it's hard to argue with that.
this is definitely my show.
those are my loyal, interrogative girlfriendz.
those are my classic mom and food jokes.
those are my pink, feminine leaves blown across the screen in my sexually empowered breeze.
hell, that's even my sassy, middle-aged font at the end.
BUT WHERE'S MY ADORABLE AND EMOTIONALLY SUPPORTIVE PET?!
either someone has a laptop
or someone's going to be spending an awkward amount of time at an LA public library computer station (NO PORN OR ONLINE GAMBLING)
or maybe someone's about to merge with the mainframe and become pure energy*.
*something like 1.9*10^21 Joules of pure energy, given 40% efficiency (generous!) in conversion and assuming i'm write about your weight, you feeble old man. That's a lot of energy!!! Don't spend it all in one place!!!
This is a crucial lesson for Roman. It's important to realize that (good deed + bad deed) ~= no deed. I learned a similar lesson in my childhood, but it was more like (good smell + bad smell) ~= no smell. Hoo boy did i get a whoopin when i learned that lesson.
Also, I hope Roman's jail cell has enough room for all of his time traveler of the year awardz!!!
In your defense, I would say that is probably worth pointing out. AN INTERESTING FACT!!!! LEGALLY RELEVANT MAYBE!!!
But not morally relevant. Dude admitted to raping a child.
I sat through an episode with my roommates (BIG FANZ!@!!!!) and decided to laugh every time the laugh track went off. I did a lot of laughing!! This must be a very funny show!!!
Also, my roommates don't watch tv with me anymore.
In my head, I picture Gabe planning his harsh indictment of the alien scientists' misuse of the basic scientific principles of experimentation by slowly and confusedly chanting the steps of the scientific method out loud, ala Mark Wahlberg in The Happening.
Woah, hey those are nice.
If you're willing to upgrade to the Ikon line, Padma and I are definitely in.
Sisterhood of the Traveling Wüsthof Classic Ikon 8-Piece Knife Block Set Pants?
My friend*, you put the monster in monsters ball. So that makes you responsible for, like, 7/12 of the terrible that goes on here. Also, that leaves only balls for the rest of us.
*Not friends!!
"This whole argument is just a little reminiscent of the sentiment that rich people have no right to be sad or depressed."
I hope that wasn't a shot at me. Don't TEST ME hlebtastic
But either way, i think we can agree that sure is a silly sentiment. Why would anyone speak about emotions in term of rights? That seems a pretty strange category mistake. Pass the byzantine, my quesadilla needs school spirit.
Also, SUNNY!!!!!
In a made for tv movie, Elian Gonzalez does his part for the Young Communist League of Cuba by copy-editing their website and by making a nametag for all 600,000 members, each labelled merely "Comrade".
I apologize; perhaps I rant too vaguely.
I don't mean to imply that my pain, suffering and sadness (and those of others in my demographic) are undeserved, inconsequential, or unreal. They are very much real. They are very much consequential. They're my feelings; I feel them, and I can't help it.
Yet, I can't help but find them trivial. This may be a bit irrational, but i find myself thinking 'who the hell am i to be unhappy/suffering?' My gripes feel like the punchline of that louis ck joke, with me staring at my phone in disgust as my text takes a moment to get back from space.
So yeah, sometimes i am dissatisfied and unhappy and sad. Which is fine. I'm entitled to feel these things, like anyone else.
But i am unable to justify my dissatisfaction: I have never experienced any sort of misfortune; my life is charmed and entitled as hell - despite me, independent of me; I realize that I am in the process of living one of the most enviable, comfortable lives of anyone ever.
I have every reason to be happy, and I can't help but despise myself for being a wretched, ungrateful heel when i'm not.
And it doesn't even matter to me whether others find my suffering justifiable. It only matters whether I do. And for the most part, I don't. Justification isn't about demographics - as I unwittingly implied - it's about relative suffering. And I've relatively suffered nothing at all.
My issue with Catcher, then, is that holden represents, to me, a contemptible version of myself who finds life miserable and who isn't big enough to hate himself for that (no emo).
Anyway, I did not intend to project my struggle with the self-justification of my unhappiness onto the rest of you. Sorry.
SERIOUSGUM OUT
ouch. i didn't mean to imply that everyone who enjoys Catcher and identifies with holden are/were self-indulgent misanthropes. but there it is.
sorry, hlebtastic.
let's paint, exercise, and ignore the sloth with the yogurt cup on his head.
I was probably 14/15. But not self-indulgent enough to feel justified by holden.
sure, i identified with him, but only to the extent that he embodied everything i hated about myself at that age: channeling his illusory disaffection and alienation into misanthropic whining, complaining, nonproductivity.
what do young, intelligent, middle class, white, american males have to feel disaffected about? what kind of meaningful suffering or adversity have either of us ever encountered?
to me, holden has always represented the worst kind of entitled self-indulgence. the embodiment of everything i shouldn't be and of exactly how i shouldn't view my place in the world.
Great book. Does exactly what it ambitiously set out to do. But it read more like The Your A Terrible Person in the Rye.
I felt this way about Catcher in the Rye. JD Salinger Awesome Book, Great Job! capturing the misanthropy of entitled teenagers.
But i don't like misanthropic entitled teenagers! And I fucking hate reading about them!
this post should have one of those age-verification schemes for those of us yet too young to drink (or rent grain augers!).
guess i'll have to make other plans tonight. curl up with a Kidz Bop, a box of Dunkaroos, and a well-worn copy of Shiloh Season.
My mom does this to me, but it's scaled up because i'm an ADULT.
And by scaled up i mean KFC Double Down Chicken sandwiches. She's all "you can eat your bacon and cheese sandwich with friend chicken instead of bread right now, or you can wait 5 minutes for me to go to KFC and get you another bacon and cheese sandwich with fried chicken instead of bread and then have two later."
And i'm all 'NOW!!!'. It's always now.
I, too, started to see robert pattinson during my dangerous feats of sporting prowess. I saw him everywhere: at the go-cart track. in the above ground pool. on the mall walking path.
But there weren't any aquiline-nosed, shirtless wolf men to warn and comfort me.
So, that's when i started huffing.
my facebook friend about Kanye: "WHAT A DOUCHEBAG. seriously.
that's so stupid that he cannot just keep his mouth shut.
i love taylor. obviously, if she won, she deserved it...the ppl voted and that's that. idc if he doesn't think it's right."
me: "THE AMERICAN PEOPLE R INFALLIBLE WHEN IT COMES 2 VOTING N 2 SANDWHICHES WITH CHICKEN AS BREAD!!! - attributed to both Warren G Harding and Rod Blagojevich"
I suppose this only works if we actually participate, but damn do i not want to watch this.
also, that john stuart mill treatise isn't going to distractedly read itself!
yet as someone who uses both mediums, i'd say pictures definitely have a higher upvote per unit effort (science!) than text.
they're simply more lucrative.
maybe because everyone 'reads' these comments when they're scrolling down the page - greater market penetration?
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