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When It’s This Good There’s No Saying No…

May 5, 2010

Things around the webs I’ve been enjoying. As always, PLEASE give feedback on the respective sites. People love feedback, particularly if it’s to tell them how awesome they are. Seriously. They love it.

Tashie of Red Vinyl Shoes and IFMiB has a slamming post entitled My Kind of Crazy:

I was diagnosed with “bipolar I, mixed, rapid cycling w/ psychotic features” in May of my 14th year. I was hospitalized for the first of 7 times of my life in response to the first in two attempts at suicide. Not at all intentionally, I failed at my suicide attempt shortly after Kurt Cobain was successful at his. So when they brought the psych consult in at the emergency room, he asked me if I had done this because of Kurt Cobain. I was very annoyed, because I was a rabid Pearl Jam fan and while I did like Nirvana I really thought people should focus on Eddie Vedder more. Did I mention I was desperately hot for him at that point? Because I was. Anyway, back to the story

    Also check out her post Black Tea, White Translator:

    I’ve never found myself so vehemently agreeing with a middle aged white dude, in fact, it was kind of scary. On the one hand, I’m really glad the topic of what the reaction would be to the Tea Party if it was comprised of people of color was brought up and discussed, but on the other — why did it take a middle aged white dude with a book coming out for the topic to be relevant? Because regular every day people of color have been noticing and saying that shit for a while now. There is NO WAY a black man could EVER spit on a white Congressman and yell a racial slur at them without being taken down by like 10 security guards in 0.5 seconds.

Yours truly wrote about heist films in a little post called New Frontiers in Business Management: Heist Films where I saved you a few dollars you were gonna spend on bidness school and steered you toward twenty bucks worth of DVDs instead:

Rigorously investigate your key people

A strong team is the key to successfully running a business, if your intention involves anything other than running that business into the ground. Before you can get fancy office furniture or plan your escape to a country without an extradition agreement with the states, you might want to avoid hiring hard headed, sociopaths whose stupidity then becomes your downfall. Unfortunately for the CEO of The Bank Heist, Robert DeNiro, this was a lesson learned the hard way. If you need to beat the shit out of one of your top executives to keep them on message, you’ve made a poor hiring choice.

Raymond J wrote a fantagical post – with a killer illustration by PopLife – called Murphy Brown Crown of Glory. Seriously, about Murphy Brown’s awesome winged hair:

Some people feel compelled to run their fingers through someone’s follicles, as some sort of gesture of affection, but I was raised Southern, I never saw this happen anywhere but in movies that had been filmed in the 70s. Murphy Brown’s big immovable crown of glory was a different type of Impervious Hair that I have never encountered before, and so that is what has stayed with me long past the expired sitcom time capsule of the 90s, and should I ever find the right investors, will be the muse for my new television channel of syndication rights found in the bargain bin.

Sady F. Doyle’s of Tiger Beatdown most definitely is my kind of saint. She has got some jokes, bitches. Her take down of a dude named Freddie Boner is chock filled with LULZ.

There are a few answers to this question, Freddie. The first is that I am never, ever, EVER going to fuck you, and Amanda has had a boyfriend for approximately forever as I understand it, and I have a boyfriend TOO but would STILL avoid fucking you were that not the case, so you REALLY don’t need to worry about how this theoretical feminist date of ours might go. It would always end with you not getting fucked, is the answer. From the massively whingy tone of your post, I get the sense that this is not an unfamiliar experience. But if there were something I could do for you that was the OPPOSITE of fucking you, I might do that. Like, maybe feed you saltpeter so that your all-important feminist erection ceases to exist and/or become a determining factor for how you will allow women to talk about their own oppression: I would do that, on your magical Fantasy Date With Sady. Because dudes like you make me understand ladies like Valerie Solanas, for real. Because when I think about the above paragraph, my pussy fucking ceases to produce all moisture, possibly forever. You are, Freddie, as far as I am concerned, literally unfuckable by any stretch of the imagination. So, there’s that question, answered.

Feminist Music Geek has a great post up about Lorrie Moore – the writer’s writer. Check it out right on here:

I also related to Keltjin’s somewhat decorative humanities-based education, though I’d like to think that the undergraduate courses I took in copy editing, media management, women’s history, and rock culture prepared me for the professional life I’m plotting out. They certainly were more useful to me than Keltjin’s wine-tasting class, though I’d probably teach the course she takes on war movie soundtracks. And as I strolled the terminal alone, I got a sense for Keltjin’s isolation. I’ll say no more on the synopsis, other than offer my recommendation and spend the remainder of the post focusing on a peripheral but integral aspect of the protagonist’s characterization: Keltjin’s musicianship.


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