No lamb for the lazy wolf. No battle’s won in bed.
The Havamal, Book of Viking Wisdom (via blackval0r)

I can think of at least one battle fought in bed, bit usually there’s more than one winner…


Brian Oldham

Brian keeps his passion of all things beautiful and strange ever present in his work, creating surreal, conceptual images that transport the viewer to new worlds. Brian is currently living and working in the Los Angeles area, and is available for commissioned work internationally.



Jan Huling’s Whimsical Sculptures Covered With Thousands Of Beads

Jan Huling’s Whimsical Sculptures Covered With Thou

Jan Huling‘s beaded sculptures are inspired by a continuous fascination with indigenous and popular cultures, as well as world religions and mythologies. Her meticulous work combines found objects with surface design, recontexualizing recognizable objects by adorning them with colorful patterns and infusing them with wonder and whimsy

Things I have learned this morning:
Having fruit salad at 2am will mean burping honeydew at 10am. Oops.

Love is grate. That grate in particular.

Surprisingly busy Easter Weekend (and honestly I’m kind of looking forward to the 4-20/Easter posts “Blaze it, Jesus”).

Things I’ll be learning after work:
Sensai Crown @thiscrooked cown is going to give me the basics on using her sewing and serge machine.

And other stuff (secrets, sorry).

Have a very confident, sexy day!

I am an idol worshipper. I believe the the animistic concepts of “non-living” or non-human objects to be capable of possessing souls, power, and sentience. I believe in gods and spirits, and their ability to interact with and occupy objects in the same way we might wear our clothes or occupy a home. The subconcious is a very tertiary concern when it comes to my worship and relationships with non-human entities.

(Source: ulfilarune)

Anonymous sent:

So for me, the art of the theater requires a lot of hard work and discipline. Reflecting that, would it be alright for me to offer coffee to Dionysus while I work on my craft?

Short answer: yes.
Long answer: Still yes, because even though coffee is not a traditinal offering sponde, anything may count as a votive offering, especially if it doesn’t offend the gods, it is a personal sacrifice, and you can explain its significance.
Also, because coffee(caffeine) is an entheogen by some folks definitions (mine included) as caffeine effects the mind as much as the heart, and is therefore a “new world” Dionysian spice.

This answer is fairly short; I certainly could go on,but I’d rather not put you off any longer, anon.

Wish I could drink like a fairy all the time.

REBLOG | 1 day ago | 5
tags: #gpoy

ok, ok, to slake my desire, I’m going to add a fe drops to pomegranate juice and water it all down. I am way too excited for this, you don’t even know!

I have geranium extract and I just want to bathe in it or roll around in it or swallow all of it, oh gosh, I don’t think it’s gonna make it into the mayday hooch!


Big Male Leopard of Kabini by Sandeep Dutta




(Source: maubauworld)

ὦ Σεμέλας τροφοὶ Θῆ-
βαι, στεφανοῦσθε κισσῷ:
βρύετε βρύετε χλοήρει
μίλακι καλλικάρπῳ
καὶ καταβακχιοῦσθε δρυὸς
ἢ ἐλάτας κλάδοισι,
στικτῶν τ᾽ ἐνδυτὰ νεβρίδων
στέφετε λευκοτρίχων πλοκάμων
μαλλοῖς: ἀμφὶ δὲ νάρθηκας ὑβριστὰς
ὁσιοῦσθ᾽: αὐτίκα γᾶ πᾶσα χορεύσει—
Βρόμιος ὅστις ἄγῃ θιάσουσ—
εἰς ὄρος εἰς ὄρος, ἔνθα μένει
θηλυγενὴς ὄχλος
ἀφ᾽ ἱστῶν παρὰ κερκίδων τ᾽
οἰστρηθεὶς Διονύσῳ.
Nourisher of Semele, o Thebes,
wreath yourself with ivy,
burgeon, burgeon with green
lovely-fruited yew,
frenzy in branches
of oak or fir,
and crown your clothes
of stippled fawnskin
with white-locked fleeces,
fulfill the rites
with arrogant fennel-wands:
now the whole earth will dance—
whoever leads the revels is Bromios—
to the mountain, to the mountain, where waits
the band of women,
stung by Dionysus
from loom and shuttle.

Euripides, Bacchae, 105-19.

(trans. mine. Greek text: [x])

(Source: terpsikeraunos)

Without arranging the details with your trick first. A grrrl’s gotta eat, but deserves the decency of working for their meal like everyone else.

(Source: zemorue)


“Look around your college classroom, spot the virgins. See, this seems like a game until you skip over the girl with a short skirt and hair in front of her eyes because you heard last summer that she slept with like nineteen guys. You can’t see her hands, but they’re under the table, pulling a rosary through her fingers as she tries to wash the sin off her. She’s only ever kissed three people in her whole life and they’re all girls. She turned down the wrong guy and he told everyone she’s “a whore.” The label “slut” stuck to the bottom of her shoe and swallowed her up. But that quiet girl who is always reading probably never touched someone else’s penis, you figure, because you don’t know that she goes home and strips down and pulls on tight black leather, you don’t know she’s got a set of whips that could make any set of knees quiver, you don’t know because she’s proud of what she does but she’s not stupid enough to let anyone know about it. She’s sexy, just not here, not where people judge. See, the truth is: you have no idea who has lost their virginity, because it doesn’t change you. It doesn’t give you some kind of glow or superpower or stamp on your forehead. You know the feeling of waking up on your birthday and thinking “I don’t feel any older whatsoever”? That’s what maybe they’re all so afraid of you finding out: sex doesn’t change you. Sex doesn’t make you an animal, sex doesn’t suddenly make your relationship a million times more stable or intimate or romantic - it can’t fix what’s broken, although it can make the pain go away for a bit. Sex doesn’t really occur with eighty tea lights and a thick white rug. Sex is ugly and loud and frequently awkward, sex is excellent and breathtaking and when you wake up the next morning, you’re the exact same person. There’s not some magical connection with the person in bed beside you. Believe it or not, pregnancy isn’t some kind of punishment - but practice safe sex, get tested, don’t spread your germs around. They want to tell you, “Sex can ruin you” and I’ve heard that a lot as a little girl, that some boy would join me under my sheets and then dump me four days after, used, unhappy. But I figured out that I’m not a fucking toy. Letting someone have sex with me is not letting them “use” me, because I’m not an object. My father said the issue lay in the fact “Men are insecure and need to know that they’re the best you ever had,” but I think that’s a steaming crock of absolute-wrong and if I didn’t tell the people I’m with how many others I’d slept beside, there would be literally no way for them to know my number, because I don’t rust, I don’t wear out, I don’t get bruised. I’m not a wilting fruit, I don’t go rotten. But here’s the thing: some people connect sex and emotion. I don’t personally because I am probably secretly an ice storm in disguise, but I still respect my partner’s desires. If they’re the type to want love and sex to coincide, I let them. I don’t make fun, I don’t pull one-night-stands or friends-with-benefits, because it’s not their “reputation” I’m afraid for: it’s their heart I’m defending. Here’s the thing: Instead of worrying about people’s “purity” and how it defines them as a person, worry instead about how you can protect other people’s emotions. Because here’s the thing: look around your room and spot the virgins. Look harder. You can’t tell. Sex doesn’t alter people, it doesn’t make them act in a certain way nor dress in a certain manner. Sex and personality have nothing to do with each other. There’s a reason that virginity doesn’t show on someone’s face: because having sex doesn’t cause you to change.”

"I lost my virginity to a boy I didn’t even love…" /// r.i.d (via i-blame-reagan)

(bolding mine)