MDFsmash

Cinco de Mayo Chips + Drinks

mascarah:

nycmeetups:

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

WHAT: Chips, salsa, frozen margaritas

WHERE: Caliente Cab Company, the most obnoxious Mexican restaurant in the world. 61 7th Ave South at Bleecker St. It is bright red/yellow, you can’t miss it.

WHEN: 6 p.m.

I am going to get there early to put our name in, so send on a reblog or shoot me an email if you are coming so I have an accurate head count. If the wait is crazy,which it shouldn’t be, there are tons of other places around, so no worries.

This isn’t going to be insane, just a couple of drinks and some mexican food. And no, those are not famous last words.

Anything with salsa is muy bueno!

 YES

twitterpated

peterwknox:

marthalilian:

1)to be completely enamored with someone/something.
2) the flighty exciting feeling you get when you think about/see the object of your affection.
3) romantically excited (i.e.: aroused)
4) the ever increasing acceleration of heartbeat and body temperature as a result of being engulfed amidst the exhilaration and joy of being/having a romantic entity in someone’s life. When he smiled at her, the rush of warm, fuzzy, excited sensations that filled her made her realize she was completely twitterpated with this man.

(via Urban Dictionary)

WHO LOST A BLACKBERRY?

This is certainly ironic since I lost my Blackberry 2 weeks ago (and yeah, the jerk who found it still hasn’t tried to find me):

I’m certain that the Blackberry I found in my gigantic red work bag belongs to someone who has a Tumblr as I hung out with Tumblr users on both Thursday and Friday. I discovered the T-Mobile Blackberry this morning just floating around with all of my stuff, and when I turned it on there was no mail in it, and no information in it to lead me to a name. There was also an error with the SIM card, so mabye it’s already been reported missing… Does this belong to anyone I was hanging out with? Hit me up: michelle [dot] deforest [at] gmail [dot] com

Aaaahh…the power of Web 2.0. Many thanks to you, sir.

Virginia Woolfe's suicide note, to her husband

awkwardisawesome:

“I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can’t go through another of those terrible times. And I shan’t recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can’t concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don’t think two people could have been happier ‘til this terrible disease came. I can’t fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can’t even write this properly. I can’t read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that — everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can’t go on spoiling your life any longer. I don’t think two people could have been happier than we have been.”

She speaks of love. More than love.

One day. I’m patient.

And not crazy.