Uncanny X-men 170
Storm rips out Calisto’s heart in a battle to the death for the life of her friends. Obviously it doesn’t go well for Calisto.
GOD I LOVE STORM SO MUCH YOU GUYS
Look at her picking up Angel like nothing. LOOK AT THAT DAMSEL IN DISTRESS. LOOK AT THE FUCKS SHE GIVES. NONE. NO FUCKS. MY GOD WOW.
I’m so happy this post is getting the notes it deserves. Love u ‘Ro
Matt Fraction (@mattfraction on twitter) requested some posters of Nymphomaniac with googly eyes. It was my sick day so…
This could bee us but you playin’
On the real, in 7th grade, I gave a girl a card that said “Will you BEE my valentine?” with a picture of a bee on it.
She never spoke to me again.
I’m listening to electron plasma oscillations from when Voyager 1 passed heliopaus
the only thing i really care about in this post is post-punk is listed as weird
what the hell man
"They’ve got their little categories, like ‘conscious’ and ‘gangsta’. It used to be a thing where hip-hop was all together. Fresh Prince would be on tour with N.W.A. It wasn’t like, ‘You have got to like me in order for me to like you.’ That’s just some more white folks trying to think that all niggas are alike, and now it’s expanded. It used to be one type of nigga; now it’s two. There is so much more dimension to who we are. A monolith is a monolith, even if there’s two monoliths to choose from. I ain’t mad at Snoop. I’m not mad at Master P. I ain’t mad at the Hot Boys. I’m mad when that’s all I see. I would be mad if I looked up and all I saw on TV was me or Common or The Roots, because I know that ain’t the whole deal. The real joy is when you can kick it with everyone. That’s what hip-hop is all about. … They keep trying to slip the ‘conscious rapper’ thing on me. I come from Roosevelt Projects, man. The ghetto. I drank the same sugar water, ate hard candy. And they try to get me because I’m supposed to be more articulate, I’m supposed to be not like the other Negroes, to get me to say something against my brothers. I’m not going out like that, man."