carl 🥦

@nightlifemingus.bsky.social

418 Followers 236 Following

so many fortresses and ways to attack

Screenshot of a photograph on the Wikipedia page for Wrangler jeans. The photograph is of the lower half of a man wearing Wrangler jeans, seen from behind. The photograph is captioned “French man wearing Wrangler jeans.” The subject of the photograph is not discernibly French in any way.
A bowl of overnight oats served with chopped mixed nuts, dates, and chia seeds
a used paperback of Paul Auster’s “New York Trilogy: City of Glass, Ghosts, and The Locked Room,” published by Penguin. a bookmark featuring a white dog peeks out from the pages. the hand holding the book is pink because the reader was recently napping on it. traces of weeks-old pink nail polish — for a viewing of Barbie — remain on the pink hand’s thumb. beyond the book, a view of the room: the plaid dog blanket, a TV, a stereo, a book shelf of DVDs and blu-rays, hardwood floor, dog toys, dog bowls, a ceiling fan, a dining table on a green rug, an octagonal vintage mirror etched with a floral design
mountain man
In this image, a dog peers through parted blinds at a noise outside. The dog’s proportions are difficult to describe: his legs, particularly the forepaws, are short and squat, while his body is long, thick, and rather sausage-shaped. He is of a copper color, with white paws, a white-tipped tail, and a white belly and neck. This dog’s name is Hoagie. He is standing at the apartment’s sliding glass door, which is left open to allow a summer breeze to cool the living room through the screen. Outside, someone has made a noise which drew Hoagie’s attention; a woman repeating “no, no, no,” as if to a misbehaving child. Hoagie now stands at the screen door, sniffing the breeze with ears cocked, parting the blinds with his nose to survey the walkway and the neighbors garden. The afternoon light falling over his body reveals the contours of his musculature beneath his fur, which accentuates the strangeness of his size and shape.
hoagie, that strange-looking dog, curled up like a little cinnamon roll on his master’s pillow
A large hound, possessing rather bizarre proportions, sits at his Mistress’ door and yearns to take his place at her side upon her sick-bed, following his perfunctory walk up and down the street, upon which occasion he did poop and pee, although no sooner did he accomplish such feats did he then endeavor to return home