• This is a collection of neat things by one Ashley Bohm, nineteen years old, but forever seventeen. Organized hoarder, art school drop-out, coffee shop dweller, and avid collector of everything. Presently residing in Oceanside, Ca.

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Aww…
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kimyadawson:

linotinto:

kimyadawson:

The good old early 90s.

Oh how I love Kimya ^^
Wait! Where is the Sting shirt?

At this point I had already retired the Sting garb. I was all about The Rickets, Unwound, Mushmouth, Sunny Day Real Estate, Slint, Jawbreaker, etc. I rocked some serious Pat Benatar and Billy Idol though too. And Bon Jovi. I was still way into Lionel Richie and Neil Diamond too.  
I was so totally “over” Sting, my first true musical love. 
I guess I felt like I could still fuck shit up to Lionel Richie and Neil Diamond. There seemed to be something inherently very punk about them. I could do donuts on the Capitol lawn to the Say You Say Me breakdown. I could smash windows to Song Sung Blue. 
I couldn’t fuck shit up to Fields Of Gold. 
And during that time I was working some stuff out. 
Destructively. 
Also, it’s hard to be destructive when every time you look down there’s Sting’s sweet-ass face trying to remind you what a good girl you had always been. 
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Abraham Mignon. Garland of Flowers, 1675.
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suicidewatch:

Bikini Kill
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nevver:

A Chronicle of Drifting, 1949 - Kansuke Yamamoto
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