(Source: pmaalllday, via fuckyeahloldemort)

Didier Drogba the King of Chelsea TV [2/3]

(via onelifeoneloveoneclub)

nickhughry:

Hear that? That’s Sergeant Donny Donowitz. You might know him better by his nickname.

(Source: johnsturturro, via pwnator)

(Source: iraffiruse, via pwnator)

madridista987:

Benzema: “Hi, hello, hola, salam! At Clairefontaine to prepare the EURO with Philippe Mexès and Jeremy Menez! Thank you all for your support. Benz”

(via onelifeoneloveoneclub)

onelifeoneloveoneclub:

This long hug between JT, Frankie, and Didi is all the more special and meaningful now because of what they knew and what we as fans were only speculating. They knew it was his last game as a Chelsea player. 

My heart is heavy and full of love now knowing that hug was more than just a “we did it” hug. It was a hug representing how much love and respect is shared between them. A hug thanking Didier for his 8 years here and for giving us everything he possibly could.

Our three legends holding each other after their last game played together.

It was special before, but now with context, it’s unequivocally priceless.

aamukherjee:

expose-the-light:

Ingredients of life

Illustrations of Chemical compounds by Rex

An ultra-cool set of posters! Dopamine is the one I am most familiar with and it’s a very interesting chemical not only because it causes our emotional responses, but because it controls the ‘reward system’ of our brain which in turn motivates us to repeat actions that we enjoy (even if they are not good for our overall health, as is the case with chemical addiction).

But rather than dwelling too much on the more serious effects of these chemical responses, focus more on the greatness of the posters!

(via iflondonburns)

thedailywhat:

So This Happened of the Day: Narcissist chef Anthony Bourdain swung by the Great GoogaMooga Festival in Brooklyn over the weekend for a little Q&A — at which a little girl asked Bourdain how he’d cook a unicorn:

He would roast the loin, grill the legs, braise the forequarter and use the horn to pick your teeth with after the meal. For the record, unicorn marrow is delicious, he says.

Well, she asked. Not sure which is more creepy, though: Bourdain’s answer or a little girl who wants to cook a unicorn.

[blastr]

iflondonburns:

fuckjerry:

The Record’s Eye.

Neat!

totalfilm:

Django Unchained Footage Revealed: Cannes Reaction

Cannes was treated to a sneak peak of Quentin Tarantino’s tale of an escaped slave seeking both revenge and his stolen wife tonight, and judging by the clips we saw, Django Unchained is going to be… well, off the chain…

thedailywhat:

Kickass Cover of the Day: If you listen to one cover of Gotye’s chart-topper “Somebody That I Used To Know” today (other than this one, this one, this one, this one, or this one), make it fun.’s lovely rendition of the song for BBC Radio One, with Paramore’s Hayley Williams singing the Kimbra part.

Ironically, all these covers of “Somebody” have elevated the song to the number one spot on the iTunes charts, displacing fun.’s big hit, “We Are Young.”

[nme]

el-santo-iker:

John Terry in goal vs Reading October 14th, 2006

(via onelifeoneloveoneclub)

the-krusty-crew:

As seen on Facebook. (posted by Homestead Survival)

A sweet lesson on patience. 

A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and glassware.

‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’

‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive
through downtown?’

‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..

‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.

‘Nothing,’ I said

‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.

‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.

‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

(Source: mishalmoorebloggyblog, via pwnator)

skelebird:

“Rant”

This one I’m really super proud of.

It’s like an alternate book cover for Rant by Chuck Palahniuk.

My all-time favorite book of his.

Acrylics and cut out drawings.

(via palahniukisgod)

thatfunnyblog:

Wanna LAUGH OUT LOUD?! Follow this blog.