When I was growing up, there was this book floating around our house called Speaking Southern Like It Should Be Spoke, and it was more or less a dictionary of Southernisms. What I can’t say for sure is whether or not it was mean or nice. Like, was it playful self-parody, or mean razzing from the outside? I’m not sure, and it’s even harder to tell since I can’t really find much out about that…
I have a real hard-on for this band lately: Also, I can’t stop using the phrase “I have a real hard-on.” This is problematic for obvious reasons. It’ll pass…
Did y’all see that story that caused Matt Drudge’s latest scandalgasm? The one where the white campaign worker in Pittsburgh claimed she was attacked by a black man who became enraged when he saw a McCain sticker on her car, and pounced on her, beat the crap out of her, then carved a B into her cheek? Yeah. That story, didja see it? Well, guess what. She made it up! HT: Sully, who also calls…
Internet, if you are not periodically checking up on Sexy People, then I don’t know what to do with you. The amazing diversity of the human form and professional photo studio backdrop is absolutely astonishing.
Click to embiggenate Many days, I like to snort a big fat line of newspaper nerdery and check out the day’s front pages at Newseum. And some days, I notice that The Tennessean‘s page is all wacky, like the file got corrupted or something during its trip from the Nashville office to the Newseum office in D.C. Today was no different, except that I found the Nashville paper’s design to be delightfully trippy and abstract…
I find cracking open a pumpkin and scooping out its guts to be soothing and meditative on the level of peeling pomegranates. It’s not always been this way; when I was little, I’d balk at the concept of gutting my own pumpkin and make mom do it. But now? If I want that pumpkin to have a face, I have to get it done myself, guts and all. The process has become so familiar now…
This is what I heard just a couple of hours ago out behind my apartment. What’s up for interpretation is whether or not these cat noises are aggressive … or amorous. What’s not up for interpretation is that I have GOT to get a better video camera that doesn’t allow for that constant random vibrating background noise. And also? That my cats totally want in on that feral feline action. The sweet sound of urban…
Last night I dreamed that I had awesome clandestine closet sex with Barack Obama at a party. And then I felt really, really bad for doing such a thing to Michelle.
You must be logged in to post a comment.