Do you ever scare yourself just a tiny bit with the caliber of murderous fantasies you instantly conjure when you see your mortal enemy?
More evidence that I should be writing.
And maybe meditating.
New York - how can you not love this place?
I’m so terribly angry about today’s events. Unlike the majority of professional athletes, marathon runners are people I actually look up to and admire for their dedication, discipline, stamina, humility and just plain badassery. Marathons are aspirational events for the very reason that the average person can do it if they can reach deep down inside and tap into the best part of themselves and train their asses off.
Marathons are joyful events. They are spiritual events. Community events. Bonding events. Charitable events. COURAGEOUS events.
In my eyes, marathons and the runners who complete them are pure goodness, plain and simple. They inspire me. They challenge me. They make my arguments invalid.
The bombing today, at the finish line of an event that may well have been the pinnacle achievement of someone’s life, was absolutely and utterly unforgivable. To target the spectators - the proud, cheering, joyful, supportive spectators - was pure evil.
Whoever did this, I have news for you. You can’t intimidate and beat down a marathon runner, asshole. Think about it. They just ran TWENTY SIX POINT TWO MOTHERF**CKING MILES. Some of them have done it many, many times. You think your cowardly act of violence is even remotely meaningful compared to what they have achieved? No way.
I hope you enjoy hell, you pathetic wretch. In this life or the next.
I could watch this forever
Most people have no idea how easy it is to disarm someone with a gun if they’re within spitting distance.
Can we choose who we love?
Dog photobombs every single photo in Craigslist apartment listing.
First commenter to ask if the dog comes with the apartment gets a prize. Oh man, not only are rents so much better in Chicago than New York, but they have sleepy dogs in every single room? It’s so tempting, but we could never survive the winters. We wouldn’t mind if a pup popped up every time we entered a room, though. It’s like a very slobbery, very easy game of Where’s Waldo.
Via Happy Place