ginanation:

Here’s a better picture of my girl, Buster.  Yes, I know that Buster isn’t an appropriate name for a girl cat.  But she’s a cat.  She totally doesn’t give a fuck.

I got her by accident. You guys know I lost my precious little angel wiener dog last summer.  And it was quick and premature.  So I was sad.  Still am.  I missed her a lot, and considering all the other happy horseshit that was going on in my life, it made everything worse.  But I still wasn’t ready to get another dog.  Every time I tried to look at adopting one, I couldn’t pull the trigger.  Then, at the peak of my life’s chaos, we have a car brought in to the shop.  And as my dad was closing up for the night, this kitten jumps out of the trunk and runs into the parking lot where it was pouring rain.  My father is not a cat person at all, but something about her made him melt.  So, he brought her in and kept her at the shop overnight until I got to work the next day.  Then, he spent the better part of the morning telling me how I needed to take her home.  And look at that face.  How could I say no? 

4 1/2 months later, this bitch runs this shit.  I should just put her name on the goddamn deed because this house is hers.  I just get to live here. 

Awwww.  Love this face….

smalllindsay:

mindkog:

Da Mystery

Baman Piderman tribute song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o_iQzaw1btE

Really sweet!!

ohmybuster:

Buster Keaton - The Bell Boy (1918)

fortheloveofbuster:

Beacause we need beauty in the world. And he has such a beautiful face so I thought I would share.

bustermylove:

Here you go followers. I hope you like it. Happy Holidays :)

Wow!  Biscuits!

thepurpleplague:

plum68:

hannahbanjoclark:

Stop being dead. Seriously. Stop it. This is not the last you will be hearing from me, sir. Because this “death” thing, it’s a problem. It really is.

Not a deal breaker though.

Bahahaha you speak the truth. 

busterness:

The Actors Colony at Bluffton (Muskegon) built their first clubhouse on the shores of the lake, The Cobwebs & Rafters, in 1907 (imagine those parties!!!).  By 1916, so many of their members had purchased boats that a “yacht club” was formed and a new headquarters erected.  Years later, as membership dwindled and actors left the colony, someone penned the following lament, called “The TCYC Blues”:

T.C.Y.C. BLUES

Good times every night all summer long. 

Down at the clubhouse

So far, there’s been nothing going wrong.

Down at the clubhouse

Lots of clowns from whot to choose

No one’s ever been known to refuse

And so we’ve had no T.C.Y.C. Blues.

You’ve all heard the knockers club and little Nell

Down at the clubhouse

At Ella Rawl’s rose dance, you’ve all laughed like hell

Down at the clubhouse

You’ve all seen Buster on a wild, wild cruise

With his Peerless, red sweater and his tennis shoes

But you’ve never heard those T.C.Y.C. Blues

Those Club House Blues.

You’ve all seen that famous statue clog

Down at the clubhouse

The tity-tot man, Miss Mosquito and the frog

Down at the clubhouse

Every one has been unthused, with the guy from Texas

But that’s no news,

You’ve never heard those T.C.Y.C. Blues.

Pop Millard is the stewart, pro tem

Down at the clubhouse

We’ve had singing and dancing in our little shack

For the beef steak and fish-fries, how our lips smack

We’ve had a surprise and the quartette in tune

But we love best Joe Keaton and his Mr. Coon.

Old Geo. Lovett left us flat and said good-bye

Down at the clubhouse

Pearl Bros., Burns and Patsy Barrett sailed for Chi.

Down at the clubhouse

Everybodys leavng by 3’s and 2’s

And as each familiar face we loose

You’re going to hear those T.C.Y.C. Blues.

Pretty soon there won’t be anybody here

Down at the clubhouse

All locked up and no one gargling beer

Down at the clubhouse

Where ever we are on the old cho-cho’s

Rockford, Chapaign, Kalamazoos

Somebody’s going to sing those T.C.Y.C. Blues

Those Club House Blues.