Yet to be Written,

Because breakdowns come at a great cost

23 notes

Tarot Group: Hard Boiled

tarotgroup:

image

So recently it was decided that Stephen and I and anyone regularly part of our staff are going to make a concerted effort in extending the companies social networking and media branch and start *holds back the bile in throat* ‘Blogging’ regularly. As a result what was originally supposed…

3 notes

Tarot Group: Fool’s First

tarotgroup:

imageSo you’re a private detective? I didn’t know they existed except in books, or else they were greasy little men snooping around in hotel corridors.’ -Vivien Routledge, The Big Sleep

In 1883, A Mr. Eugène François Vidocq became the worlds first Private Investigator. A former criminal…

2 notes

Tarot Group: Magnum Opus, Post Haste!

tarotgroup:

imageFirst blog post I’ve ever done. I’m excited. Yeah! LETS DO THIS MOTHERFUCKERS.

Okay, calm it down, gotta play this cool. I’ll just take it from the top shall I?

My name is Stephen Hannaway and I am not what many would consider successful. I bombed out of school with the flair and grace…

152,819 notes

saltheria:


yeffyaboyuice:


mythchief:


So there I was, ready to take a shower. I mean, I was dirty, a little greasy, a shower was not such a horrible idea. People take showers, amiright? Of course!
I get naked.
FULL naked.
REAL naked.
I’m talking the exact opposite reason why you ever went to your grandmother’s house.
No cookies. Blatant nudity.
That’s how folks take showers these days, right? Well, I pull back the curtain…
And there it was.
This…thing…sitting on the little soap/shower/pube shelf. Not a care in the world, like it’s been there for years. “What the fuck is that?” I think to myself.
Now, what follows is the exact pattern of thought that took me from rational human being to Sloth in 3.4 seconds.
“Is that a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit? Holy fuck that’s a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit. OMG why would someone leave that unattended. Those things are so delicious. I’m gonna eat the fuck out of it. Man, I can’t wait to see whoever left it’s face when they come back to find that someone ate their cheesy biscuit’s fuck. Ohhh boy.”
Then my brain sent a message to my arm that said, “Reach for that cheesy biscuit, bitch. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?”
As you must already know, we are all contractually bound to make a dickload of mistakes throughout our lifetime. Some of those mistakes are so big that they forever hinder our world and warrant entire chapters in our children’s history books. However, most mistakes have the dubious providence of merely haunting one’s soul and festering amidst the subconscious for always and eternity.
This was, nearly, one of those.
If my adjacency to failure could be measured, the only possible unit of measurement to appropriate it would be “baby condoms”. And no, I do not mean those horrendous papoose-like titty-cribs that the slovenly carriage their spawn around in in Wal-Mart, I mean condoms that a baby would wear.
My adjacency to failure was roughly 1 and a half Kiddie Trojans.
I’m not sure what stopped me, be it cosmic or supernatural, but it gave my brain just enough time to ask itself some rather important questions regarding this little tub treasure. Questions like:
“WHO, THE FUCK, WOULD LEAVE A CHEESY BISCUIT IN MY SHOWER?!”
And inquiries such as:
“AND WHY WERE YOU GOING TO EAT IT, MORON?!”
Seriously, was I so hungry that I would wantonly disobey all the integral conditioning and survival imprinting my parents bestowed upon me like the ever important, “Um, don’t eat that biscuit dumbass, you don’t know where it’s been or whose it is and also you found it in the shower.” in order to satisfy something so benign as a munchie?
That, I’m sorry to say, was pretty much my reality.
An early morning introspective psychological evaluation of a sad, hungry, naked man who almost ate a bar of soap.


OMG ITS BACK


This shit needs to be published.

saltheria:

yeffyaboyuice:

mythchief:

So there I was, ready to take a shower. I mean, I was dirty, a little greasy, a shower was not such a horrible idea. People take showers, amiright? Of course!

I get naked.

FULL naked.

REAL naked.

I’m talking the exact opposite reason why you ever went to your grandmother’s house.

No cookies. Blatant nudity.

That’s how folks take showers these days, right? Well, I pull back the curtain…

And there it was.

This…thing…sitting on the little soap/shower/pube shelf. Not a care in the world, like it’s been there for years. “What the fuck is that?” I think to myself.

Now, what follows is the exact pattern of thought that took me from rational human being to Sloth in 3.4 seconds.

“Is that a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit? Holy fuck that’s a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit. OMG why would someone leave that unattended. Those things are so delicious. I’m gonna eat the fuck out of it. Man, I can’t wait to see whoever left it’s face when they come back to find that someone ate their cheesy biscuit’s fuck. Ohhh boy.”

Then my brain sent a message to my arm that said, “Reach for that cheesy biscuit, bitch. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?”

