BROHEMIA

(via jeremydavies)

This is how I feel every fucking morning. It never stops. If I’m lucky and I wake up earlier than nine, by noon the haze and atrophy of sleep has worn off and you’d never tell. But, those first few hours of laying in bed watching 30 Rock and getting up to shit and shower and shave are monotonously agonizing. The worst is being torn between a) wasting the day by killing all your time playing Kingdom of Loathing and scouring Tumblr and b) actually really wanting to get outside and run those errands like stopping by the IRS office to fix your tax issues that have been hovering over you like a black cloud since ‘08 and maybe doing laundry because, where did my couch disappear to? 

This is my life. Working 40 hours a week at a job I hate to pay rent for a house I can’t even motivate myself to clean. It’s not even that messy. I’m gonna watch all of season one of Archer now.

harlandspinks:

thedailywhat:

Zach Anner Update of the Day: When last we left Zach he was thanking John Mayer and anxiously awaiting the realization of his dream to be Oprah’s latest pet project. Not one to just sit around and wait, Zach grabbed a camera and recorded an unsolicited mini-pilot for his proposed travel show.

Meanwhile, is Oprah rigging the contest in favor of cookie-cutter advice show wannabe “Dr. Phyllis”? Maybe! So vote for Zach!

[zachanner.]

yeah! vote for zach!

rattyrattyratrat: Kate Moss, Johnny Depp and Iggy Pop.

What? I mean, I get it. Celebrities hang out with each other all the time, but, this just seems crazy. 

I want to know the story Iggy is telling. Celebrities have to have the best stories.

(via bloodonblood)

See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. I was living like this for a good three years before I moved the hell out of that tar-pit town. I was filthy, derailed, without a care in the world, undisciplined. I hated it. I hate it more now that I wasted so much time.

That kind of life still has it’s appeal. To not have anything tying you down, to be free. But it’s just an illusion that I’ve only recently come to realize. Free isn’t living like a homeless person, drunk and high and stupid. Free is having the ability to do what you want and still take a bath every day without the worry of where or who you’re going to be sleeping with next .

I can feel that life just out of reach. I’m not used to living with a purpose. I’m rusty. I need practice. I need a shoulder. I need a friend, a girlfriend. Maybe even a wife. I still don’t know what I need. But, I need it soon.

So, it’s been a while since I posted anything. Kind of lost direction there for a minute. I still don’t know what I’m talking about on here. I feel like this is more of a way to deal with growing up and moving on from the way I thought I wanted to live and was living me life a year ago. It’s therapy.

I keep seeing friends and friends-of-friends doing this thing called “growing up”, quitting drinking, smoking and getting married and having kids. Adorable kids. And they’re happy. I think I’ve been deprived of being actually happy for so long that I thought people didn’t look like this. Anywhere. I legitimately thought everyone was depressed and frantic and over “it”. What ever “it” was.

Being surrounded by those kinds of people in that kind of town does a number on how you perceive reality. It makes reality unreal when, in actuality, the unreal is what’s real. Everyone is just so backwards, they have no idea what they really want. That guy in the photo up there, I know him. He’s a great guy, married, a father, happy. He knows who he is, what he wants. You can tell by the look in his eyes. I want that. I want to be ready and able and content.

not to go off on another rant about how it’s easy to fall in love with any girl who shows the slightest bit of interest in you, but, yeah…

i’m ranting because that sort of thing hardly ever happens to a guy. since forever ago, men have always been the ones asking and initiating conversations with women. and for obvious reasons; if you didn’t tap as much cavewoman ass as possible, your species would completely die out. in this day and age i feel like we don’t really need to rely on our animalistic instincts and natural selection to have relations with a lady. victorian era courtship rituals were like careers. women learned the arts and music to entertain future suitors from birth and whoever she married got all of her money and property. after doing all that for god knows how long, you were lucky enough if you became tolerably fond of eachother. great. not even any hot corsette and powdery wig sex on the honey-moon.

seriously. men have never been the ones getting whacked over the head with a big stick and dragged into a cave to be taken advantage of. there are obvious obstacles involved in trying to take advantage of an unconscious man, i get it. i’m trying to prove a point here. what i’m getting at is that i’m fucking tired of it. i’m not the only one, either. friends complain to me with just as much fervor and sigh inducing revelations as i do. pretty much all of modern human history has put pressure for a man to be, well, manly and it’s crushing us skinny, blog and music nerds who aren’t interested in keg stands or being completely fit or even worried about having a degree in business so we can get that twelve dollar haircut every week! we don’t need to procreate with someone strong and that smart for the sake of the race anymore. we can fall in love now. i know there are people out there that just want the surface of someone. but the majority of people want to be loved, to be able to relate to someone, to be with someone who doesn’t make you want to push them out of that new condo the two of you just moved into. we’re a bunch of boys in man suits trying our hardest to live up to the expectations of what thousands of years of society have set up.  

at work i’m constantly talking and interacting with people so it gets easier to be friendly and flirty with woman, but it almost always feels one-sided. i’m doing all the heavy lifting trying to get to know these girls, trying to get past that first awkward, “so, uh, what are you doing later? you wanna… do… something?” it’s excruciating. i’ve never met a girl that’s done that to me. that straight picks up her woman balls and goes for it. “let’s grab a beer when you’re off work. yeah?”

hell the fuck yeah. are you kidding? that’d make my day. just once. and it baffles me that it doesn’t happen. don’t get me wrong. it’s not like i’ve never asked a girl out. i’ve gone out with several girls who it either didn’t work out with or who i’m just friends with now. which is great. i don’t need to marry every girl i go out with. i’m just noting that i’ve never been asked out by a girl. i wish that taboo would die out. and i’m not asking for things like sadie hawkins dances when you’re in high school, either. creating events making it mandatory for a girl to ask a guy out is just embarrassing and patronizing. like when you’re dad taught you how to swim when you were a kid, so he pushed your ass in the pool when weren’t paying attention. you never wanted to swim again, right? you got out, wearing those ridiculous blow-up wings and over-sized goggles thinking, “you fucking asshole”.

