nothing compares to the magnitude of a wasted life

Bite Me
quod me nutrit me destruit
1 2 3 4

happy-blood:

by Kevin Cummins, 1994.

bizarre festival ‘97 | part ii

vintagesalt:

Drew Barrymore by Firooz Zahedi for GQ, 1995

i think i’m paranoid / garbage

nebkheperura:

Ville Valo + Purple
↳ A gift for bitchtoss.

deep shadows and brilliant highlights
released: august 27, 2001

nicolerichiest:

As for Brittany Murphy, for me it goes back to the 2003 Independent Spirit Awards, held the day before the Oscars in a big tent on the beach at Santa Monica. Murphy was assigned to present one of the awards. Her task was to read the names of the five nominees, open an envelope and reveal the name of the winner. This she turned into an opportunity for screwball improvisational comedy, by pretending she could not follow this sequence, not even after the audience shouted instructions and the stage manager came out to whisper in her ear not once but twice. There were those in the audience who were dumbfounded by her stupidity. I was dumbfounded by her brilliance. I had a front-row seat, and was convinced her timing was too good, her double-takes too perfect, her pauses too wicked, to even possibly be authentic. She was taking a routine task and turning it into the opportunity to steal a scene and leave everybody in the tent chattering about her performance. You can’t screw up that entertainingly by accident. You have to know exactly what you’re doing. - Roger Ebert on Brittany Murphy (Nov. 10, 1977 — Dec. 20, 2009)