
“Cutie Patootie Dave” commission for melanie-got-swaq ♥
(Source: blimpcat-art, via grayies)
I JUST SPIT OUT MY DRINK
Story of my life.
(via grayies)

I never get tired of this photo.
Ella Fitzgerald was not allowed to play at Mocambo because of her race. Then, one of Ella’s biggest fans made a telephone call that quite possibly changed the path of her career for good. Here, Ella tells the story of how Marilyn Monroe changed her life:
“I owe Marilyn Monroe a real debt… she personally called the owner of the Mocambo, and told him she wanted me booked immediately, and if he would do it, she would take a front table every night. She told him – and it was true, due to Marilyn’s superstar status – that the press would go wild. The owner said yes, and Marilyn was there, front table, every night. The press went overboard. After that, I never had to play a small jazz club again. She was an unusual woman – a little ahead of her times. And she didn’t know it.”
(via grayies)
elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey:
I never knew Javert went to Beauxbatons.
Well, he is French.
NOW THE SINGING MAKES SENSE
I don’t regret anything.
THANK YOU, IT IS PERFECT
Pfffff I can’t even-
(via captain-dorko)
My favortie scene in that movie
(via captain-dorko)
thinking about shitty awful bigoted things you said in the past
(via amidirkjakeyet)
A boat, beneath a sunny sky
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July—
Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear—
Long has paled that sunny sky;
Echoes fade and memories die;
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.
Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.
In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die;
Ever drifting down the stream—
Lingering in the golden gleam—
Life, what is it but a dream?
— Lewis Carroll
Halewood & Sons - Preston.
I want to be there ;w;
(via aegiyongioppa)




I don’t regret anything.
