, it was New York’s turn to worry about keeping pace with its “enterprising neighbors.”

This feels a little like crashing and burning, but at least I got some extensions. This quarter just needs to hurry the fuck up and finish.

may you never be neighbors with frat boys of the chillax bro, smoke a j with me variety

What kind of woman doesn’t own an axe?

(via falulatonks)

One of the most disturbing scenes in Disney’s “Aladdin” is when Jasmine must pretend to seduce Jaffar in order to distract him. The clothing that the animators chose to put her in, complete with the shackles, are all a white, colonial wet dream. And she’s the only Disney princess who’s had to use her body in this way to distract someone. Then there’s this scene in “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” where Esmeralda is shimmying her hips and breasts and basically ends with a pole-dance sequence: a far cry from the delicate waltzes and pirouettes that Belle and Aurora dance. The simultaneous fascination and revulsion that Whiteness has for WOC bodies are unmistakably evident in Disney’s posturing of Jasmine and Esmeralda.

The Jasmine Diaries Part II: ‘Exotic’ is not a Compliment

(via pakiswagger)

The pornified colonialist, orientalist [white/Western] male gaze. (via the-uncensored-she)

(via embellissement)

been feeling wrong/tired/out of it/weird all week. I don’t think I’m depressed because I’m excited and clear about a lot of things going on. I don’t think I’m anxious because I took a biology test where I barely knew 80% of the material at minimum, and didn’t cry once.

but my focus is shot. I can’t get ahead on anything. I’m fine in class and on campus but I get home and want to burrow into my pillow and not think for the rest of the night. I can’t concentrate and I have so much left to do these coming weeks.

help and send positive vibes please.

Hyde Park, Feb 2014

(via legallybored)

Map of Paris (1937)

Map of Paris (1937) 

this will be the title of a short story I will never write 

(via thatkindofwoman)


How much you need to make to buy a house in the Bay Area.

New York? $66,167.27 
Los Angeles? $72,126.90 
Chicago? $32.388.90

And on and onResearch by HSH.

(via futurejournalismproject)



We Are All Made of Stars

into this

(via anguys)


Lupita Nyong’o and Michael B. Jordan being flawless behind the scenes at the Vanity Fair Hollywood Issue photoshoot.

(via zoekravitzgf)

this weekend I had a lovely conversation with a friend while another friend looked at some weird, gay art (I mean that literally) and then we ate barbecue and drank cocktails and discussed tattoos and valentines and loneliness in a restaurant that is just shy of ~cheesy as hell. well they didn’t card me, so, it was great. this weekend my roommate delivered homemade cheese blintzes to my room and cried in the kitchen while I kicked out four people who came to our dining room table to talk about Yiddish. this weekend I talked to an artist who works with archives and successfully contacted a source through twitter. this weekend I drank three mochas. this weekend I ate Mexican food with two of my favorite people and we drank sweet hard cider out of glasses of ice and someone turned 24 and I wanted to learn Spanish so badly. we drove up to rogers park and danced to Jamaican oldies, a white cover band from Minnesota that was actually quite good and then a Kingston harmonica legend from the sixties came on stage and he was so joyful and entertaining. and we danced. and our landlady was there. this weekend I danced more bachata and tribal and it was joyous all over again. this weekend I was glad to be in chicago.