It makes sense, of course, that when you’ve only got one single roll of 36 exposures in your camera, you run out of things to shoot in an hour, whereas when you desperately need to finish off a roll of film so you can send it for developing and scanning before you leave for the states, you’re hardpressed for subjects over a span of 2 weeks (or more, but who’s counting).

It also thoroughly amuses me that the moment I screwed on my red filter (I’m shooting b/w right now) onto the wide-angle lens (it’s a 20mm), I found myself wandering up and down because there was just too much filling the frame, and the moment I found a nice composition that I liked, I realised the dark clouds were swiftly moving in.

Well, hello Murphy. I sure haven’t missed you.

Oh MAN is this the coolest shirt ever or what!!! Fuckity fuckity fuck.

I’m not sure if they’ll appreciate the moves we seem to have perfected for at least one of their entire songs, but I’m sure it’s gonna be an awesome show. Tickets on sale from 1st December. (via culturepush)

If anyone decides that they absolutely can’t live with themselves without getting me a Christmas present, and has no idea what to get me, here’s a clue. Any of the following teeshirts will do:

mmmh… Delicious, Lil’ Soap, They’re, Their, There (which is just perfect for all my pangsaiglish whingeing), She Doesn’t Even Realize for the emo-nemo in me, Meat is Murder. Tasty, Tasty Murder because I’m cruel that way, or Permafrost Pollution.

Prizes, of course, only go to the one who manages to convince threadless to put Emo Bear back in print, and get me one.

Email or text me if you wanna get anything for sizes and stuff or in case there actually exist more than 1 of you generous, loving souls out there who want to get me something come yuletide season and now we don’t want repeats happening, do we?

Merry Christmas in advance! I can feel the Christmas cheer filling the air, and thank god I’ll be outta here by the time I want to stab my own ears.

My girlfriend is perving over bouncy butts on tv! And bouncy neh-nehs.

Grrrrr.

I can’t be the only person who’s dreading Girls Out Loud.

You know it exists when you’re at a party where everyone’s standing around reminiscing about their college days, and a lot of sentences start with, “You know.. 20 years ago…..”

Especially since A) you’re still in college, and B) the only phrase you can append to “20 years ago…” is “…I was born.”

Stunning homeproducts. Thank god my kitchen’s already kitted out. And I just realised what porcorosso was using as his decanters for the two mystery wines last night. (via evil sin)

…to porcorosso. opener of fantastic bottles of wine, and cooker of fantastic shepherds pie.

when i’m sober-er (i.e. not after over 17 bottles between under 20 people) i will re-write this properly. i can barely even type - bunny is a good spellchecker. :)

someone please stop me from blogging while inebriated in future.

Edit: Hungover. Uncle, it’s all your fault. How am I supposed to study now!

I feel like retiring my camera and just drooling at these pictures from now on. (via clubsnap)