#Havana Times

[olivia2010kroth]

HAVANA TIMES / TASS: Russia - Cuba / Russland - Kuba

HAVANA TIMES / TASS: Russia – Cuba / Russland – Kuba Russia’s UAZ Opens a Vehicle Assembly Plant in Cuba / Russlands UAZ eröffnet ein Fahrzeugmontagewerk in Kuba The company was founded in 1941 to provide the USSR with vehicles to face the advance of German troops. (TASS/Izvestiya) Das Unternehmen wurde 1941 gegründet, um die UdSSR mit Fahrzeugen auszustatten, mit denen sie dem Vormarsch…

[lemonbreelnd]

But I really liked getting to know you. And I still really like you. BOTTOMS (2023)

[hensfox]

you know you didn't have to start like a whole... fight club just to date me. you could have just like... talked to me.

BOTTOMS (2023) ► dir. Emma Seligman

[t0ocleverfox]

isabel and josie from bottoms (2023) dir. emma seligman

[yourlocaltoad]

Vampires In Toontown

HAPPY HALLOWEEN MFS!!

[chalamet-chalamet]

Timothée filming a commercial in NYC on April 22, 2023. ✨

IG credit to holycolorfulpig

[rosaaeles]

something about her is soooo annie cresta coded

[captainsy-cookiemonster]

I can't wait for Boom's series. That big guy is so precious 🥰

[seuleekei]

I just love The Cadence Of Part-time Poets so so much:( just finished reading one of my favourite chapters so far and I’m so grateful ab this story<3

[emilysarmstrong]

Fall outfit

[xhellodollyx]

The truth is that Amy reminded me of her father in this image. Not only does she resemble her father in that suit, but she also resembles her father in her hair. Because now I notice carefully that Chucky's hair is not completely black.

YES EXACTLY!!! YOU TOTALLY GET IT 🤝 she has his hair and eye color and even face shape too, like it's crazyyyy

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

Year 3000 2.0 (ft. Jonas Brothers) • Loser Kid 2.0 (ft. Simple Plan) • 3AM 2.0 (ft. James Arthur) • Crashed The Wedding 2.0 (ft. All Time Low) • Meet You There 2.0 (ft. Neck Deep) • Air Hostess 2.0 (ft. You Me At Six) • Everything I Knew 2.0 (ft. Dashboard Confessional) • What I Go to School For 2.0 (ft. The Vamps) • Sleeping With the Light On 2.0 (ft. Deaf Havana) • MMMBop 2.0 (ft. Hanson) • You Said No 2.0 (ft. Charlotte Sands) • Thunderbirds Are Go 2.0 (ft. McFly) • She Wants to Be Me 2.0 (ft. Bowling For Soup) • Who's David 2.0 (ft. Wheatus) • Year 3000 - Hits Version • Loser Kid - Hits Version • Good One • 3AM - Hits Version • What I Go to School For - Hits Version • Crashed the Wedding - Hits Version • You Said No - Hits Version • Sleeping With the Light On - Hits Version • Air Hostess - Hits Version • Thunderbirds Are Go - Hits Version • Who's David - Hits Version

Spotify ♪ Youtube

[starrahcoolership]

Proverbs 12:20

N.os Forever Fever

Like a lily Alpine Breeze

[coffee-and-uhg]

Promotional ads for the film, Dirty Dancing Havana Nights, 2004

And the official trailers :

[zoezoegr]

Pennies from Heaven

I have to hurry home to my ghost. Let me explain: I moved to a new apartment 1 and 1/2 years ago––I'm coming up on a lease renewal. It has generally been a perfectly typical apartment, of course, save for the floor-to-ceiling windows, comparatively low rent, and the neighbor's dog, whose expression looks shockingly like Sir Alec Guinness. It's uncanny, but probably not occult. I mean, I sincerely doubt that Mr. Feathers––that's the dog's name––is the reincarnated spirit of The star of the Lavender Hill Mob, The Lady Killers, and Our Man in Havana, among others, but the thought has crossed my mind. It is a rather striking resemblance. But I swear, that was the only strange element in my building for over a year. And as well we all know, ghosts don't wait a year before they saunter out and start haunting a place––they get right down to it––or so popular fiction would have us believe. That's why I was understandably surprised to find, as I got under the covers one night last month, a strange glow, almost phosphorescent, from which was produced a pallid figure, lacking in gravity.

You probably think that I screamed. I didn't scream; I simply went up to the man––I quickly ascertained that he was one––and asked him who he was. To my surprise, he asked me the same thing. For an exaggerated moment, our eyes were locked in a very long winded attempt to glean some understanding through the nuance of expression, but to no avail. I engaged him in small talk; he reciprocated. Little by little, I was able to make head and tail of the situation:

His name is Frederick and his wife was recently widowed. He is 36 years old and he passed away in a freak tram accident. The great irony is that both the tram and his home are in another country. Let me rephrase: he is haunting the wrong country. In fact, he is haunting the wrong continent.

Frederick was, of course, very distressed to hear this. He was hoping to haunt his wife––you know, out of love––but I suppose there was some sort of bureaucratic mixup––naturally I don't know the true nature of Providence, but I assume it must be something of the sort––and instead he's haunting me! It breaks my heart, really. The poor man is stuck in my apartment, longing for his wife and home, I can't do anything to help. You might assume that his being here would be an imposition on me, but frankly, it's been a long time since I've entertained, and what's more, my social life is going through bit of a dry spell these days. Maybe it's selfish, but I'm glad of the company.

This was the situation as of last month. In four weeks, we have become friends. We know each other's tastes––I don't know his in food, for the obvious reasons––but his likes, dislikes, dreams for the future, pet peeves, etc. I well know. He loves Dianne Wiest, and it pains me that we can't go to see her new movie together––you know, because he can't leave the apartment. But at the very least, last week, I agreed to dog sit Mr. Feathers for the day, for Frederick's enjoyment, and he does agree most adamantly about the resemblance.

Flip Side

My memories suddenly returned as I materialized. There was a period of time where I either did not exist, or was existing in a way that I cannot comprehend. As I came back into being, I was filled with the joy of knowing that I was at home with Mary, even if it was no longer as a being she could see, touch, or even understand. Mary has always been a very scientific person. Even if she saw me, there's a chance that she’d refuse to believe her eyes. As I materialized, I began to perceive a woman in front of me––but she wasn't Mary. I am much more disappointed in death than in life. She didn't scream––I'm grateful for that––she talked to me politely––that was a shocking relief. I don't particularly like small talk, but in this situation, it was soothing. For the first time, in death, I appreciated its value. She asked me more than she told, but was never nosy. I managed to find out that her name is Lucy, she's 40, and she's a bank teller. She loves to read and watercolor and we have surprisingly similar taste in films.

It became apparent that I was stuck at Lucy's, but there are far worse fates. Apparently, death isn't fair, either. But I like Lucy. As much as is humanly possible, she helps me forget that I was killed by a derailed tram—while Ben Affleck, who was standing next to me at the time, lived, apparently––and that I would probably never see Mary again. She knows I like Dianne Wiest, and since I couldn't go to see her new film, she rented her entire filmography for me. She brought over her neighbor's dog, who bears a shocking resemblance to Alec Guinness. That was a good day.

Lucy is not the easiest person. She's always bubbling over and she seems to be incapable of sitting in silence. But she's very kind. I can't think of any logical reason why she should be. It's obvious to her that people should be kind. I don't know how long I'll be with Lucy, but I know that I'll enjoy my time with here much more than I ever could've imagined.

[josie-marks]

people have to understand that blonde ppl are fine, ginger ppl is who we should be against