ONLY HUMAN
I am under no obligation to make sense to you.
Neil DeGrasse Tyson.  (via 00189)

(Source: curvesincolor)

danagould:

Two years ago, I was performing at The Punchline in San Francisco, and Robin came to the show with our mutual friend, Dan Spencer.
This particular batch of material was the first time I had touched upon my then still-fresh divorce wounds, and big chunks of it were pretty dark. The next day, I got a text from a number I didn’t recognize. Whoever it was had obviously been to the show and knew my number, so I figured they would reveal themselves at some point and save me the embarrassment of asking who they were.
The Mystery Texter asked how I was REALLY doing. “You can’t fool me. Some of those ‘jokes’ aren’t ‘jokes.” By now I knew that whoever this was had been through what I was enduring, as no one else would know to ask, “What time of day is the hardest?”
He wanted to know how my kids were handling it, all the while assuring me that the storm, as bleak as it was, would one day pass and that I was not, as I was then convinced, a terrible father for visiting a broken home upon my children.
I am not rewriting this story in retrospect to make it dramatic. I did not know who I was texting with. Finally, my phone blipped, and I saw, in a little green square, “Okay, pal. You got my number. Call me. I’ve been there. You’re going to be okay. - Robin.”
That is what you call a human being.

danagould:

Two years ago, I was performing at The Punchline in San Francisco, and Robin came to the show with our mutual friend, Dan Spencer.

This particular batch of material was the first time I had touched upon my then still-fresh divorce wounds, and big chunks of it were pretty dark. The next day, I got a text from a number I didn’t recognize. Whoever it was had obviously been to the show and knew my number, so I figured they would reveal themselves at some point and save me the embarrassment of asking who they were.

The Mystery Texter asked how I was REALLY doing. “You can’t fool me. Some of those ‘jokes’ aren’t ‘jokes.” By now I knew that whoever this was had been through what I was enduring, as no one else would know to ask, “What time of day is the hardest?”

He wanted to know how my kids were handling it, all the while assuring me that the storm, as bleak as it was, would one day pass and that I was not, as I was then convinced, a terrible father for visiting a broken home upon my children.

I am not rewriting this story in retrospect to make it dramatic. I did not know who I was texting with. Finally, my phone blipped, and I saw, in a little green square, “Okay, pal. You got my number. Call me. I’ve been there. You’re going to be okay. - Robin.”

That is what you call a human being.

It is with great sadness that I must decline your enticing offer to work for you for free. I know that boxing matches in Las Vegas are extremely low-budget affairs, especially ones with Floyd ‘Money’ Mayweather. … My only hope is that you can scrape up a few dollars from this grassroots event at the MGM Grand to put yourself back in the black. If that happens, you might consider using some of that money to compensate people [for] doing the thing they are professionally trained to do.

fuckyeahsexanddrugs:

this is literally what happens when a young adult starts working full time

(Source: himynameistade)

Are you a writer ?

neil-gaiman:

Mostly I’m a should be writing more-er.

The No Rest For The Wicked covers next to their homages.

mulerone:

Hulk is tired of your shit

(Source: pipeschapman)

This place feels so empty without you to fill it.
Evidence of our weekend speckles interior and exterior
scattered far and vulnerable
or huddled together for protection
     (like dishes in the sink),
bracing for the inevitable tidying up
and the proof of our time together being washed away
but held in such fragile sway in gray matter.

Oh, but I don’t think there can be gray when it comes to you.
All is bursting with life and technicolor
vibrant and varied and alive
and all of it matters;
especially the matter that makes up you.
I wonder, when we change states,
if I’ll recognize you—
if my atoms will recognize your atoms
and bind together to make new life:
to create some new physical thing
after proof of us is gone.

THE COMING OF SHATNER
by Tyler B. Ruff

THE COMING OF SHATNER

by Tyler B. Ruff


America is the wealthiest nation on Earth, but its people are mainly poor, and poor Americans are urged to hate themselves. Every other nation has folk traditions of men who were poor but extremely wise and virtuous, and therefore more estimable than anyone with power and gold. No such tales are told by American poor. They mock themselves and glorify their betters.
Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse Five
(via human-voices)

(Source: corgiwhisperer)