Coconut with a Motor

julianahuxtable: “UP AT POP SOUK IN THE OAK PHOTOBOOTH IN...

Tue, 21 May 2013 04:48:20 -0400

julianahuxtable:

“UP AT POP SOUK IN THE OAK PHOTOBOOTH IN BCALLA” / “A BREATH-FULL OF A CARRY”

Flawless perfection.

Ballroom Lana is the best Lana.

Thu, 16 May 2013 07:43:07 -0400

Ballroom Lana is the best Lana.

NOPE. NOPE. NOPE. A THOUSAND TIMES NOPE.

Wed, 15 May 2013 11:21:06 -0400

NOPE. NOPE. NOPE. A THOUSAND TIMES NOPE.

"What do you think of Riff Raff’s concerns about the film? Riff Raff’s doin all this..."

Wed, 15 May 2013 11:20:11 -0400

“

What do you think of Riff Raff’s concerns about the film?

Riff Raff’s doin all this cryin’ about the inspiration for this character. He was an inspiration for part of James’ character. I was the inspiration as a gangster and a rapper. He was the inspiration for him sucking on them pistols like dicks.

”

- Dangeruss on Riff Raff on Spring Breakers and it’s just braids all the way down.

10/10 would bang.

Wed, 15 May 2013 11:17:32 -0400

10/10 would bang.

May the potoo guide my thoughts and perceptions.

Tue, 14 May 2013 09:08:41 -0400

May the potoo guide my thoughts and perceptions.

Photo

Tue, 14 May 2013 02:38:00 -0400

Photo

Mon, 13 May 2013 11:41:34 -0400

pavel-petel: Pavel Pétel for H&M Makeup & Photo: Sergey...

Sun, 12 May 2013 10:31:31 -0400

pavel-petel:

Pavel Pétel for H&M
Makeup & Photo: Sergey Ostrikov

This is my everything.

May Jennifer Lawrence guide my thoughts and perceptions.

Wed, 08 May 2013 04:21:17 -0400

May Jennifer Lawrence guide my thoughts and perceptions.

How to be naked

Tue, 07 May 2013 01:32:00 -0400

You are outside. A tour group of middle-aged adults mills about nearby, attentively listening to a man give instructions in booming Dutch. The group leader wears a polo shirt and slacks. The tour group is all naked and clutching towels – clutching, not covering. The group leader finishes his speech and the group disperses. You, waterlogged, are in a hot tub. You’ve been here for a while, but only now does the relaxation kick in like a Xanax. You sprawl and sigh. A couple of weathered Nederlandse vrouwen have a casual conversation beside you, their breasts bobbing gently in the water. You look up to see planes sketch contrails across the sky on their way to Schiphol. A duck perches on a rooftop and peers down with quizzical duckish eyes. You wonder if any ducks have landed in this pool of steaming water and sodden bodies. The duck takes off and flies overhead. You are outside. You are naked.

You’ve been circling the idea of coming to the nude spa for a long time, always backing out at the last minute, because migrant living has made you stingy. Without the protection of the motherland or an EU passport you feel exposed. A single misread letter could lead – has lead – to hundreds, maybe thousands of euros disappearing into the tax office or your health insurer or the bank or your internet provider or the gemeente. You’re not one of those expats who are continually Instagramming pictures of their feet on beaches. Instead, you save and fret and save some more. Besides, you’d have to be naked at the nude spa, and you’ve not had a decent bikini wax in years.

But now your friend Cheney has arrived from Australia for a visit. You’ve been friends since you were teenagers and have been present for each other’s most unfortunate phases. A brief skinny dip phase meant you’d seen each other naked a lot. You remember this one night over dinner, and impulsively decide it is finally time for the nude spa, because Cheney is here now and Cheney is the only person you could possibly go with. Cheney understands this and agrees. You book tickets online.

The nude spa is set back on the fringes of a huge park adjacent to Schiphol airport. The foyer has the corporate polish of one of the better Holiday Inns. The receptionist gives you each an RFID wristband, a bundle of towels and a bathrobe and sends you, with little explanation, up the stairs, presumably to the place where the naked people are. You are overcome with shyness. You take turns getting changed in the bathroom, and pad your way out to the ‘wellness kamer.’ A sign at the entrance has a series of icons – a camera circled and crossed out, a cell phone circled and crossed out, and two sets of feet, one standing in front of the other like one of those how-to-dance diagrams you see in old Warner Bros cartoons, circled and crossed out. ‘Does that mean no dancing?’ Cheney asks. ‘I think it means no making out,’ I reply.

