(via unicornology)
On Manny Pacquiao (work in progress)
Boxing, in all its rituals and ceremonies, is perhaps the most religious of all sport. The demands it places upon one’s will, the sacrifices it asks of the human body and its capacity for suffering are beyond those of most mortals. On his knees in prayer at his corner of the ring, before and after every single fight, Pacquiao transforms the canvas into a sacrament. Perhaps this is why one can’t help but feel a certain justice in his physical accomplishments: a feeling that the boxing gods, pleased with the devotion of this Filipino street vendor, paved the way for his salvation.
gotta love brown folk
“The Rev. Michael Sinnott, the 79-year-old Irish missionary priest who was recently released from a month of jungle captivity in the south by suspected Muslim rebels, said his kidnappers had been eager to set him free because they wanted to also watch the Pacquio-Cotto match.
“‘Your freedom is our freedom. We don’t want to be here for a long time, too, and we want to watch Pacquiao’s fight,’” Sinnott told the CBCPNews, the news service of the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines (CBCP), quoting his kidnappers.”
Chris Brown - “I Can Transform Ya”
Let Chris Brown transform your face with his Pop Life brand eye shadow. Cry (tears of joy) all you want—this stuff won’t run or smudge.
Oh, you’re wrong for that (and yet, oh so right).
that Charlie is one sneaky guy.
The caffeine potency in these vietnamese ice coffees (cafe sua da) is incredibly unpredictable. Or: ouch, my brain.
The Independent Man by Gwendolyn Brooks
Now who could take you off to tiny life
In one room or in two rooms or in three
And cork you smartly, like the flask of wine
You are? Not any woman. Not a wife.
You’d let her twirl you, give her a good glee
Showing your leaping ruby to a friend.
Though twirling would be meek. Since not a cork
Could you allow, for being made so free.
A woman would be wise to think it well
If once a week you only rang the bell.
