meghantonjes:

thenotsouglygirl:

OMG POLAROID CAMERA GIVEAWAY!

I’ve been meaning to put it up on eBay or sell it or something but I decided what the heck; I’ll give it away to my followers, since you’re all so amazing.
it’s a one-step express polaroid (produced somwehere between 1981 - 86)

it still work, maybe not as great as it used to (the top pictures are samples, maybe it was the film I bought for it though - I’m not sure - but they all fade at the top)

it ‘Impossible film PX600’ colour and black & white.

so if you’re a photography and camera nut like myself, or you just want some fucking awesome old-school camera; here ya go~

RULES:

• you don’t have to be following me. I’m a fitspo blog, so I get not everyone wants to follow… but it’d be nice :3
• reblog as many times as you want - likes don’t count.
• I’ll be using one of those random number pickers
• make sure your ask is open so I can message you if you’ve won it.
• if the winner doesn’t reply within 10 days I’ll have to pick a new one.
• I’ll ship anywhere because I’m so fucking nice and awesome.
• and that’s all I can think of.

this is my first ever giveaway, so don’t make it a pain in the ass.

the winner will be chosen on June 5th because that’s my liddo sister’s birthday and I won’t forget that way :)

Ladies and Gentlemen, let my first ever give-away begin! and may the odds, be ever in your favour.

want.

(via weasley93)

thepudupudu:

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away… but that’s another story / song. Yesterday was, in fact, John Finnemore’s last Priory Engagement. Chess and I had been to one before and knew to expect to laugh until we cried and we were not disappointed. But before the show began, I took it upon myself to hide a lemon behind a stool leg. This almost ended badly as the bar/sound man came over and tried to remove it, mistaking it for one of their lemons. I leapt at once to the defence of my citrusy companion and informed the poor bemused fellow that it was very much my own and that yes, I do indeed make a habit of carrying a lemon about with me (though in a bag rather than a pocket). I was prepared to fight him for it, such was my gallantry (ok, ok, insanity). So well-hidden was the lemon that Mr Finnemore didn’t notice it until he accidentally kicked it out from under the stool midway through the second half. A point to me there in yet another game that never ends (read in Arthur’s creepy ‘suddenly a serial killer’ voice, of course).

The show itself was BRILLIANT (as if it could have been anything else). Someone had bought Mr Finnemore a Martin Crieff t-shirt and he removed a shirt to expose that this was beneath with a quip about how it’s always an actor’s dream to wear an image of another, more successful colleague. Along with new material, there were highlights from previous weeks. Anyone who’s listened to John Finnemore in the Now Show, especially, will know that he is a master of satire and of exposing a a whole manner of vices and follies to ridicule and last night’s show was a master class in this. Few stones seemed unturned and in several sketches the subject under satirical scrutiny was himself. One sketch in particular was a very personal and poignant (though no less hilarious) insight into how difficult the life of a comedian can be: ‘I have my own show!’ he bleated, only to meet the rebuttal ‘on the radio.’

At the end of that particular skit, Finnemore mused that he wasn’t entirely sure whether the audience was laughing too much at his torment. I, having no brain to mouth filter what-so-ever called out that we still loved him and others assured him in turn. Usually I would be hideously embarrassed with myself for having done this, but in this case I’m really not, because I really want him to be aware of how much people appreciate him and his work and how our love of Cabin Pressure is in no way diminished by it being on the radio. It’s for this reason that I set up the Lemons and Landmarks project (and it really is a project, now) and I’m very grateful to everyone who’s participated because I can’t think of a more worthy recipient of all your hard work and dedication to the cause of sticking lemons beside interesting things and taking pictures of them together (snappily put).

And then Chess and I met John Finnemore for the second time and Arthur for the first time. I made the mistake of approaching him without Chess (my personified gagging order) who had toddled off somewhere and, as such, he is now aware that something odd is going on, the nature of which will be revealed in a few months time. I apologised to him, very concisely stating that I have ‘this thing. If I think something I just sort of… say it’ (am I not the most eloquent of them all?) but all is well, because we would have needed to give him some reason for why we desired a picture of him with a lemon and since no specifics have been revealed, the citrus based secret remains safe (phew). Pre-photoshoot, however, he needed to catch up with some friends so Chess and I got to know some other lovely fans, I talked at them about Roger Allam (I’m so sorry, guys! I probably have a mute button somewhere), and I had ‘First Officer’ written across my chest in lipstick (hurrah).

Upon his return, I requested that he pose in the character of Arthur, and so we met Mr Shappey who is, it must be said, TERRIFYING. Above you can witness for yourself the little ball of mania in a Martin shirt and then, in one of the pictures, John Finnemore’s amusement at the realisation of just how insane his character is. Essentially, he was rather like Tigger on a diet of Red Bull and we were all in stitches. As a result of our lemony antics, we missed our train and very nearly missed the last coach home but it was all worth it. If the last few months have taught me anything it’s that no amount of effort is too much, or could ever be enough, to show him just how much I appreciate his work. And so, on that note, it’s back to the lemon spreadsheet with me!

(via cumbercrieff)

He gets it now. How everything- everything has been leading to this. The blue box on the corner of every street. The strange couple standing in the shadows just out of the corner of his eye. He would bet that they are the ones he is seeing now.

“Oh! Oh brilliant. John this is brilliant.”

“What, what is it?”

“You tell me.” Sherlock says in that tone of voice that John knows he reserves just for when he wants to make his flatmate feel clever.

“A film, something behind the mirror?” John tries weakly and Sherlock arches an eyebrow like a cat not amused, “Alright. A projection then?”

“As ever you see but you do not observe.”

“Don’t give me that…”

“John! I need you to look, really look.”

He does.

“Impossible. Bloody Impossible.” John whispers, “What is it?”

Sherlock grins just as the odd man in the mirror frowns- like distorted reflections of one another.

“That-“ he points to the mirror, “that is time collapsing.”

——————————

The mirror stands alone. Through the ages it stands alone. Innocuous. Just a mirror it would seem, just your reflection framed. On first inspection at least.

If one were to look closer they may see more.

The glass beautifully shattered. A single blunt trauma sending cracks throughout the structure like the threads of a spider’s web. These cracks exist in the fourth dimension.

The mirror stands alone, through the ages, but for two moments in time. /p>

Two moments, hundreds of years apart.

A Time Lord and his companion.

A detective and his doctor.

————————————

“Amy… do you see that?” The Doctor scowls, prodding the mirror approximately where his own face lies.

“Is that- that’s a person!” Amy gasps at the person- no people ­­in the mirror. People that aren’t themselves, blurred and distorted but most definitely there, “Are they in the mirror?”

“No. Not in the mirror, they’re standing where we are. Two times. One reflection. We’re seeing there reflection too. This is very not good.”

“How is that possible?” Amy asks, though she doesn’t know why. Impossible is a word you soon learn to forget when with the doctor.

“It’s those cracks. Cracks in time like the crack in your bedroom wall only not because these are making two separate times, in exactly the same place, converge.”

“We need to find them, then. Find this other time.”

“Yes- yes, good idea.” The Doctor mutters his reply, he sounds faraway, lost in his mind.

“What’s going on, Doctor?” Amy asks, nervous lilt to her voice as she steps closer to examine the pair in the mirror.

The Doctor frowns just as the odd man in the mirror grins- like distorted reflections of one another.

“Time is collapsing.”

(via deductionsandjam)

lizzymaxia:

Grandma’s House 2x05 - The Day Simon Found Himself Back on the Path to Fulfilment and Joy

(via slitherbeats)