Creative directors Peter Sedlacik and Zuzu Galova put a unique spin on vacation photos with their fun project Lens Between Us, which consists of snapshots of the couple’s travels that they capture while facing each other at the same time.

(Reblogged from broskvovyledovycaj)
(Reblogged from aeromages)




your life.

What a really great picture.


(Source: lickystickypickyshe)

(Reblogged from petermorwood)


Made this for my boyfriend

(Reblogged from aeromages)
(Reblogged from alangkeith3)
You are personally responsible for becoming more ethical than the society you grew up in.

Eliezer Yudkowsky  (via rampias)

Being a “product of their times” is no excuse. Never let someone off the hook for bigotry. 

(via callingoutbigotry)

(Source: abundance-mine)

(Reblogged from doppioespresso)

Ha.  Good idea.

That last reblog was by 1,000th post.  (Hooray!)

It reminds me of the apple tree at my grandmother’s house, and all the yellow jackets* that would behave exactly that way.  Good memories.  And good apples too.  :-)

[*At least that’s what we called them; I’ve heard them called bees or wasps in other parts of the country.]



This is the one time of year that I love wasps.

Not because the wasps themselves get any nicer. They’re horrid little creatures year round. No, it’s because I have a couple of big apple trees out back, and late August, early September is when the apples start ripening.

Now, if you don’t harvest your own fruit, there are two things you need to know about apples.

The first thing you need to know about apples is that, when apples get ripe, they tend to fall from the tree at the slightest breeze.

I often work late at the office; by the time I get home, there are piles of apples scattered everywhere - and sure enough, the wasps are out in force, gorging themselves on the fruit. When I go to clean up the windfallen apples, the wasps naturally do the “rawr, I’ma fuck you up!” routine for which wasps are known.

The second thing you need to know about apples is that they ferment very rapidly in the late August heat.

So: the wasps try to come at me, but they’re too drunk to fly. They get about an inch off the ground, then faceplant directly into the turf, flip over onto their backs, and lay there, legs twitching in the air as they try in vain to find something to sting.

Perhaps I’m a man of simple pleasures, but I bust up laughing every. single. time.

Fucking wasps.

I tried to reblog this with a witty tag, but Tumblr took it as serious advice:


(Reblogged from petermorwood)



"Fuck off Shaun I am taking a picture."


(Source: stigmartyr762)

(Reblogged from hopeful-melancholy)


Yesterday was interesting. Took a 6 hour trip to Wales to climb Mount Snowdon in order to raise money for hospitals in Gaza. Did a few things like walk through a cloud, (I thought it would be like taking chunks out of candy floss but boy was I wrong) Spoke to a few cows, Trodded on a bunch of rocks and stepped on a bunch of goat poo (I could’ve sworn I noticed human poo too somewhere disguised as animal dump but I’m not stupid.) We made it to the top to get molested by hailstones and find ourselves struggle to breathe from the thickness of the air.

I could barely enjoy the view because I had to watch where I was stepping and avoid the whole, death thing, you know. Climbing a mountain is something everyone needs to do at least once in their life, or twice, or just do what you want I’m not your Dad.

(Reblogged from hopeful-melancholy)