I miss a car

pictures: google

Death Proof from Quentin Tarantino. I like it! It makes me wanna paint my room yellow (and yellow is SUCH an ugly wallpaint colour), walk around in my underwear, be a cool hoodchick, moooisterize my legs after shaving them (and not to skip it out of lazyness). And it's strange: the first minutes, or let's say hour, you're watching it you can only think of your waste of time/money but then there's the end and you leave the cinema with an akword but verry excited feeling. I call it the The-after-Tarantino-I-want-to-become-a-gangster-state-of-mind. Quentin is one sick mind halleluja. And I NEED TO SEE INGLOURIOUS BASTARDS

And he definitely got a foot-fetish. Almost everywhere there's a foot sticking out of somewhere.


My foots should be sticking between the layers of my bedsheets right now. I'm gonna get after some sleep that I forgot to take last night. O yess, the year has begun!I'm back in my studytown woopwoopwooppp