Fall is coming, motherfuckers. It’s being brought to us one leaf at a time by this baby puppy, and I’m afraid I’m going to “awwww!” myself to death before it’s over. A noble end, as far as I’m concerned.
(via poppychild)
This buys an impossible amount in Reno. Thirteen bottomless pasta bowls, or thirty good beers, or sixty cheap beers, or two nights at a hotel, or twenty souvenir t-shirts, or ten sixty-four ounce margaritas. There is not much to do in Reno, but doing it is very easy, certainly.
(Source: sexpigeon)
My mayor’s house, which might account for the current 59% approval rating.
"Text and email are polite invitations to a conversation. They happen at the speed and leisure of both the sender and the receiver. In stark contrast, when you get a phone call, it’s almost always a convenient time for the caller and a bad time for the recipient, who I refer to as the “victim” because I insist on accuracy. My philosophy is that every phone conversation has a loser."
— Scott Adams: Phone (via marco)
(via marco)
