December 2010
8 posts
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The weather outside is moderate, but the...
Off I go to sit in a spot with this as my view and ongoing drinks served to me from any hour until any other hour. Also, cookies. And some lovable people that I rarely see. I enjoy these little jaunts because I am sentimental and festive, but also because I barely leave my parents’ house. My shopping is done. I don’t think I have to say anything about my “love” of winter...
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A special message
I don’t want to be all weepy or angry, but I just need to say a few things.
1. People who buy books for Christmas are the greatest people in the world and deserve great gifts in return and make everything better and do indeed make me a little fucking weepy.
2. People who buy cheap disposable crap as gifts are most likely jerks.
3. The above group might be illiterate.
4. Said above...
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Holiday harlot
As a child I had the usual holiday anxieties: stress over my levels of naughty and nice, stress over the amount of presents under the tree, disappointment at having to play a shepherd again and not the staring role of Mary (when clearly, I was more of a performer, c’mon Mrs. _______), and the logical fear of Santa Claus.
As a pre-school child nothing upset me more at Christmas time than...
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Nominees on their knees
The beginning of awards season is upon us. It’s upon us, hovering over us, as we sprawl on the bed sheets with excitement, like the lover we’ve missed all these long months. Gentle and a relief at first, then you remember some weird shit they like to do with a pillow and it starts to become complicated.
This morning’s Golden Globe nominations illustrate this perfectly. I want...
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In the spirit of Christmas
Yes, in the spirit of Christmas I am currently mean-girling a woman over 20 years my senior. To be fair, this woman is an adult bully. I rarely have real enemies, but at this place and time, I’ve acquired a worthy adversary. And for the most part, she’s winning this battle, mostly because I have few methods of retaliation. Also, she is rich. The worst kind to fight against.
Also,...
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Seasonal barf
Every Christmas, the creepy Rupert Annual comes out and brings my rage out in full force. To a reasonable person, there is probably little reason to hate on this seemingly innoucous bear and his gang, but not me.
Rupert and his dirtbag friends think they are stylish, but they are not. Wearing a waiscoat and tweed doesn’t guarantee a post on The Sartorialist. Perhaps, my terror upon...