gqcyclist

[gqcyclist]

The so-called “alt-right” are neo-Nazis by any other name, and that’s how the media should address them.

[gqcyclist]

Fav if ur #TeamJacket, RT if ur #TeamUmbrella

[gqcyclist]

This glorious post (X) begged for a fitting tribute. Also, I will never let this meme die, even if occasionally I will have to dig out its rotting corpse from the grave where it rests.

[gqcyclist]

Let's Make Fun Of: Anthropologie Furniture

I love to hate Anthropologie furniture. In particular, the way they stage it for their website. There’s this gross fantasy they’ve created of an art student who can afford to spend thousands of dollars on a paint-splattered flea market find. It’s like all their customers are aspiring to be Charlotte in Tiny Furniture (a loft-dwelling trust fund dilettante).

They’ve gone off the deep end with the juxtaposition. You know those fashion editorials every fall where models lasagned in Prada swing around street signs in Red Hook? It’s like that, but on acid. The settings are more deteriorated and the designs are more design-y. It’s like shopping from deep within Fuck Your Noguchi Coffee Table.

If you choose to purchase a piece of Anthropologie furniture, it will only really look right in one of three settings:

1. An alternative gallery space six weeks from opening

2. An urban cabin with faulty electrical wiring

3. A crumbling Southern plantation (soon to be deemed “the new loft” by the NYTimes)

Let’s take a stroll through the Anthropologie furniture section together. What’s for sale today?

Keep reading

[gqcyclist]

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[gqcyclist]

BAHAHAHAHAHA

I heard there is an ‘anarcho-capitalist’ conference in Acapulco called “Anarchapulco” (true story). That whole philosophy sounds ridiculous so I made up some ridiculous session titles.

Sneaking in is not rebellion: why paying your conference fee is crucial to the anarcho-capitalist movement ...

[gqcyclist]

[gqcyclist]

This picture depicts Edith Garrud, a womens’ suffrage jiu-jitsu master. She trained up a 30-woman-strong bodyguard squad who guarded militant suffragist leader Emmeline Pankhurst in the 1910s. They fought police, broke windows, burnt buildings and bombed train stations, all to get the vote.*

And starting today, you can read about their adventures in a new comic series called Suffrajitsu. Thought some of you might want to know. :) 

* = the arson, bombings, and other destruction was explicitly against property only; to my knowledge nobody was ever hurt in those actions

[gqcyclist]

Them: So you're vegan?

Me: Yeah.

Them: But what about protein? I mean, where do vegans get it?

Me: We don't.

Them: What?

Me: Yeah, vegans don't get any protein.

Me: None.

Me: Literally, the only source of protein is from animal products.

Me: Once you cut those out, you're done.

Me: Which, of course, does lead to health issues.

Me: I should be dead or violently ill before the end of the year.

Me: No vegan ever survives more than a year or so.

Me: Because we literally eat no protein.

Them: That's... not true.

Me: And you knew that.

Me: So why did you ask?

[gqcyclist]

…for the record, the stripper cards weren’t appreciated, either.

Me, finding myself caught up in some drams.

Normally, I’m in the “lifes-too-short” school. Not this time:

(pics via @dirtwiretv)

[gqcyclist]

yo, I'm drunk as fuck and I'm still managing, quite comfortably, not to be racist. What's Mel Gibson's excuse?

I like how racists front like being drunk is some kind of reasonable explanation for their racist bullshit actions. It’s like, yo, I’m drunk all the fucking time, I manage to not do racist shit.

[gqcyclist]

SLULU VOODOO — “The Draft”

[gqcyclist]

So last night I got drunk and played Skyrim

I’m still torn on whether this is the greatest thing I’ve ever done or the stupidest. 

[gqcyclist]

I was planning on lying in a puddle of my own tears anyway

“You see," began Christopher with a long sigh. "It's like sleeping for a long, long time."

Christopher Robin was surrounded by his friends under his favorite tree. It rested on the top of a hill overlooking the entire Hundred Acre Wood. He was older now, and he knew that he didn’t have much more time left with them.

"But going to sleep means that some day you'll wake up." Pooh said with a smile.

"Precisely!" Owl exclaimed.

"And we'll be here when you do," Kanga added. "I’ll even make you breakfast."

Christopher couldn’t help but smile. "I would very much like that. But you all have to understand that it will be a very, very long time."

"Oh ho ho! We are great at waiting a long time! Rabbit here waits every year for the carrots to grow in the garden." Tigger chimed in.

"And every year you destroy them!" Rabbit snarled.

"But Christopher!" Roo interjected, jumping into Christopher’s lap. "What are we going to do when you’re gone?"

"Oh I won't be gone Roo. I’ll be right here." Christopher placed his finger over Roo’s heart. Roo giggled and scrunched up into a ball.

"We'll be just fine," muttered Eeyore. "I’m used to being alone anyways."

"None of you will be alone! You’re a family now, and while I’m gone you will all take care of each other."

"B-b-b-ut you will b-b-be back r-r-right Christopher?" Stuttered Piglett.

Christopher let out a soft sigh and looked around at all of his friends. It was going to be difficult to help them to understand. They probably never would…

"Sometimes good things come to an end. But here’s the secret everyone— come close!" They all huddled together underneath the tree to listen to Christopher’s secret.

"Memories. Are. Forever." He whispered and tapped Pooh on the nose.

"Memories?" Said Pooh. “Well I have plenty of those! Like that time we saved you from the Heffalumps!"

"Or when you helped me fix my garden!" cried Rabbit.

"Or when you organized my library for me!" Exclaimed Owl.

"Or that time you built me a new house out of those sticks you found in the woods.” Eeyore added sullenly. “It didn’t last the night...but I remember it."

"Yes, yes! All of those are memories and you will have them forever. Just like I will have my memories of all of you."

Christopher stood up and took one last look over the Hundred Acre Wood. The sun was setting in the orange autumn sky and the trees were beginning to lose their leaves. It was time he went home.

Christopher gathered all of his friends together and began walking back down the hill. They were all busy discussing the memories they had had with each other.

"Christopher?" Pooh said, looking up at Christopher as they walked hand in hand. "You aren’t coming back, are you?"

Christopher looked down at the ground and took a moment before he responded. "No Pooh. I won't be coming back this time."

They walked in silence, listening to the sound of the crunching leaves underneath their feet.

Pooh suddenly stopped and looked intently into the ground. "I believe I am going to miss you Christopher," he said with a soft, broken voice.

Christopher leaned down and took his lifelong friend into his arms.

"I will miss you too Pooh. I will miss you very, very much."

Source: http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/29mc27/wp_on_his_death_bed_christopher_robin_tries_to/cimdpni

[gqcyclist]

I was trying to find info on the upcoming Giro Rosa, unfortunately it doesn't look like the organizers have updated their site. What I did find was that the riders have to race obscenely long distances. Seriously, a 2000km prologue? That's almost as long as the TdF. cyclocosm this seems like something you would put into #TWIB.