As you must already know, we are all contractually bound to make a dickload of mistakes throughout our lifetime. Some of those mistakes are so big that they forever hinder our world and warrant entire chapters in our children’s history books. However, most mistakes have the dubious providence of merely haunting one’s soul and festering amidst the subconscious for always and eternity.

This was, nearly, one of those.

If my adjacency to failure could be measured, the only possible unit of measurement to appropriate it would be “baby condoms”. And no, I do not mean those horrendous papoose-like titty-cribs that the slovenly carriage their spawn around in in Wal-Mart, I mean condoms that a baby would wear.

My adjacency to failure was roughly 1 and a half Kiddie Trojans.

I’m not sure what stopped me, be it cosmic or supernatural, but it gave my brain just enough time to ask itself some rather important questions regarding this little tub treasure. Questions like:

“WHO, THE FUCK, WOULD LEAVE A CHEESY BISCUIT IN MY SHOWER?!”

And inquiries such as:

“AND WHY WERE YOU GOING TO EAT IT, MORON?!”

Seriously, was I so hungry that I would wantonly disobey all the integral conditioning and survival imprinting my parents bestowed upon me like the ever important, “Um, don’t eat that biscuit dumbass, you don’t know where it’s been or whose it is and also you found it in the shower.” in order to satisfy something so benign as a munchie?

That, I’m sorry to say, was pretty much my reality.

An early morning introspective psychological evaluation of a sad, hungry, naked man who almost ate a bar of soap.

OMG ITS BACK

This shit needs to be published.

(via theredladyelebuu)

30,788 notes

myrandombloginess:

taelala:

keepfabandgayon:

vulcansgonewild:

aquarion:

fenris-kin:

strongblackwomankin:

LORD OF THE CHANGING WINDS
That’s either a good or a bad thing.


THE FIRES OF HEAVEN
Well, I suppose that works

There… er.. aren’t any books in my office. The closest thing… is probably the horror DVD my ex-coworker left, and has migrated to the tech-bits shelf… 
… so… “The devil in me”.
…
Of course, the book currently on my Kindle, should I turn it on, is “The Blade Itself”.
But I don’t… think, that’s really…
…
Better.
Kind of thing.

AN INTRODUCTION TO COGNITIVE BEHAVIOURAL THERAPY

“genki”
it is my japanese textbook

My Old World Civ textbook?
IMAGES OF THE PAST
I’m not sure my lover would appreciate my reminiscing…

THE WISHING SPELL!Hm. Maaaayybeee?

OMG, I FUCKING WIN. The Norton Anthology of…THEORY AND CRITICISMwell I always shout theory and criticism during sex anyway. 

myrandombloginess:

taelala:

keepfabandgayon:

vulcansgonewild:

aquarion:

fenris-kin:

strongblackwomankin:

LORD OF THE CHANGING WINDS

That’s either a good or a bad thing.

THE FIRES OF HEAVEN

Well, I suppose that works

There… er.. aren’t any books in my office. The closest thing… is probably the horror DVD my ex-coworker left, and has migrated to the tech-bits shelf… 

… so… “The devil in me”.

Of course, the book currently on my Kindle, should I turn it on, is “The Blade Itself”.

But I don’t… think, that’s really…

Better.

Kind of thing.

AN INTRODUCTION TO COGNITIVE BEHAVIOURAL THERAPY

“genki”

it is my japanese textbook

My Old World Civ textbook?

IMAGES OF THE PAST

I’m not sure my lover would appreciate my reminiscing…

THE WISHING SPELL!
Hm. Maaaayybeee?

OMG, I FUCKING WIN. 
The Norton Anthology of…

THEORY AND CRITICISM

well I always shout theory and criticism during sex anyway. 

(Source: yourfuckingmuse)

0 notes

fishiefisheyfish asked: you ain't no bad person sweetheart. You got all caught up in a florrent of paper and work - sweetie, don't go tugging at your own heartstrings when they don't need to be pulled.

you’re such a lovely person and omg you use expressions like ‘sweetheart’ and ‘heartstrings’ who even talks like that, I want to talk like that. I wish I knew more people like you. 
 

0 notes

Neglect

Wow. I have really neglected this blog since I’ve started university. 
Like, I have REALLY neglected this blog, and I feel a bit shit, because it was an ok blog, like genuinely, and now I’m just wasting it. Like I say it was a good blog, I’m not saying it was good as in worthwhile, but I thought, at least compared to my other blogging efforts, it was fairly neat, tidy, an appropriate subject.

And I used to blog/reblog good THINGS. LIKE REMEMBER ALL THE THINGS? Like online writing community of the week. Whatever happened to that?

And I’m taking a degree in Literature at the number one school of literature in the world for fuck sake, it’s not like I’ve not been learning stuff EVERY DAY, that is really and would make excellent content for this blog. Like that great lecture on Authorial Intent and reader centered criticism. 

I am a bad person. I’m sorry.