Here’s what I love about Dylan: He was exactly as you’d expect he would be. He wouldn’t come to the rehearsal; usually, all these guys are practicing before the set in the evening. He didn’t want to take a picture with me; usually all the talent is dying to take a picture with me and Michelle before the show, but he didn’t show up to that. He came in and played “The Times They Are A-Changin’.” A beautiful rendition. The guy is so steeped in this stuff that he can just come up with some new arrangement, and the song sounds completely different. Finishes the song, steps off the stage… comes up, shakes my hand, sort of tips his head, gives me just a little grin, and then leaves… That was our only interaction with him. And I thought: That’s how you want Bob Dylan, right? You don’t want him to be all cheesin’ and grinnin’ with you. You want him to be a little skeptical about the whole enterprise.

President Obama on meeting Bob Dylan

(via warispeace)

She’s your pube shirt.

I missed you, Liz Lemon!

Get those nailbreakers!

Ladybugs

there’s a smorgasbord of unspoken poisons
a whole childhood of potions
that are all bottled up
and so one by one i am dusting off labels
i am uncorking bottles and filling up cups
so go ahead and have a taste of your own medicine
and i’ll have a taste of mine
but first let’s toast to the lists
that we hold in our fists
of the things that we promise to do
differently next time

marrow

ani difranco

Why am I not writing screenplays?

Stay off television and on birth control.

dearcoketalk

Invite him out for a drink and then, after about twenty minutes, casually drop into the conversation the fact that you’d like to marry him and have lots of sex and babies.