Sometimes I think our society is on the verge of complete collapse, and then sometimes I know it is. It's all here: "the rich history of Hell's Kitchen" (still the only place I've seen a person killed, but 8th Avenue restaurants and shopping are the shit), Empanada Mama, the Pay-o-Matic. I'll say it again: people are capital-K KRAZY.
Pitch his tents? What? Stupid funny. This guy's a preacher, and he's tweaking, that's what he's doing. The comments are funny too. (Via Dooce.)
I love Kevin Smith, in that "I don't really love him but 'deeply admire' just sounds weird'" kind of way, and I like reading his blog. He's chattin' you up about all of his movies now. Fun.
Speaking of love, I'm mildly obsessed with Lush bath bombs right now, especially this one. I went to the mall exactly once before Christmas and once after, and Lush has a new store that I got sucked into for a post-holiday sale. The freaky faux-handwriting and vibe of the store unnerved me, plus names like Bling Crosby and Haagen Bath are offensive on principle. But still, sales on bath bombs (yes, bath bombs. Sorry.) will cause me to compromise them. The principles, that is.
Is it morally bankrupt to admit that I want to be wealthy so I can have all of this, including a tower of 8-core power that I don't even need? I want it NOW.
Jerks selling way-overpriced tickets to the WAY-underpublicized Wilco show at the 9:30 Club. Thanks, 9:30 Club. Over at Craigslist, dude is trading his Nano for a ticket.
Patrick/Bad News Hughes does Christmas right, again. He's all growed up, though, so this one is a little more...sedate, if you will. 2005 makes me cry, as I laugh. Seriously. Pick up his book. I'm on it for myself.
Finally, in case you were walking around with that false sense of security today, silly silly you, a teenager in Poland who hasn't seen the light of day in a very, very long time hacked the public tram system. Don't worry. Only four trams were derailed.
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