bikini season

The sun is shining and everyone looks so pretty and handsome. Let's talk fashion.


If I won the lottery, I'd open a museum.


I want to go swimming.


The Victorian cape thing from The Hours of the Women of Leisure makes me think you need to get your André Leon Talley on.



You need this hat.

Number 22 is all you.

Nerd Boyfriend.

From fashion onto a grab-bag. Newspaper Comics.


Yet another Scandinavian photo archive.


Secret chambers and hiding places.


Adorable sculpted beasties.


Alex Ross is the original gangsta of drawing superheroes.

Deluge Level Catastrophe

It was so hot and humid and I had on too many clothes when I got on the Red Line: it was dark and cold by the time we went above ground (dark, like check-your-watch dark); it was dropping buckets three stops later. It was raining so hard that I couldn't see: ten steps out the door of the Addison Station, and I could not possibly get wetter in a full bathtub. It was great.
The jelly is from the tree of life project that aggregates information about and images illustrating biodiversity and arranges them chronologically. If I lived in the ocean, I would be a Mer-Nerd.


If you ever need samples of a wide variety of birdsongs as well as the birds' Latin, English and Finnish names, go here.


Pictures from a long time ago of all over the place:


A Dream to Have in Heaven:


It's gross to say fun, but I wish Anna Gulmann would do something.


I could see you driving a smiling, olive car.


I would use this to paint me a big ol' peanut.


These are gorgeous.


as are these


Carny Lingo


John White's Black Chicago


Whitney Box

zen eccentrics

I was flattered today. I decided to eat well and to do it up. I picked out some cheeses, olives, dried figs, almonds, a nice table wine, fancy jam and what not. As I was fishing for my wallet, the cashier asked me why weren't friends, just-like-that: : "why aren't we friends?" I was flattered.
Hanuman's been in my dreams, but I love this adorable Ganesh. Make sure yours face the door to greet you when you arrive, because it is good.


So much loveliness from French children's books (books written for children which most likely also belonged to children but were not written by them).


Josephine Baker.


I'm not even going to post a proper picture for this one. I stumbled across the non-descript front page for this site through some Hungarian link-aggregator picdump site, and chuckled to my jaded self. Some guy's collection of stewardess uniforms? It's going to be either nerdy or creepy or both, and then I clicked on the gallery, ready to judge. I think I may have actually said, 'oh my god. it's full of stars.'


I wonder what your troupe would look like.


So that's what it means when Mars is in retrograde: I like to play a retrograde inversion of happy birthday on my music box while I watch this.


Zen Eccentrics. Hands down, the best two word poem of the day.


This is the entrance to an adult bookstore in River North.


Copley's painting of Watson and the Shark is a link to a list of unusual deaths.

mmmmh… bla.

I can't believe I'd never seen this footage. I mean, these are Famous & Recognizable Jazz Artists. I went looking for Hank Jones footage, because I missed the news that he had died. I know 15 minutes is an awful commitment in this day and age, but sit right down and watch the shit out of this. Bird drops a solo at about four-and-a-half in that reminds you why he's Charlie Parker. It's those sparse interstitial moments that charm me most: Bird lighting a cigarette before they even say cut warms my heart.




It's been a weird week of circuitous tunneling; speaking of which, Denver Airport apparently has lots going on underneath it. It looks fine to me, outside of how it's totally a swastika.

Searching for Extreme Music from Africa, I found this odd abandoned archive: Africa & Omega.


Swedish Subways look like this; Chicago'd have it tagged-all-to-hell and reeking of piss in about a minute (I'm not saying; I'm just saying).


I liked this picture, and then I looked at the album in which it was.


This was the first comic I ever bought: I would tell you what it's about, but it says "Spider Men and Monkey People pit Turok against Andar in MORTAL COMBAT" on the cover which prominently features two fighting Native Americans engaged before an on-looking throng of aforementioned men and people; Andar's the little one.


Bless The Algebra Mothers.


Jupiter is lovely.


I could watch these for a good while (Maybe too good of a while? Maybe too good of a while.).



From Swedish subways to Japanese bike storage.


Opium


Angora Mint hipped me to these.

This is called Old Man Fondling The Exposed Breast of a Young Woman Who's Taking Coins From His Purse.. Yeah.


Aaaaaand, Giant Squid for a garnish.

zero is an odd number

I'm working on sounds for our army (hunkering in a bunker this Winter will be a boon to productivity this year: it is not to be frittered away, consarn it!): please, enlist.



I think it's funny that I never made the connection between French New Wave



and French New Wave (I accented different words when I said it in my head.).



These remind me of the warfare series you were toying with.


I wish she made jellyfishes.



I've bought more than one album for the cover alone.



William Blake archive.


Apparently, Alcoholics Anonymous used to publish comics.


Russian Hobbits.


Embroideries.

A delightful bestiary.


London Guarantee and Accident Company Building.

Things that move.