iammyss:

there are amazing pieces of poetry and prose saved in people’s drafts, pieces that people are to afraid to share. I’ve also noticed that the pieces that people are too afraid to share are always the best ones.

atencio:

Late night fake joint rolling party for the next sketch. (Taken with Instagram at Universal Studios Backlot)

what was Judy blind or something *smh*

the-more-i-arty:

Some Avengers themed cocktail recipes I played around with.

Also drink responsibly…

Now with added Phil

Rolling Stone magazine - January 1995

Long after Green Day played Woodstock ‘94 - a performance that scored the band mass admiration - singer Billie Joe Armstrong received a letter from his mother. “It was a hate letter,” says Armstrong. It seems Mrs. Armstrong ordered the concert on pay per view and had settle in to watch the event with a friend. That’s when the melee occurred. Onstage, the Green Day set culminated in a titanic mud fight; Armstrong yanked down his pants; and bassist Mike Dirnt had his front teeth smashed when he was tackled by a security guard who thought he was a fan storming the stage. Finally a mud covered Armstrong asked the fans to shout “shut the fuck up,” and the band exited. “She said that I was disrespectful and indecent,” says Armstrong, “and that if my father was alive, he would be ashamed of me.”

myfirstfeaturefilm:

I’m already incensed and then I read this…

Honestly this is one of my biggest fears while riding my bike and or jogging outside alongside passing cars—particularly when I visit “home” (Kennesaw, Georgia).  I see my fear is not illogical at all.

White women fear they will be raped (assuming they fear much while maneuvering this world) and black women typically fear they will be manhandled like a black man, assaulted, raped, ignored, abused…etc.

So sorry for you.  Cry. I know I would.

dreams-from-my-father:

lleno-de-tierra:

bevin:

Tonight I was hit with a hand full of eggs and huge rock on my back and called “Nigger” by a white guy in the backseat of a dark blue truck as I was riding my bike on Westheimer and Jeanetta. They drove too fast for me to get the license plate number. I had to get a cop to drive me home. This night makes me wonder how blacks did it back in the day, and why the community is looking the way it is now. I am trying not to cry, but I am in physical pain from the rock and not understanding why I deserved this.

uugh

i’m sorry this happened to you sweetie, you can cry, cry if you need to…

OMG noooooo !!!