Three months before release: Affix blurry, incomprehensible band posters to bus shelter ceilings across the city. Some posters will feature a tiny QR code in one corner. When scanned by a smartphone, the code brings up a website containing three riddles about the band. Solve all three, and that night a brick is thrown through your bedroom window with a thumb-drive taped to it. That thumb drive contains the name of the new album’s super-secret hidden…
Previous entries in the series can be found here. The sound of the tires exploding, the bottom of the car bouncing along the shoulder of the road, the screeching sound that comes with a vehicle out of control: none of that was enough to bring me out of my blackout. My car had veered off the interstate into the grass that separated it from the walled community on the other side. I…
Previous installments of “Feel the Burn” can be found here. Let's talk a little bit about when you're not exercising. Maybe that's today! Maybe it's been a few weeks. Maybe forever. I, personally, am really in thrall to the idea of systems and resolutions and I'll-get-in-there-four-days-a-week and by-May-I-should-be-doing-five-pull-ups and things like that, which is so, so detrimental to actually trying to move your body around. I have to work on it, honestly. It's something…
“Didn’t end well.” Punch line. Laughing. I got 'em, no question. I’m off the stage now and left on a high note. It’s not always this good, though. I’m addicted to the people, to the laughs, the spotlight, the stage. I dunno, it’s a natural high. Keeps me off the other shit, I guess.
My first gig? Total bust. Got booed off. Two lemons hit me on the way down. Yep. Then, like a…
I am perfectly aware that in more rural parts of the world, eating roadkill is not terribly uncommon, and I have no quarrel with this practice. And yet: this man Arthur Boyt clearly has a basement full of skulls. From Der Spiegel: Proper preparation is especially important because some of the animals he finds have been dead for a few weeks. You can just pick off the maggots and worms, he says, and still enjoy…
Noemie walked briskly along the sidewalk. The rain had stopped an hour ago, but the street was still wet. The empty storefronts and fallen garbage cans echoed the click-clack-scrap of her heels striking against the concrete, and the thwick-thwok of her boots picking up the dew that stuck to warm streets on cold nights. She tightened her coat with one hand and held a cigarette in the other, throwing a glance behind her before crossing…
Jonathan Anthony Williamston Dunwith-Cable III was probably the most hetero guy you could ever hope to meet. Biddies? He’s bagged 'em all. Cash? He’s never strapped. Jonathan A.W. Dunwith-Cable III knows he’s disarmingly attractive and often spends a good fifteen minutes each evening shooting finger guns in the mirror and repeating words of affirmation like, “Hey, congrats. You did a really good job looking amazing today.” So it’s really no surprise that Jonathan Dunwith-Cable III,…
It seemed to me that as I cast my mind over the Victorian- and Regency-era adventure novels of my youth, the delicate male protagonists spent almost as much time drifting into unconsciousness as they did naming new species or describing what remained of their provisions. We may never know why men used to faint so often in novels, but we can at least count how many times it happened. Therefore I have taken it upon myself…
Okay, let's talk about Ronan Farrow being Frank Sinatra's son, and about how Dylan Farrow is now talking openly about what she remembers of Woody Allen, because we're all having such a good time with the first part, and the second part is a PRETTY BIG DEAL too.
Let us be frank: your LinkedIn endorsement means nothing to me, you disgusting and withered old sot. I neither solicited nor encouraged your endorsement in any way, and the idea that you think I require your stamp of approval in order to succeed in my chosen field is laughable. I find you to be beneath contempt. You would not know project management skills if project management skills set your house on fire in the middle…
If it’s true that you only live once, why waste even a second of your time saying, YOLO?
* For those who believe in reincarnation—the Hindus, the Buddhists, etc.—YOLO is, at best, a delusion, at worst, a blasphemous lie. Because of this, believers in reincarnation often say “No YOLO” after making a comment that could be construed as believing this life is the all there is. Example: "I want to experience all
Well, "could" is relative. But I like to spend a little time every day scrounging through the market finds at One King's Lane (also to find things for rich idiots), looking for gems, which I occasionally buy and then sit on and give away as presents. I mean, it's online, which means that "scrounging" is "scrolling," but sometimes you click and it's already "in another member's cart," which adds the allure of the chase.
This is a love letter to the inner city. This is a love letter to a concept of Chicago that is constantly under attack. This is a love letter to the people in the hood who raised me, sustained me, and supported me. I've been trying to write about Chicago violence for a good two months now. The facts are easy to obtain from any major news source, though the way in which those facts…
Previously: The Celebrity Vists Africa. The celebrity has visited an orphanage. The orphanage is in a country far away from this country, the normal one that we live in. A sad country, with monsoons and poverty. An embedded reporter from The Toast was given exclusive access to the celebrity as he or she roamed the orphanage grounds, stopping occasionally to take photographs with the orphans, all of whom clustered around him or her, smiling for the camera. Below…
