heaven hart

King City
Swim Deep
King City

I wanna be everything that I’m not
I wanna be rich I wanna show off
Just a desperado, with a sour twist
It’ll all come sweet on your lips

‘Cause I’m in love is so old
Put your flowers down it’s too cold
And fuck your romance
I want to pretend
That Jenny Lee Lindberg is 
my girlfriend


If you have enough space to keep a Scottish Deerhound, you could not make a better choice. The breed is too little known (the price they pay for their size), but once you have known them, they make all other dogs seem a bit pale by comparison. Those fortunate enough to know this splendid breed echo in feeling the tribute Sir Walter Scott paid to his beloved Maida: “The most perfect creature of Heaven.”

— Ernest H. Hart, Encyclopedia of Dog Breeds (1968)


Video editors from TRXYEStudios decided to edit a multifandom video in order to show a support to LGBTQIA+ community.  We used song by Troye Sivan “Heaven” because it perfectly describes coming out and other struggles that people from LGBT+ community are facing almost everyday. 

We want to share this video with world, because of Pride Month, a recent tragedy that happened in Orlando and also because there are many more people that are afraid of coming out and being rejected by the others. 


Please share this video as much as you can so we can help other people and show our support for LGBTQIA+ community. 



“Tammy flipped through the channels and finally settled on a rerun of MTV’s The Grind. I wanted to speak up and ask her to change it. I wasn’t opposed to the amount of booty popping happening on the screen; I was just bored. Why would you want to watch average, pedestrian dancers dance with each other? This wasn’t like today’s So You Think You Can Dance. This was “So You Think You Can Kind of Keep a Beat and Will Work for $30 a Day and Free Lunch.” I looked to my left to see Annie in heaven.”

- Mamrie Hart, You Deserve A Drink: Boozy Misadventures and Tales of Debauchery

I’ve Got This Round Countdown, Day 82: Sista, Sista

Here there be ghosts,
Lost and weeping hosts
Lurking in the gloom and dusk,
Name’s  all carved in stone,
All beat and weather-worn,
Standing now o’er bone and dust.

And all these lonely years,
No soul to shed some tears,
And all we ghosts just haunt and wait.
Whether heaven waits or hell,
No one of us can tell,
If it is hell’s fire,  or heavens gate? 

Ambrose Harte