Friday Ephemera (842)

Clearly, it was a load-bearing ribbon. || Beauty treatment. || Herring bananas. || “The biggest thing is the toilets,” says the cross-dressing man. || Surprisingly tall self-balancing pole. || Paper, cut. || Time to play prettify the lady. || Ladies of the shopping mall. || How to shit. || How to get shot. || Hampstead, 6am. || When you’re gorged on unguarded chickens and too fat to fly. || This fatigue of which you speak. || Can’t say I like the colour, though. || Eh, close enough, I guess. || Monster Mash, if it were performed by The Cure. || Rock music. || Messing with ants. || Sudden-onset upwardsness. || Unhindered chopping. || “His doctors described him as being in a state of agitation.” (h/t, Neatorama) || No, really, it’s totally fine. || On quivering flesh. || You’re not looking at the fireworks, are you?

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