I Photoshopped this for work. College!
— “Is Facebook Making Us Sad?” from Slate, an awesome/depressing/true notion excellently explained
Marina City, or The Wilco Towers
I cannot recall exactly that song that swept me into a recurring, life-long love affair with Wilco, but I’m fairly certain it was “Heavy Metal Drummer.” It’s pretty great the way Tweedy can push and pull his voice like taffy. Sometimes it’s lead-heavy with emotion, other times — like in “Drummer” — the feelings play soft as a delicate lace, stapled beneath a fuck-it canvas. But it’s always good.
(via npr)
Lea: am i looking at the dolphin or the last name “woodcock”
Lea: because I’m mostly giggling about “Woodcock”
BEAT HAPPENING: Fourteen, Beat Happening
MARC BOLAN: Sally Was An Angel, Misty Mist
It’s Sunday morning and yesterday’s snow still rests thick on the sidewalk. Somehow a bowl of grits seems like an appropriate response.
Woke up to a nice strange surprise in my inbox. I commented on a blog post over a month ago about having size 6 feet. My words didn’t suggest pride, paranoia or anger… just my shoe size. Anyway, someone thought to message me directly a settling response:
I read your message about having a problem with your small feet and wanted to let you know that it isn’t a problem for me or most guys. I think a woman with small feet looks more feminine, and because they haven’t grown a lot from childhood they tend to be more perfect and less messed up like some women’s feet. Anyway, I wanted to say that your small problem is appreciated by a lot of guys who like cute little feet on a woman!
You’re right too, size 6 is considered by the industry the size that makes the female shoe look the prettiest. Phil
Although of couse, I’m sure there are far more disturbing responses than this one. Regardless, sometimes the Internet really makes me feel like I need a shower.
Just restaging a 20year old picture. This was a xmas gift my brother and I gave to my parents last year. They were both horrified and wildly amused. It’s so perfect. But I do look kinda like an awkward pornstar. Whatevs.
No words. Well, the words above plus “wow,” maybe.
I dreamt earlier this week that I was Amy Poehler’s intern. I don’t know how one would be an intern for a sole person and not a company or trait but in this dream I was hers and I woke a little disappointed.
In the dream we also went to Cambodia. Not too sure what that has to do with being Amy Poehler, but there’s that.
(Source: illbehappywhenimdead, via bbook)