Wurstkuche should be a verb.

Ice packs and a pug. (Assholes.)

Scenes from a lady's bathroom.

When I'm done with research, they become coasters.

January. Los Angeles.

Nothing but time to ride Angel's Flight.

Granted, this is the best spot in the house. But that's where my face goes.

Southern facing windows means I get about 1 hour of magical light a day.

Left to right. Lanvin. Like/lust. *lick*

I'm not really complaining. This is what passes as work these days.

Fee fi faux fur.

I'm thinking of filing assault charges against her.

I ain't blowdryin nothin today.

Grimbergen dubbel, bestill my heart.

One tiny head and one giant hat.

Have relinquinshed control of car for important photo shoots.

Hopelessly devoted to you.

Who knew there were so many dapples of sun and books to read for free just down the street?

From all appearances and taste, these are shrimp soup-flavored Japanese Cheetos.