I’d hug you, but, see, this is the radio…and I don’t hug. But maybe a hand hug the next time I see you.
Okay, so I just want to point out how much I love working at our art building’s print lab.
Even though I only work, like, four hours a week, this is a job that I never really dread going to. Even at 9am on a Thursday. This morning its snowing and generally really shitty out, and my boss emailed me to say he wasn’t planning on coming in because it was a safety risk he didn’t really care to take and that my coming in or not was totally up to me. Under any other circumstance, working any other job, I feel like I would’ve been like, “Sweet, no work!” But not with this job. I pretty quickly just shot back an email saying I’d be perfectly fine showing up and working—even if no one showed up (which, no one has since today the art building is basically shut down…but that’d take too long to explain so I won’t).
So I’ve been sitting here listening to my favourite radio station (89.3 the Current [yes, I feel the need to mention it by name because I’m not very prideful about much, but I’m extremely prideful of that radio station and the general music that they spin out]).
I’m in a wickedly good mood and it really fucking rad.
Independent living is..
Independent living is bursting into tears because there is a spider across your room and YOU AIN’ FACIN’ THAT FEAR. NO SIRREE.
My Wife’s Fight With Breast Cancer
one of the saddest and most beautiful photo essays I’ve ever seen
I don’t think I could ever be this open photographically showing my wife slowly dying. I couldn’t do it, but this is beautiful.
my fucking heart.