XimenA

de estas niñatas siglo21 que cantan como si estuvieran hechas de jello-shots, desfallecidas de voz y espíritu hasta que se te desnudan y tracatá... aymimadre, están cubiertas de tatuajes de hojas de marihuana en las nalgas y bart simpson en los senos, ésta, con su carita de yo-no-fui se tira covers peligrosas cuyas insalvables vallas salta más o menos bien, por lo menos en estas tres... 

la oyes y dices, pasa, hasta que la ves, con esa carita y dices... no mames... pero bueno... ahí tienen, a la ximena sariñana, casi ximeñoña, ideal para una sesión de "vean, nenes, aprendan de estas canciones, que eso sí era música. venga, pues, a hacer covers". compañía ideal para una escribana aburrida con demasiadas malaideas rondándole el coco.

nah-noo nah-noo do-be-do

we all aRe one fuck-up-step away from suicide, so the floating perhaps-maybe that robin did-IT should not shock. for maybe he just got tired and decided that it was time to go, fua-pa-fuera, on his own terms, sort of because enough-of-the-pressure, that constant one-must-have-it-aLL. that ALL we know that is never enough, even when supposedly you do, have-it-all. even with the plus-on-benefit of sort-of being free with that dangling bonus of the right to pursuit happiness in front of your eyes and mind your lifetime. your lifetime, yours never to initiate nor end. so yeah, there´s always more than ALL and we want it... somewhere else, rushing forward in that slippery whatever, the what´s it all about doomed syndrome of the soul and its "search" as we degenerate and one day, the beauty of flowers is not what it used to be...

anyway, almost thirty years ago, as i walked lost on the avenue of the americas in nyc, feeling like the loneliest person surrounded by strangers in the horrendous dirty little planet that manhattan was (and is), i run into Robin Williams. actually, it was more like i rammed into him, because i am clumsy and as usual, i was walking distracted. he smiled, perhaps expecting me to recognize him, which i did a few steps later (coño, that was mork!). but then, right in front of him, i just kind-of-excused myself and continued walking north, feeling, yes... a bit suicidal. but just a bit, like probably everyone else that walked around me. and a bit is never enough courage to complete the deed. a bitonga perhaps is the right amount...

but i was not a fan then, and never was, really. however, as a young-not-so-acid-me i loved Mork and the frenzy in his blue eyes when he went off in rampages of high-velocity apparently silly humor. it seemed that he owned the world and all of us inside it in those sharp-quick-tongue-twisters of his. so, i guess i had my fifteen seconds of brushing-with-fame when i crossed his path that day and saw his twinkling blue eyes up-close... so there, much more intimacy than most people have in their whole lifetime... with a star. 

and now he is dead, perhaps because he wanted to be it, dead. and so it goes, the perfect ending action to always wanting more, or less, as an answer to the constant quest... so restINpeace, frantic-robin... but i know there´s an oxymoron hiding in that wish...

doBEdo

it nice time of year to be on mars

evghenia is on mars

via tweeter, which is more or less the same... check her out to feel good about the searching human soul, sort of...
because

it nice time of year to be on mars...

enough said

theTouchOFmidaz

now-here-now-where-nowhere

NOWHERE (2009) / central scene / for Pina from Dimitris Papaioannou on Vimeo.

and most definitely check out the 30 min compilatory video in vimeo of Papaioannou´s ouvre, for it is masterful and a gift to the eyes and mind

tÉcniCaDElaSillaVacía:mustBEwornINaSitDownWalk

Bill Domonkos

throughTheseGardens...

EchinaceaSuMMerFlowerShow @ chgo lurie gardens via UGArdener flickr chgo stream

not one regret that mytax$$ went into these gardens, and the rest of the fking gorgeous MiLLPark... secondcity, myass / big shoulders, indeed

Oh-il-mOndO

lunesDEsexO

nenes, os anuncio que es lunesDEsexO, (sexo con o sin de*d*os)

así-que-prepÁrense... que cuando la vida aprieta, arrincona, y todo sucede a borbotones de vahos grises, sopapos rojos y reveces verdes --sin mencionar las traiciones amarillas, los desprecios morados, los escupitajos negros-- a SonoIo no le queda otra alternativa para sentirse viva que encuerarse en este espejo público, abrirse como papaya madura y admirarse en toda su voluptuosidad humanimal, y quererse asíOasao.... solita o acompañada, que total, de todas formas van a hablar.

así que... sigamos... venga, go along and humor me in this freaky summer of love and quiteTHEopposite, whatever that may be... acompáñenme, porque todo o nada puede suceder ahora que estamos solos y sin balas... apartados del mundo y su tracatraca.

