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#canters
mycollectionmylife · 8 months
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Canter's
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hollyweirdangeleno · 7 months
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Crazy wind tonight
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oldshowbiz · 7 months
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Joanna Lee was one of the few women writers on Gilligan's Island.
She stumped the panel on What's My Line, her occupation being a "TV Comedy Writer."
A denizen of 1950s Hollywood, she appeared in Ed Wood's Plan 9 From Outer Space and hung out with Lenny Bruce at Canter's Delicatessen.
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americaisdead · 1 year
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los angeles. march 2023. 
© tag christof
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fixedgearbacon · 3 months
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Bakery counter at Canters Deli, Feb 2024
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Hey guys, made another TikTok video (omg, what have I become. Round 2 of covid comes with hyperfixations I guess XD)
TikTok link to Carving Process Here
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littool preview
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circuitmouse · 6 months
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Historic LA Landmarks
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losangelesghostgirl · 2 years
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fence-time · 7 months
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Poor impulse :( caught in the middle of his buddies fighting :(
(Btw vote for team ZIT in the @mcyt-trios polls :3)
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year
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Clown to Equine communication failed; They are separate species.
[First] Prev <--> Next
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whywishesarehorses · 3 months
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The barn got a donkey!! Thea is so incredibly enamored, and the mini is pissed about all of it
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hollyweirdangeleno · 4 days
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oldshowbiz · 8 months
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Bunk Gardner said Wild Man Fischer was always busking in front of Canter's Delicatessen.
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sibblank · 6 months
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I like that there are three different animations based on your movement speed
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weirdlookindog · 4 months
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Buio Omega (1979)
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oknowkiss · 6 months
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Song drabbles???? 😭😭😭😭 26 please (or 10 if you can’t do that one.) I’m obsessed with this. 🥹❤️❤️
for you, darling? anything. have some pub night drarry & the gang, 595 words, rated T for language and mentions of sex.
always be my baby - mariah carey
“The line is: side canter is a feeling so strong,” Draco says, leaning victoriously back in the booth, arms and legs crossed. Everyone groans.
“No, it isn’t. That makes literally no sense,” Harry says. He’s got a point, but Draco has no interest in feeding his morbidly bloated ego. 
“Go on then, Mr Recently Out,” Draco says, flourishing in Harry’s direction. “Impress us all with your homosexual expertise in Mariah Carey lyrics.”
Harry’s mouth goes flat, but Draco can tell by the creases near his eyes that he’s trying not to laugh. 
“By that logic,” Harry says, leaning forward on his elbows, “Considering how wrong you are, you’re the straightest person here.”
Ron snorts into his beer, sloshing foam over the rim. 
“Shall I play the song again?” Neville asks, already half out his seat, coins in hand.
“That won’t be necessary,” Harry says, “Because—”
“Too late!” Neville calls, sings practically, halfway to the jukebox, at the same time as Draco makes pointed eye contact with Harry and says, “Gaaayyyy.” 
“We’re going to be thrown out if he plays that song again,” Hermione frets. “And don’t say gay like that, Malfoy. It’s rude.”
“I’m allowed!” Draco insists, eyes wide. “You can’t, but I can. It’s my agenda.” 
“He’s just learned that term today,” Harry says in a fake whisper. “Act impressed.” 
Draco sticks his tongue out. 
“I’m going to be ill,” Pansy says from beside Draco. “Can you two fuck already, and spare us all whatever this is?” 
“They already are,” Luna says, looking up from her gin and tonic with a confused expression. The table falls silent. “Oh,” she says, taking in Draco’s face. “Was that meant to be a secret? Only, you did it on my couch. And then also in your room very loudly. And also—”
“Yes alright,” Draco says primly. He adjusts the cross of his legs.
“Oh yeah…” Harry says, scratching his chin as he looks up towards the ceiling. “I knew there was something I’d forgotten.” He returns his gaze to the group. “I meant to say earlier: I’m fucking Draco Malfoy, li—” 
“If you say literally,” Ron warns him, motioning with his pint. “I’m going to finish the job You-Know-Who started.” 
Harry clamps his mouth shut. “No comment, then.”
A plucky guitar melody sounds over the pub’s speakers, followed quickly by Mariah Carey vocalising. 
Oh fuck off you fucking cunts, someone calls from across the pub. 
“What’d I miss?” Neville asks, settling back into his chair. “Has Harry figured out the lyrics yet?”
“Thank you, Neville,” Harry says, somehow managing to bow grandly whilst sitting down. “I have. It’s: the sun can’t hurt her, fellas so long.” 
“Alright,” Ron says, standing forcefully. “That’s me finished.” 
The table agrees, sinking their pints, grabbing for coats. The door closes behind them, firmly. 
It’s begun to snow in the time they were inside and Harry, the handsome yet feckless idiot, hasn’t got any mittens. Draco grabs one of his hands, shoving it in his own coat pocket. Harry’s other hand will just have to freeze and fall off. Serves him right.
They walk ahead of everyone. It’s nice, holding hands like this, where anyone could see. Where their friends could see. Harry hums to himself as they walk, hmm hmm HMM hmm. HmmhmmhmmHMMHMMhmmhmm. Draco elbows him in the side. Harry grins, hums louder.
They don’t talk. They don’t need to. For once, Draco feels no pressure to rush. No need to force years into months, weeks. There will be plenty of time for talking, in the days and nights to come. 
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