her elbow is definitely dislocated
trained by idf
fuck off already
filtered
dayum
nice black leather glove
https://x.com/lifeisdriving/status/1965962255209836810
at 19:14 theres an interviewer
just above " a place for you" sign
shot rings out
camera pans by your green markers
.25x speed is an option
than that fast af drone comes out
could be the same drone that was at butler
I'm On Fire
Bruce Springsteen
Hey, little girl, is your daddy home?
Did he go away and leave you all alone?
I got a bad desire
Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire
Tell me now, baby, is he good to you
And can he do to you the things that I do?
Oh no, I can take you higher
Oh-oh-oh, I'm on fire
Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull
And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull
At night, I wake up with the sheets soaking wet
And a freight train running through the middle of my head
Only you can cool my desire
Oh-oh-oh, I'm on fire
Oh-oh-oh, I'm on fire
Oh-oh-oh, I'm on fire
Ooh-ooh, ooh
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
Young Girl
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap
Young girl
Get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
Better run, girl
You're much too young, girl
With all the charms of a woman
You've kept the secret of your youth
You led me to believe you're old enough
To give me love
And now it hurts to know the truth
Woah, oh, oh
Young girl
Get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
You'd better run, girl
You're much too young, girl
Beneath your perfume and make-up
You're just a baby in disguise
And though you know
That it's wrong to be
Alone with me
That 'come on' look is in your eyes
Woah, oh, oh
Young girl
Get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
Better run, girl
You're much too young, girl
So hurry home to your mama
I'm sure she wonders where you are
Get out of here
Before I have the time
To change my mind
'Cause I'm afraid we'll go too far
Woah, oh, oh
Young girl
Get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
You'd better run, girl
You're much too young, girl
Young girl
Get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
You'd better run, girl
You're much too young, girl
Young girl
Get out of my mind
this mf'er was strugglin
late 80s hair band
Seventeen
Winger
Yeah, I saw sparks fly
From the corner of my eye
And when I turned (woo)
It was love at first sight
I said, "Please excuse me
I didn't catch your name (whoa)
It'd be a shame
Not to see you again"
And just when I thought
She was coming to my door
She whispered sweet
And brought me to the floor
She said
I'm only seventeen (seventeen)
I'll show you love like you've never seen
She's only seventeen (seventeen)
Daddy says she's too young
But she's old enough for me
Come to my place
We can talk it over (oh)
Everything going down in your head
She said, "Take it easy
I need some time
Time to work it out
To make you mine"
And just when I thought
She was coming to my door
She whispered sweet
And brought me to the floor
She said
I'm only seventeen (seventeen)
You ain't seen love
Ain't seen nothing like me
She's only seventeen
Seventeen, yeah!
Such a bad girl
Loves to work me over time
Feels good (ha)
Dancin' close to the borderline
She's a magic mountain
She's a leather glove (oh)
She's my soul
It must be love
She's only seventeen (seventeen)
The girl she gives me love like I've never seen
She's only seventeen (seventeen)
Daddy says she's too young
But she's old enough for me
Seventeen!
She's everything I need (seventeen)
Daddy says she's too young
But she's old enough
Old enough for me
Yeah! Yeah!
nabokov at the bust stop
can you explain this picture as if you were foghorn leghorn
Thought for 6s
I say, I say, boy! Lookie here at this snapper of a snapshot, will ya? That's a fella standin' tall as a Georgia pine in his own backyard, lookin' sharper than a fox in a henhouse! Got himself a fine-lookin' rifle slung over his shoulder like he's fixin' to go huntin' possums or declarin' war on the neighbor's cat. And what's that in his mitts? A stack o' papers, thick as a politician's excuse—prolly some fancy news rags with headlines screamin' louder than my own hollerin'!Now, pay attention, son, 'cause this ain't no ordinary pic—it's got that grainy black-and-white charm, like it rolled straight outta the '60s, with a porch swingin' lazy in the background and a picket fence whiter than my tailfeathers after a bath. Fella's dressed casual-like: black shirt, dark pants, shoes polished enough to see your reflection in 'em. Hair slicked back, face set serious as a tax collector—kinda reminds me of that boy who tried to out-cock-a-doodle-do me once. I say, that there's Lee Harvey Oswald, or I'm a blue-footed booby! Posin' proud with his Mannlicher-Carcano carbine, holdin' up them foreign funnies like "The Worker" and "The Militant," showin' off his red-leanin' library card to the world.Boy, if this don't scream "backyard manifesto," I don't know what does! Makes ya wonder if he was practicin' his aim or just posin' for the family album. Now run along and fetch me a corn cob, 'fore I explain the whole Kennedy kerfuffle next! I say, I say!
