holmes-sweet-holmes

mypatronusisrorypond:

redscudery:

saunteringvaguelydownwards:

decemberpaladin:

sizvideos:

Video

I love how she almost drops it until she smells it and that flashbulb memory hits.

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real … Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit

Notice she says “who” it was and not “what” it was.

Oh I just gotta snuggle my baby bear!

(On why he quit drinking) When I was 22, I got a job working as co-host of Singled Out, MTV’s mass human-fluid transfer experiment. It was a weird accident, and had I been mentally prepared to handle the responsibility, it would have been a good thing. But the erroneous lesson that I learned from getting hired at MTV was “work just falls into your lap.” What followed were several years of laziness, drinking, and fuck-ups on my part. This “woo-hoo par-tay” attitude piloted my brain through my twenties as I tried desperately to ditch the scared, wienerly nerd I had always been to fit in with the “cool kids,” whoever those oft-referred-to assholes are. Three years after the MTV gig ended, I was doing stand-up full-time and unwittingly tripped over my 30th birthday. It was at this first mortality mile-marker that I began to look around at my life: I was consuming a baby elephant’s weight in alcohol every day. I lived in a shitty apartment near UCLA (where I had gone to school-apparently I had become that dude who wouldn’t leave), my apartment was always a mess, I had ruined my credit, and I had no real work prospects. I had become what I’d always dreaded being-the fat, drunk guy who used to be on television. Back when I was working at MTV (which oddly, at one time, aired short films set to popular music), people used to talk about an MTV curse-that you might not “hit it any bigger” after your time there. I always recoiled at the thought of this curse, and here I was taking active steps every fucking day to make it happen… I knew that I had two choices: I could continue living the way I was living and die pickled and unemployed, or make sweeping changes with the hope of salvaging my life.
Chris Hardwick is kinda my recent hero