a ver...

en @culturaInquieta nos tiran Aprendiendo-a-escribir. ahí nos presentan a Sabina Urraca, autora del blog Sopapo, escritora e ilustradora de la serie "Tus faltas de ortografía hacen llorar al niño dios." 
son ilustradas sugerencias para el buen uso gramatical que se debe aplicar durante educadas sesiones de sexo... porque, ya se sabe, cuando hacemos cochinadas, hay que evitar la vulgaridad. eso... es muy importante... or not. depende del grado de educación, pero sobre todo del grado de pasión... de los comensales.


y en @TheAtlantic, PeterPaul&Mary nos regalan amplia información sobre el fenómeno (because... only recently discovered... eso de querer a muchosAlaveZ, ay) de la cosita que está de moda entre, mayormente, vejetes... como nosotros todos. hunting the unicorn, people... porque el fenómeno del polyamorous swingITbyMEagain está arrasando, dicen en Multiple-lovers-without-jealousy.  

y es que, la verdad, de haber sabido todo esto a tiempo, cuánto sufrimiento nos hubiéramos ahorrado, nosotros ignorantes celososposesivos de antaño... así que eso, a compartir, que nos queda poco, pareciera ser la base de todo esto.. y estoy muy de acuerdo... pues, a-singar-a-singar-que-la-vida-se-va-a-acabar.

ah, y esto.... esto no tiene desperdicio, nenes y sobre todo, mis mamiselitas tuerquitas, nenitas de mi alma, que os quiero tanto. en el Cosmopolitan  magazine (yeah, that one... Helen!) nos han salido con... "28 mind-blowing lesbian sex positions".

qué poquitas, ¿no? el "kinky jockey"has a difficulty level... of 3... eso, and here are the instructions: "Have your partner get on all fours, then straddle her hips. Tug on her hair while you rub your clitoris against her tailbone..." aprendan, mamiselitas de mi alma, que estas cosas tan bien ilustradas no se dan todos los días... pensándolo bien, that must be why so many lesbians are into growing their hair nowadays... esas tembas alocadas must need that mane to do the kinky jockey, ´cause... gotta ride the white pony... 

así que ya saben... arre-arre, ámense-los-muchos-a los otros, y escriban bien, coño, que eso sí es tremendo turn-on... y recuerden, mientras se pasan la lengua, que ... 

lo contrario es un anglicismo, que nada tiene que ver con el lesbianismo. salud.

rideWithSrCocoNut

manifestationsOFminorBlack&white

Minor White, self-portrait

Manifestations of the Spirit
exhibition@getty museum

Minor White at the Getty
@LATimes

orchifragmiEnto

a veces, el silencio es la peor mentira 
(dicen que dijo unamuno)

AynebergouvAktullorLLa

    

bodyREmix

 ... fragments of this gorgeous, daring piece of dance-performance-poetry-in-motion titled Body Remix & Les Variations Goldberg, choreography by Marie Chouinard, performed by the COMPAGNIE MARIE CHOUINARD, have been going around the web as the "weirdest video you´ll ever see". blah, blah, blah... it is a masterpiece of performance, so if you have the time to watch, try to see the whole thing, here. it is about an hour long, but it is truly wonderful. just imagine you went to the ballet, gratis...

orQuiFragmenté

"Wherever does one have one's tea?" she asked with the oddest thrill of excitement in her voice, looking vaguely round and letting herself be drawn on down the grass path, trailing her parasol, turning her head this way and that way, forgetting her tea, wishing to go down there and then down there, remembering orchids and cranes among wild flowers...


 from "Kew Gardens", Virginia Woolf

lAniÑaRepelente

la niña repelente se queja a su amigo/a la gorda del comportamiento de la asquerosa de su hija-muñeca... un asqueroso deleite esta familia sevillanasiglo21... humor español pasaíto de tono... mevoyacagaenlalechequemamaste

layLADYlayCONsaporeDIsale

medusa

@gizmodo livejellyfish

aguaviva del picor entre las piernas 
indecente exhalas tinta calamar
hambriento pulpo tus nalgas tentáculos 
abiertas al sol medusa transparente
del mar aguamala inclemente brisa 
marina embadurnada de arena 
hirviente a la intemperie miles de
cangrejos en tus negros dientes

© om ulloa

retroFotogeek

the handle... 

just about the nicest thing you can give a pair of hands... 

esoooo 

more great retro camera ads 

@geeksugar Vintage Camera Ads