vulcansausage:

generalgemini-booknerd:

Alright, these are kinda adorable…

OH MY GOD SO CUTE 

This is brilliant.

(Source: seraphica, via goodstuffhappenedtoday)

vh1:

Same.

indieless:

messily:

brightwalldarkroom:

"There are a handful of shows I ask everyone I talk to about television if they have seen: The Wire, Mad Men, Friday Night Lights. But when I ask them if they’ve watched and loved Friday Night Lights, what I mean is are you my kind of person? Are you all heart? Are you bothered by this 21st-century lack of earnestness, our abundance of irony? Do you wonder how we forgive and coach ourselves to do better? How we can strive again for valor and loyalty and daring and redemption? 
I fear we are defaulting to needless negativity as some kind of social currency. But Friday Night Lights is the most earnest show I’ve ever watched. Not sentimental, however: these characters aren’t perfect. In fact, this show is incredibly astute at allowing humans to have stratums of complexity: to have character and occasionally act without it, and then to live in the mire of their own dumb choices. Do I adore Coach? Yes. Do I think, as Tammy says, he is a molder of men and a husband of fierce devotion? Absolutely. Do I also think he can also be a self-involved, sexist prick who values his career over his wife’s? No question.
Regardless of the scale of the battle, the stakes in Friday Night Lights are rarely phony or contrived. It’s about winning games, sure, but its scope far exceeds that. This is a show that tests and reflects commitment not just on the football field, but back in the locker room. And in Street’s rehab room, and Saracen’s grandmother’s living room, and Julie’s bedroom, and eventually out to Luke’s farm and Tim’s prison and Tammy’s dream in Philadelphia. This commitment is not about obligation, but something more sacred. Duty. The hidden gale that blusters and grows within us and makes us yearn to give someone else exactly what they need.”
—Erica Cantoni on Friday Night Lights (Bright Wall/Dark Room, Issue #14, July 2014)

Texas forever.

i recently re-watched the entire series start to finish and found myself a weepy mess more times than i would like to admit. no matter how many times i watch this show, it still gets to me. 
hands down, my all time favorite show. 

indieless:

messily:

brightwalldarkroom:

"There are a handful of shows I ask everyone I talk to about television if they have seen: The Wire, Mad Men, Friday Night Lights. But when I ask them if they’ve watched and loved Friday Night Lights, what I mean is are you my kind of person? Are you all heart? Are you bothered by this 21st-century lack of earnestness, our abundance of irony? Do you wonder how we forgive and coach ourselves to do better? How we can strive again for valor and loyalty and daring and redemption? 

I fear we are defaulting to needless negativity as some kind of social currency. But Friday Night Lights is the most earnest show I’ve ever watched. Not sentimental, however: these characters aren’t perfect. In fact, this show is incredibly astute at allowing humans to have stratums of complexity: to have character and occasionally act without it, and then to live in the mire of their own dumb choices. Do I adore Coach? Yes. Do I think, as Tammy says, he is a molder of men and a husband of fierce devotion? Absolutely. Do I also think he can also be a self-involved, sexist prick who values his career over his wife’s? No question.

Regardless of the scale of the battle, the stakes in Friday Night Lights are rarely phony or contrived. It’s about winning games, sure, but its scope far exceeds that. This is a show that tests and reflects commitment not just on the football field, but back in the locker room. And in Street’s rehab room, and Saracen’s grandmother’s living room, and Julie’s bedroom, and eventually out to Luke’s farm and Tim’s prison and Tammy’s dream in Philadelphia. This commitment is not about obligation, but something more sacred. Duty. The hidden gale that blusters and grows within us and makes us yearn to give someone else exactly what they need.”

—Erica Cantoni on Friday Night Lights (Bright Wall/Dark Room, Issue #14, July 2014)

Texas forever.

i recently re-watched the entire series start to finish and found myself a weepy mess more times than i would like to admit. no matter how many times i watch this show, it still gets to me. 

hands down, my all time favorite show. 

"Dont ruin a good today by thinking about a bad yesterday. Let it go."

(via flowering-happiness)

(Source: onlinecounsellingcollege, via wineandglitterplease)

Words of Wisdom

wineandglitterplease:

When someone is full of bullshit, they will always be a complete bullshitter. That is it.

They will never, ever, ever change. Don’t hold your breath.

This. Is. Everything. 

breadmaakesyoufat:

this scene is the reason i breathe

Why is Scott pilgrim not on Netflix?

(Source: rosemaryconnelly, via jeffisageek)

nerdist:

I am not even kidding when I say I almost bought this for my house today

I don’t know why you wouldn’t buy this.

nerdist:

I am not even kidding when I say I almost bought this for my house today

I don’t know why you wouldn’t buy this.

When will I learn?

I’m too old for this. Friday after work I hopped on the max for fiery stick open. Drank too much white wine. Cabbed to a coffee shop/bar opening drank a whiskey & water, stuffed my face with guac. Cabbed to a pizza place to meet a friend for a concert and another joined us. Concert was too loud because I’m old now. The four of us went to another bar then Dan dropped faryle off at her car & me at home. We sat & talked in my driveway entirely too long. I proceeded into my house and watched 40 year old Virgin before passing out on my couch around 3.

Woke up at 6 with a solid buzz remaining. Hopped on the bus at 10 to play beer pong for babies. Day drank. Emailed back and forth with a guy a friend is trying to set me up with, bad idea. Fell asleep on the bus home. Twice. Slept from 6-10 and 12-9.

Drove to Taco Bell for breakfast and cannot leave my couch now. I can’t live this life.

You know what sucks about being short? My feet don’t reach the ground. Ever.

You know what sucks about being short? My feet don’t reach the ground. Ever.

Welp.

Welp.

(Source: ladiesagainsthumanity)