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christmasonthemoon:

Currently watching the majestic, once in a lifetime astronomical event known as the Transit of Penis

(via radicalclavicle)

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for prosperity

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itsnotcontagiousiswear:

DEAR LORD WHAT HAVE I DONE

(via killallcars)

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christmasonthemoon:

One last breath passes your lips and your brain begins to shut down, neurons splashing random images across your field of vision, a birthday party, an argument, making love to someone you once cared about, a long hot afternoon spent alone, regrets and missed opportunities. The lines smudge and the picture darkens as you feel your mind falling within itself, dropping through an endless black pit until a glow warms you from beneath. You shriek in horror as you realize that you are falling into a churning vortex of fire the width of a galaxy, but your cries become one with the deafening lamentations of a trillion suffering spirits below. As the heat become unbearable and you feel your soul turning to ash, you are enveloped in white light. You awake at a cubicle in an office, in front of a computer. “Hey man,” a TMZ editor says as he stops behind you on his way to the break room. “You better get working on that Shiloh birthday collage, that shit’s gotta be done by three.”

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Last night was a good friend’s stag party. It was at a Medieval banquet thing in London and we had to make fancy dress. After spending ages making my phallic weapon and a beserker helmet in the style of Dr. Doom/MF Doom from memory I had little time to come up with any remaining costume. The placard which I am modelling here says ‘let’s battle’. Some married women at the club after enjoyed it.