arbitrary shit

with some British bint.

  • 12th August
    2014
  • 12
  • 17th July
    2014
  • 17
vintageblackglamour:

*** UPDATE*** Many thanks to Shirley R. Gindler-Price and Jim Chew for pointing me in the right direction. This photo is one of thousands shot by  Philadelphia photographer John W. Mosley from the 1930s through the 1960s on Chicken Bone Beach in Atlantic City, NJ. Mr. Mosley’s archives are housed at Temple University in Philadelphia. Photo: John W. Mosley, Courtesy of the Charles L. Blockson Afro-American Collection, Temple University Libraries. This fabulous photo of beautiful friends (sisters? cousins?) has been making the rounds for eons online - via Pinterest, Tumblr, etc. However, no one has been able to identify any of these women or the photographer. I see the Shelburne (Hotel?) is in the background. Maybe they are in Atlantic City, NJ? If you have any information about the four women in this photo - or the photographer - please let me know in the comment section.

vintageblackglamour:

*** UPDATE*** Many thanks to Shirley R. Gindler-Price and Jim Chew for pointing me in the right direction. This photo is one of thousands shot by  Philadelphia photographer John W. Mosley from the 1930s through the 1960s on Chicken Bone Beach in Atlantic City, NJ. Mr. Mosley’s archives are housed at Temple University in Philadelphia. Photo: John W. Mosley, Courtesy of the Charles L. Blockson Afro-American Collection, Temple University Libraries. 
This fabulous photo of beautiful friends (sisters? cousins?) has been making the rounds for eons online - via Pinterest, Tumblr, etc. However, no one has been able to identify any of these women or the photographer. I see the Shelburne (Hotel?) is in the background. Maybe they are in Atlantic City, NJ? If you have any information about the four women in this photo - or the photographer - please let me know in the comment section.

  • 9th May
    2014
  • 09

On Poverty

paullicino:

Disclaimer: I have been trying to write this for almost a year and I’m tremendously dissatisfied with the result. It is three and a half thousand words long and has been drafted and revised so many times that I give up and release it from this endless, painful gestation.

I have never owned a table.

Sure, the place I live in has a table. It’s a glass table and it’s considerably better than the slightly wobbly wooden table in the previous place I lived in but, being glass, I’m perpetually terrified it will break and then I’ll have to pay for it. Then I’ll have paid for a table and still never have actually owned one.

I couldn’t tell you how much a table costs, but I did buy the cheapest and most basic desk for £50 once. I have a feeling I’d be charged a lot more than that if this table broke.

That philosophy extends to everything around me where I live, where I have lived: I don’t own it, but I will be paying for it if something goes wrong. There is a special sort of added excitement to this, since most of the places I’ve lived in have had all sorts of things wrong with them already, things from faulty electrics to ill-fitting windows to no doors that will close properly anywhere, that are never addressed. I’ve feared these things as well because I’ve wondered if I’m going to be the tenant who is deemed to be responsible for them, particularly because landladies and landlords seem to be curiously divorced from the properties they own. They always live far away, or they’re out of town or they’re overseas again. One landlady looked around a flat I was renting from her with surprise and awe and bafflement, failing to recognise many of its features.

Read More

  • 2nd March
    2014
  • 02
  • 12th February
    2014
  • 12
  • 20th January
    2014
  • 20
  • 18th January
    2014
  • 18
  • 25th December
    2013
  • 25
  • 21st December
    2013
  • 21
  • 12th December
    2013
  • 12
  • 12th December
    2013
  • 12
  • 9th December
    2013
  • 09
  • 9th December
    2013
  • 09
  • 14th November
    2013
  • 14
  • 3rd November
    2013
  • 03

Everyone Walks Everywhere

hotel-job:

GUEST: How far is the 9/11? Can we walk?
CONCIERGE: It’s a little far to walk, I recommend the subway or a taxi.
GUEST: How far is it?
CONCIERGE: About 4 miles.
GUEST: Are you kidding me?! That is NOTHING. We just came from EUROPE. People walk ALL THE TIME there. They don’t drive ANYWHERE. The pollution is so much less, no one’s obese, everyone is healthy, the air is better to breathe because everyone WALKS. Isn’t that nice?
CONCIERGE: Yeah! Just, some people wouldn’t count 4 miles as walking distance, which is why I mentioned a taxi or subway, but you can absolutely walk if you’d like to.
GUEST: (condescending smile) Yeah, I think we would.

(5 minutes later)

GUEST: Hi, sorry, we’re from Canada. We forgot miles are longer than kilometers. Can you get us a taxi?