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Posted on 1st Aug at 8:05 PM, with 99 notes

tasteforthetasteless:

Golden Age of Grotesque-
by Shannon Crawford

Posted on 1st Aug at 8:04 PM, with 29,274 notes

bhagyawati:

yagazieemezi:

"For almost 1,000 years, the Rabari have roamed the deserts and plains of what is today western India. It is believed that this tribe, with a peculiar Persian physiognomy, migrated from the Iranian plateau more than a millennium ago. The Rabari are now found largely in Gujarat and Rajasthan.”

Jimmy Nelson's photography is just beautiful.

Posted on 1st Aug at 6:07 PM, with 4,031 notes

feralkid:

Joao Ruas - Cannae of You and Me (2013) 200x90cm

Posted on 29th Jul at 9:05 PM, with 82 notes

badgerless:

I may need to re-buy some of my favourite Pratchett books so I can get my mitts on these covers…

Posted on 19th Jul at 10:17 AM, with 2,737 notes

hifructosemag:

Hedi Xandt’s sculptures add macabre twists to classical imagery. See more on Hi-Fructose

Posted on 18th Jul at 9:52 PM, with 56 notes
dragonsdongma:

sometimes i wonder if i should even do comics. they’re a killer on the hand (and how do proper page sizes)! only one panel things now.
also i will never do the same character design twice. adds to the challenge.
source!

dragonsdongma:

sometimes i wonder if i should even do comics. they’re a killer on the hand (and how do proper page sizes)! only one panel things now.

also i will never do the same character design twice. adds to the challenge.

source!

Posted on 18th Jul at 8:29 PM, with 40 notes
i-am-lono:

Happy birthday, you bastard.
Today’s the day our favorite gun-slinging madman was birthed from a most likely tattered womb. Let us take a hefty gulp from our glasses, because simply lifting them would be a waste of precious time, and down whatever whisky, rum, or what-have-you fills your cup this evening/morning/whenever. And then refill that glass because this savage life is far too short for just one.


To the man who actually made me interested in journalism, the psychotic oaf who taught us that weirdness trumps all, the brilliant mind who tamed fierce words with a wooden chair and a broken bottle of Wild Turkey, the immortal legend who could be killed only by the hands of himself… the Master of Gonzo, Dr. Hunter Stockton Thompson. May your legacy live on, and your decrepit corpse rot in some semblance of peace.
Res ipsa loquitur.

i-am-lono:

Happy birthday, you bastard.

Today’s the day our favorite gun-slinging madman was birthed from a most likely tattered womb. Let us take a hefty gulp from our glasses, because simply lifting them would be a waste of precious time, and down whatever whisky, rum, or what-have-you fills your cup this evening/morning/whenever. And then refill that glass because this savage life is far too short for just one.

To the man who actually made me interested in journalism, the psychotic oaf who taught us that weirdness trumps all, the brilliant mind who tamed fierce words with a wooden chair and a broken bottle of Wild Turkey, the immortal legend who could be killed only by the hands of himself… the Master of Gonzo, Dr. Hunter Stockton Thompson. May your legacy live on, and your decrepit corpse rot in some semblance of peace.

Res ipsa loquitur.

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