i did it all for the nookie.

• 2012-03-18

  so, tumblr. i mean cool i like that you can share dope shit with your homies but 50 fucking posts in a row of “cool shit” that isn’t written or crafted from you makes tumblr annoying. i don’t mind a few cool pictures of 2PAC or a dope ass quote but i like to see sick ass shit posted by homies that they put their time into not different fucking angles of a marijuana leaf. 

  whatever im annoyed. at least im keeping it real eh?

  and they probably look right past my rant because they drowned it with 28 pictures of reallly awesomeeee SHIT.

• 2012-02-27

  (via theresnodeath)

  Source: sundriedraisins

• 2012-02-24

  

  Buhahaha

• →

  

• 2012-02-17

  

  thissoundgoesaround:

  Livings Legends

  (via thisisaymee)

  Source: thissoundgoesaround

• 2012-02-11

  

  (via thisisaymee)

• 2012-02-10

  Paulo Coelho your my hero.

  To heal my wounds, I need to be brave enough to face them

• 2012-02-07

  

  She loooooves Arizona

• →

  

  ohholyson:

  
  L’amour de Jeanne Ney, Georg Wilhelm Pabst, 1927.

  Source: colettesaintyves

• 2012-01-30

  

  wannadosomethingmajor:

  bob marley on how to love a woman
  
  “You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She’s not perfect - you aren’t either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break - her heart. So don’t hurt her, don’t change her, don’t analyze and don’t expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she’s not there.”

  - Bob Marley

  (via thisisaymee)

• 2012-01-23

  muhgirl

• 2012-01-22

  A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.

  — Charles Bukowski, The People Look Like Flowers at Last (via philphys)

  (via ohholyson)

  Source: philphys