Step into my web.

Walking barefoot in the mud during a thunderstorm when the sky is yellow and glowy. 

Going to the movies. I Love You, Man. Painfully awkward and hilarious, and the least misogynistic of recent guy-love Apatowish fare. (That is to say, the female characters are allowed to be somewhat funny and not stuck up.  Some of the time.) I just love going to the movies. I love previews. And whispering. I love the disenchanted teenagers that sell me popcorn. I love the brazen capitalism of it all. Hell yeah, America!

Grilled cheese with tomato.

Cleaning your room. Seriously. I just did this and my blues were instantly busted. Just don't become a junkie. It's a slippery slope, friends. You don't want to wind up clutching the lysol and muttering to yourself. 

I am not hugely into fashion, but this editorial in French Vogue is so wacked out I couldn't stop staring. It's so cute and weird and stuff.

1 comment:

  1. Oh man, I cracked up at "I Love You, Man." Did you see Forgetting Sarah Marshall? That's my favorite of the Apatow film crop.