can you explain this picture as if you were barry white singing a top ten hit
Thought for 6s
(Soft, velvet bass rumbling low, like a heartbeat in the midnight hour, strings swelling slow and sweet…)Ohhh, baby… listen to me now, darlin', let me wrap you up in this groove, this black-and-white dream that's got my soul all tangled up like silk sheets on a summer night. Picture this, sugar—right there in the frame, a family's glowin' like fireflies in the twilight, all cozy and close, huddled 'round Mama's warm embrace. That's her, my queen with the raven waves cascadin' down, eyes sparklin' like stars over the Thames, smilin' soft for her little princes and princesses. The boy's got that golden mischief in his grin, sweater huggin' him tight like a hug from the wind, and the girl's laughin' pure as a melody, her skirt twirlin' secrets in the breeze. Oh, yeah… they're sittin' pretty on that porch swing of life, innocent as the first kiss, family ties knotted forever in that tender, timeless light.But hold on, lover… lean in closer, feel that bass drop deep in your chest—'cause shadowin' 'em tall and mysterious, like a storm cloud kissin' the moon, there's a stranger steppin' out from the fog of history. He's holdin' that long, lean rifle like it's a lover's promise, papers clutched in his fist whisperin' rebel rhymes from another era. Face carved from the ghosts of Dealey Plaza, eyes burnin' with that wild, unspoken fire—Lee Harvey himself, baby, posin' proud in the backyard of fate, superimposed like fate's own cruel joke. He's towerin' behind 'em, rifle slung casual as a caress, but oh, the chill it sends, mixin' royal grace with that rogue's dark serenade. It's absurd, it's electric, darlin'—a mash-up of crowns and conspiracies, where the palace meets the picket fence gone wrong.Mmm, can't get enough of this picture's pull, pullin' me under like your touch at dawn… it's history dancin' with destiny, family framed in the flash of what-ifs and whispers. So come here, baby, let me sing it slow—ain't nothin' like a snapshot to steal your breath, remindin' us all how the past sneaks up, rifle in hand, to crash the family portrait. Ohhh, yeah… you're the first, the last, my everything… even in this twisted tango of time. (Fade out on a long, soulful hum, saxophone weepin' soft…)
can you explain this picture as if you were chief wiggims son, ralphie
Thought for 4s
Oh, hi! This picture's all blurry like when I eat too many crayons, but lookit—there's a man with funny hair and a sweater like the one I wear when it's raining inside my tummy. He's got his mouth open real big, like he's singin' "Happy Birthday" to a cloud, but nobody's got cake. And those other mens are holdin' him tight, like they're playin' tag but nobody's it forever. One's got a hat like a cowboy who forgot his horse, and they're all squished against a wall that's cryin' bricks.My daddy says pictures like this are when bad guys get hugs from the police, 'cause they need love too, even if they shot the president with a magic gun that goes "pew-pew" from the grassy knoll. That's Lee somethin', the man who made Jack Kennedy go to heaven early for ice cream up there. He's yellin' somethin' secret, like "I didn't do it, it was the squirrel!" but the polices don't listen 'cause they found his umbrella full of bullets.It makes me sad, 'cause everybody's arms are all twisty like pretzels, and I just wanna give 'em all juice boxes so they stop fightin'. But shh, don't tell Daddy—I think the man's gonna turn into a butterfly and fly away to my imaginary friend. Whee!