i could be completely wrong. maybe those girls who have the courage or that i don’t give a shit attitude about dating and courtship and blah, blah don’t ask dudes that complain about girls asking guys out if they want to grab a beer sometime. maybe i haven’t met or happened upon one of these mythical creatures. they’re like a pegasus unicorn. or cthulhu.

what’s even worse is that femme gay guys are totally okay with overtly flirting and eye fucking you if they think you’re cute. it’s flattering until you start thinking about what they’re thinking and it always end with, “if they were a hot woman without a penis, i’d get it”. with more and more men feeling inadequate because of reality t.v. shows like that bullshit with bret michaels and his twelve whores following him around and the abomination that is jersey shore becoming more commonplace, it’d do a woman good to eye fuck the shit out of some guy she thought was cute. and not when she’s drunk. hell, you don’t even have to do that. just say what you want. woman play games even if they say they don’t. they do. all of them. even subconsciously. 

so, stop. 

say what you’re thinking. do what you’re feeling. help us out. honestly, we don’t get it. it’s like all women are playing opposite day, but they didn’t tell the entire population of the opposite sex about it. if you don’t we’re all gonna end up like michael cera when he got ‘guiddo’d out’. and that’s when we’ll know the end has come. 

bohemea:Chloe Sevigny by Inez & Vinoodh

wife fucking hard. or go the fuck home.

where are all the chloe sevigny’s of the world? like, the ones living in my neighborhood? where are you san francisco chloe?

(via bleachedblack)

hair. envy. 

having good hair is so fucking stressful for a guy.

(via bohemianlikeyou)

we get i already. the 60’s were great. hippies changed everything. but, fuck. drop it already. hippies now are either homeless or stoned deaf idiots. as in they’re always stoned yet someone manage to maintain a drug habit and feed their dogs in bandanas.

so shut the fuck up about how you relate to edie sedgwick and hall and oates songs. you know nothing about the 60’s or those people and the great thing about life is CHANGE. so do something different, asshole.

(via disneyfuckyeah)

when i was living in chico, during the summer, the only thing i’d ever wear were an old pair of jorts, v-neck shirts and toms. it was hot a hell every day and i couldn’t bare to wear anything more. all my friends started refering to me as “hipster peter pan”. whatever. i didn’t really care and it actually gave me a good idea for halloween. so, i dressed in the same jorts, a green v-neck, fedora and light green tights with my toms and was “peter pan if he came back from neverland, got depressed because wendy was old and haggard, developed a drinking problem and constantly talked shit on the lost boys. why? because fuck them, that’s why.” 

needless to say, i was pretty proud of my idea.

(via hipcumon)

it’s pretty awesome when you’re minding your business, walking downtown to a bar and a couple of cute girls walk by and smile, say “hello” then turn to each other and say how cute you are within ear shot. thanks, chicks.

i swear to god every western european person can sing like this and every band they’re in is catchy and good.

nedhepburn:

i’ve been too busy, drunk, tired or sick while watching dexter to blog about anything. god. this week has been awful. i’ve got some ideas in the works. soon.

dr. dog - the rabbit, the bat and the reindeer

just because i’ve been downloading all my old music and this album was on constant rotation with a friend of mine a few months before i moved here. he was one of my closest friends and we’d always come visit san francisco together every chance we got. i miss those trips. he’d always talk about how he was gonna move down here and we’d live together and have a party mansion (he’s a mechanical engineer and promised to foot most of the bill. let’s here it for riding coattails). i honestly didn’t think i’d be here before him. i mean, i’m a twice over college drop-out who doesn’t have his shit together, who’s money burns holes in his pockets and isn’t smart, at least not in the studying, mathematical, analytical sense. he’s got this girlfriend now who he’s probably gonna follow to some other city that’s not here. i’m getting yoko’d here, man. what’s up with that?

but, this album always makes me feel better about whatever shit is wrong with my life. which is, more often than not, everything. so, feel better with me.

literally just met chris walla.

it’s weird. i’ve never thought of myself as someone who would be star struck. and honestly, it’s only happened a few times where i’ve felt giddy around someone ‘famous’. it only lasts during the realization of who this person is, then sort of fades. until i start talking to them.

being star struck is so weird. it’s understandable to a degree; this is someone you’ve grown up listening to or seeing and idolizing or admiring. for me i pretty much grew up listening to death cab in my later high school years. you could say they shaped at least a little of who i am and are now stamped onto a lot of memories from that period of my life. i respect them even despite their not so good albums (plans, i’m talking about you).

people don’t meet their ‘heroes’ every day. and he’s not even ben gibbard, the leader of the band. he’s just a normal dude doing his job, recording and mixing, producing music and just happens to be in this hugely popular band. plus, he totally knows zooey. i mean, i’ve had friends that do this exact same thing. friends who tour and work for death cab. people i know and hung out with on a regular basis. and maybe that’s why i am still reeling from the encounter. because he’s not the celebrity that we’re all accustomed to seeing on t.v. and in magazines. he’s not fake or being followed around by paparazzi like lady gaga or kanye or something. he’s like you or me or anyone else, just living his life, doing something he loves to do and it really feels like i could do that. and i get excited about things. like, i could be a chris walla celebrity. not some coke-head, ass-hat like lindsay lohen. you know? it seems possible and not so narcissistic to want to be famous like that. or is it still?