Mediocrity At Its Finest

Aug 30, 2014

(Source: morgrana)

Aug 30, 2014

Chris Messina at the Venice Film Festival panel/premiere for Manglehorn. All rights belong to the photographers.

Aug 30, 2014

Some pics of Chris Messina at the premiere of Manglehorn at the Venice Film Festival. All rights belong to the photographers.

Aug 30, 2014

justgrazeit:

jsmapdi:

justgrazeit:

gettin’ my drank on. mmmmm

Malt beverages do not count as dranks.

i know it’s 4.5% alcohol this feels like a waste of money.

That 4.5% is working. Your inhibitions have already been lowered.

(Source: grelca, via grelca)

Aug 28, 2014

cutecurator:

super-who-locked-in:

angle-of-depression:

nothingcorporate:

opinions on abortions are kinda like nipples

everyone has them but women’s are a little bit more relevant 

But all you ever see are men’s

Oh shit

So accurate.

(Source: uncooler)

Aug 28, 2014

saevitas:

be an atheist, be a christian, be buddhist, be straight, be gay, be cisgender, be transgender, be non-binary, be carnivore, be vegan, be whatever the hell you want to be but don’t be an asshole is this so hard to understand

(via razzledazzlewaffle)

Aug 28, 2014

Coworkers Of The Year, November 2006.

(Source: dj-novak, via cutecurator)

Aug 27, 2014

My ❤️❤️❤️ her. #BabySelfiesForLife http://instagram.com/p/sOHWGoSWJ-/

My ❤️❤️❤️ her. #BabySelfiesForLife

Aug 27, 2014

Mediocrity At Its Finest

gloriagilbertpatch said: Prompt: "That...was not the word I meant to say." Go nuts ;)

jsmapdi:

He’s taken off his jacket, but it’s still too hot in the cramped, economy class cabin, and he can feel the pinpricks of sweat on his brow. It’s dark and most of the passengers are sleeping, but they’re both bathed in the glow of Mindy’s laptop as she writes - well, HE writes - this masterpiece of an apology in an email to Cliff.

She types slow, and keeps miskeying things, so he has to repeat himself a few times as he dictates to her all these raw emotions under the guise of being helpful. She stares at the screen and he stares at her, looking away as she finishes each sentence, afraid to meet her eyes.

"Okay, say that last part again?" She asks him, fingers ready.

He says it slowly, but not carefully. “You know you’re right for someone when she forces you to be the best version of yourself.”

She’s tapping the keys as her brain processes the words, not the sentence, until she hits the word he didn’t realize he had said.

"She?"

Shit. Shit, shit.

"That, uh, that was not the word I meant to say. They. I meant they." It’s unconvincing with the stammering.

Mindy smiles curiously and turns to him. His eyes dart from hers to the screen and back, willing her to go back to the typing.

"Who is this she, Danny? She sounds wonderful. Do I know her?" There’s mirth in her voice and in her eyes, at least until he stops looking away. Then something clicks and her smile falters. "Danny?"

His mouth opens, and in his head he’s got a snappy, deceptive comeback, and he just needs to make the snarky remark that will wipe that look of dawning realization from her face. He swallows, but his mouth is too dry and the words are caught in a thick lump, and his fingers are going to snap if he grips the armrest any tighter. Fight or flight kicks in.

"I need some water." It’s high pitched and strangled, but it’s an actual sentence, so he considers it a success as he makes his way to the back. There’s an array of bottles and cans in the fluorescent, greenish lighting of the galley, and he paws them and looks with unfocused eyes. Tonic water, that’s what he needs to wash back the rising bile in his throat. A shudder of turbulence rocks the plane and his knees feel like they’re going to buckle. He grabs the counter and hangs on even after the shaking stops.

"Hey."

Danny looks up and Mindy is there, coming at him, and he blinks once to convince himself it’s not a mirage, she really is wrapping her arms around his neck, and then his eyes close as she presses her lips to his. He’s not even sure he kissed her back when she pulls away, and her eyes are questioning, and even though he isn’t sure what the answer is, he feels his face pulling into a grin. Then she smiles too, and then neither of them do, it’s just a desperate flurry of hands and mouths and soft sighs, and he drops the water on the floor, but it’s okay. She’s quenched his thirst.

gloriagilbertpatch

Aug 27, 2014