The Cranberry Blogs

Things I love:
The 1990s
Cranberries
Pizza
Veggies
Punk Rock
Sweaters
Friends
Poetry
Boats
The Ocean
Long Drives
Walking
Flannel Shirts
Whisky on Rocks
Kittens
Puppies
The Boston Bruins
Old White Lincolns
Espressos
Pokemon
12-Stringed Guitars
Snowboarding
Skateboarding
Surfing
Impressionist Paintings
Modernist Literature
Theater
Irish Folk Music
Americana
Scally Caps
Fedoras
Anything With Will Ferrel
Anything with Billy Zane
Marky Mark Wahlberg
My Family and Friends
Spelling, "Aardvark"
All Things New England
Those ducks that are in Massell pond
ΑΔΦ
http://thecranberryblogs.tumblr.com/ask

Old School.

Old School.

(Source: heckyeahgreekbadges)

travelingcolors:

Magic Carpets, Casablanca’s Sacre Coeur Church | Morocco (by Miguel Chevalier)

‘Magic Carpets 2014′ by French artist Miguel Chevalier is an interactive light display spread out across the floor of the former Sacré Coeur church in Casablanca, Morocco. Covering it with a huge layer of light, the work references the world of biology, microorganisms, and cellular automata – as cells have the ability to multiply in abundance, divide and merge at different paces. pieces come together, fall apart and transform in shape at rapid speeds. the displayed organic universe mingles with a digital construction of overlapping pixels.

King of Minneapolis

I. DRANK MYSELF TO DEATH

We got a bottle of Jim Beam and started drinking.
I drank a liter.
To distract me from my constant overthinking
I need a breather.

You built this up your head. The pressure.
Relax, don’t think too much ‘cause you can’t take this.
Well, I relaxed with liquor.
The pressure has gone away,
But baby, I can’t see shit.
It’s not the same to me when falling on my face.
It’s not the same to me when
I finally drank myself to death.

Enter the shaking, man, I should’va eaten something.
Enter the crying.
"My life is useless and I won’t amount to nothing."
Better start dying.

You built this up your head. The pressure.
Relax, don’t think too much ‘cause you can’t take this.
Well, I relaxed with liquor.
The pressure has gone away,
But baby, I can’t see shit.
It’s not the same to me when falling on my face.
Wrap me up in sheets,
There’s nothing left to see here.

I should be old enough to know (better better)
And I should be young enough to
Not take everything so seriously
I should be smart enough to
Know that doing this is dangerous
This mixing anxious energy with
Drunk ferocious carelessness.
t’s not the same to me when falling on my face.
It’s not the same to me when
I finally drank myself to death.
I finally drank myself to death.

I finally drank myself to death.
It’s turned to laughs.
I’m turning red outside on Cedar St.
It’s twenty-two degrees.
I’m screaming:
"M-I-N-N-E-A-P-O-L-I-S CAN KISS MY ASS IN HELL"
I’ve built you up in my head
And now you’ve started a war in my head.

And the soldiers are falling down.
And you din’t even try to win.

Aw, fuck.

II. TRUE ‘TIL COLLEGE

Get me a friend or a smoke
Or a hospital or a suicide pill.
Get me a million dollar record deal
So I can end this charade.

Cause I, I keep writing the same song over again,
Over and over and over and over again.
Yeah I, I keep writing the same damn song over again.
Over and over and over and over again.

And it feels like heroin.
I just got addicted to
Demanding your attention
For my trite repetition.
And I can’t stop thinking about
The first songs I ever wrote
Where I swore off alcohol
'cause I knew better.
And I can’t stop feeling like
That “straight edge” shit became a cult
But I’m kidding myself by believing
That the bar scene is any better.

And I, I keep writing the same damn song over again.
Over and over and over and over again.
And it feels like there’s nothing left at all.

III. OK Hangover

My god.
I woke up on the floor of a famous Minneapolis rapper (whose name will go unmentioned.)
I didn’t crush the cat.
No one wrote “dick” on my forehead.
I wasn’t seeing stars, I was seeing cigarettes and 1990’s compact discs.
I didn’t even feel depressed like every other day that I wake up.

I wouldn’t trade it for the world, I would trade it for way less.
Just a parking spot and a place to call my home.
I’m always waking up hating that life ain’t perfect
Despite what they say, my mistakes AREN’T worth it
But fuck it, I got through today.
I can get through tomorrow.

We lost a tire, but we put it back on.
I lost the love of my life, holy shit, I got a better one.
I lost a couple of my favorite shirts and favorite friends.
I lost my favorite band.
I feel like I have lost my mind and people tell me “this is fine.”
Still, I feel shitty every time I try to fucking fall asleep at night.

I wouldn’t trade it for the world, I would trade it for way less.
Just a parking spot and a place to call my home.
I’m always making mistakes that are never worth it
Despite what they say, I hate that life ain’t perfect.
But fuck it, I got through today.
I got a few more tomorrows.

And everyday I wake and smile but by day’s end my smile subsides.
But I guess I’ll be here a while and I’ll smile through today, ‘cause last night I didn’t die.

IV. Cecil Otter Tattoo

And I know I’m not dead because I just threw up in my own mouth and swallowed back.
This hangover ain’t that bad.

I feel worse just about every day, but James Brown must have sparked a change
Somewhere in our dialogue about sleep, hardcore and not being young.

Got it drilled in my leg
Because I fucked my head.
When I’m all alone, I will always have one friend.

When I wish I was dead
And I hate my friends
I must repeat this ‘til the end.
I still have a home even if my home’s a van.

When I wish I was dead
And I hate my friends
I must repeat this ‘til the end.
I still have a home even if my home’s a van.
You still have a home even if your home’s a van.
I still have a home.
I still have a home even if my home’s a van.

hungrylikethewolfie:

live-action modern day “the lion king”
NEW YORK, 1960s. The civil rights movement reaches its crest. Mufasa, a prominent activist leader in the city, clashes against his younger brother Scar, himself a prominent leader of the mafia underground. Politics against politics, brother against brother; Mufasa dies, Scar reigns. A new law governs New York in the 70s: blood and bribery.

Idris Elba as Mufasa, Michael K. Williams as Scar, Naomie Harris as Sarabi, Jaden Smith as Young Simba, Amandla Stenberg as Young Nala (not giffed), Taraji P. Henson as Timon, Mo’Nique as Pumbaa, Chiwetel Ejiofor as Older Simba, Kerry Washington as Older Nala, John Boyega as Kovu, Zoe Kravitz as Kiara.

OH

MY

GOD

(Source: stannisbaratheon, via fangirlsjustwannahavefun)

grouchythefish:

ladyofpurple:

I like how the original title for The Fault in Our Stars is all poetic and then the Norwegians just translated it to “fuck destiny” and I think that’s beautiful

Aw man, I thought for sure this had to be bullshit but nope

grouchythefish:

ladyofpurple:

I like how the original title for The Fault in Our Stars is all poetic and then the Norwegians just translated it to “fuck destiny” and I think that’s beautiful

Aw man, I thought for sure this had to be bullshit but nope

image

(via fangirlsjustwannahavefun)

misha-bawlins:

Your move, Mr Lecter.

Woah

(via sofetofe)

kleineunendlichkeiten:

I laughed for about 38372 years

This is me.

kleineunendlichkeiten:

I laughed for about 38372 years

This is me.

It’s a tumblr post of a reddit post of an imgur post of a tumblr post of a facebook post of a tumblr post of a tweet.

He says you brade runnah!

(Source: norocmate)