"Today a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we are the imagination of ourselves. Here’s Tom with the Weather."
Bill Hicks

Stjepan Hauser and Luka Sulic - Smooth Criminal

“On the night Frank Sinatra won his Oscar, Jerry Lewis tackled him backstage and yelled out, “I’m so proud of you, I’m going to kiss you on the mouth!” Sinatra said, “No, no, don’t kiss me on the mouth!” This moment was caught by a nearby photographer.

-Who the Hell’s in It, Peter Bogdanovich


Le Book


My Heroes

These people are doing something for themselves, their children, their country and the world by not giving up under extreme duress. These photos from the Guardian are my favorite.

A baby joins the demonstrations in Tahrir Square. Photo
Yannis Behrakis/Reuters

Anti-government protesters jog along a street as part of their daily exercises after spending the night in front of the Egyptian parliament. Photo: Emilio Morenatti/AP

Newly-wed anti-government protesters join the demonstration in Tahrir Square Photo: Dylan Martinez/Reuters


This living hand, now warm and capable
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold
And in the icy silence of the tomb,
So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights
That thou wouldst wish thine own heart dry of blood
So in my veins red life might stream again,
And thou be conscience-calmed — see here it is —
I hold it towards you.

John Keats, “This Living Hand”
I know older men in comedy who can barely feed and clean themselves, and they still work. The women, though, they’re all ‘crazy.’ I have a suspicion — and hear me out, because this is a rough one — that the definition of “crazy” in show business is a woman who keeps talking even after no one wants to fuck her anymore.

Tina Fey

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody’s asleep.
I say, I know that you’re there,
so don’t be
then I put him back,
but he’s singing a little
in there, I haven’t quite let him
and we sleep together like
with our
secret pact
and it’s nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don’t
weep, do

Charles Bukowski

image from