You walk downstairs and there are the naked people. They are soaking in hot tubs, paddling in the pool, casually making their way from one tool for relaxation to another. It is the moment of truth. We hang up our towels and agree to disrobe on a count of three. One, two, three, and we drop the robes and giggle our way into the pool. None of the Dutch people behave this way. We are the immature and prudish foreigners.

We soon discovered that, free from the distractions of smartphones and clothing, nude spas are the perfect place to talk. ‘It’s like a bath,’ Cheney said, ‘except you’ve got someone to talk to.’ You’ve been feeling disconnected from home lately, adrift, and this is exactly what you need. You loiter in the aroma bath, a high-ceilinged room containing a broad shallow pool of warm water divided by short little tile fences, like cubicles, so you can lie down and relax without the risk of touching a stranger’s body. You breathe in the generic Relaxing Spa Scent and have a long, echoey conversation.

Cheney leaves for an hour to get a massage, so you have lunch in the spa restaurant. The restaurant is pleasantly mid to high-range, with linen napkins and heavy cutlery, and they serve you salad and bread and wine. The restaurant staff are, of course, fully clothed, but all of the customers are in bathrobes, their hair dripping and wet.

After lunch you explore outside. There are more people now, naked and wobbly and pockmarked and scarred. You notice a lot of younger women here with older women, maybe mothers or grandmothers, talking and laughing as they lounge in the warm water. This strikes you as quietly lovely. All this warm, salty water is having an effect on you. You feel content and loose, maybe a little foetal. You see exactly one woman, firm, leggy and high breasted, who would have made you feel bad if you weren’t so thoroughly brined. ‘She must work out,’ you think serenely. ‘Good for her.’

At some point you totally forget to have genitals and bend over to pick something up. You are too relaxed to be embarrassed.

Cheney returns and you explore the saunas, a series of rooms carefully art directed to look like Finish cabins, Roman bathhouses and, in one case, the interior of a restaurant-grade vegetable steamer. We’re not experienced enough to spend long in the saunas, while the locals seem to steam themselves like pork buns. Afterwards you fling ice at each other in the ice room, because you are still the giggling and immature foreigners.

You spend some time paddling in body temperature salt water of the outdoor pool, where you decide you’ll make a habit of this. Cheney suggests you get custom-made robes – awkwardly short and hooded, with a Latin phrase embroidered on the back – so people know we’re serious about our spa-going. ‘It could say ‘I won’t look at yours if you don’t look at mine’,’ Cheney offers. ‘’Eyes front’,’ you suggest.

You emerge champagne woozy from the nude spa into the cold Amsterdam wind, skin dry from the salt. Next time you will bring lotion. At, si non tibi, non me respice. Ante oculos. You will be back.

A thing I would have instagrammed

Sun, 05 May 2013 07:43:43 -0400

Tall, tattooed, beefy bouncer-type is walking alongside a tiny, just barely walking child. The kid is slow because he’s just learning to walk, but the bro is patient and unhurried, and the kid can’t fall because the bro is gently, tenderly holding the hood of the kid’s sweatshirt.

clambistro: stryker: But I’m A Nice Guy (by Scott Benson) (via...

Sun, 28 Apr 2013 17:01:53 -0400

clambistro:

stryker:

But I’m A Nice Guy (by Scott Benson)

(via Chris)

I’d watch a feature length version of this.

Standing up and applauding

RE-TWIZZEEET

This is my EVERYTHING. He put a FLOWER in someone’s BUTT...

Sun, 28 Apr 2013 03:56:03 -0400

This is my EVERYTHING. He put a FLOWER in someone’s BUTT and it looks SO REFINED I COULD KILL MYSELF.

Catnip?

Fri, 26 Apr 2013 07:20:14 -0400

domesticbutfierce:

So my lame cat Toki started his own reaction gif Tumblr. God, stop being such a loser, Toki.

The song is kind of dull but CIARA YOU GUYS!

Wed, 24 Apr 2013 15:04:10 -0400

The song is kind of dull but CIARA YOU GUYS!

This is in all seriousness unbearably hot not a dry seat in the...

Mon, 22 Apr 2013 14:51:31 -0400

This is in all seriousness unbearably hot not a dry seat in the house A++ two thumbs up ten out of ten

GPOY

Sun, 21 Apr 2013 11:21:10 -0400

GPOY

Touchscreens

Mon, 15 Apr 2013 06:42:58 -0400

Touchscreens

merlin: let-us-start-a-war: I’m so sorry This is SO much...

Fri, 12 Apr 2013 12:06:59 -0400

merlin:

let-us-start-a-war:

I’m so sorry

This is SO much like my dreams.

Yes.