Do you think Citibank had to ask Depeche Mode’s permission?

Kenley Collins is like a perfect cross between Veronica (as in “Betty and”) and Monica Lewinsky (in a hot way) and I love her.

Some experiences defy blog-description, either because they are so ineffable and transcendent that they exceed the reach of words or because they are super fucking boring to hear about.  Or a combo platter.   Anyway, this thing.  It goes through the end of August.

A Radar commenter points out that Joni Mitchell wrote the original impressionistic, disillusioned party report.

I was listening to that song last night (um, what are the odds) and it got me started thinking about going to people’s parties, even though actually yes, there is a rule on the Internet that once Choire has weighed [...]

Yesterday morning I was walking to the LIRR when I crossed paths with a Mormon teenager who was handing out postcards about God on the corner and each one came with a free granola bar.  I took the granola bar and the postcard and at the next trash can I threw away the postcard.  Then, [...]

Well, here’s the thing: you can’t work at home. Certainly you have a desk there, and some books, and internet access, and plenty of working electrical outlets. Probably you also have food and water and a bathroom. That’s not enough. You’ll find that you’ll be willing to sacrifice any number [...]

Fully three of these dreams are mine — none of the sex ones, however!  Also, for a while last summer I had a recurring dream that Choire had a really high fever and I had to nurse him back to health.  Hmmm.

* Oh look, the Observer has been rendered obsolete!

*Achewood genius Chris Onstad tells one of the New Yorker’s many, many blogs that some people aren’t impressed by his career: “It is a permanent problem, describing what you do when you do an obscure comic. I tell people I’m a cartoonist, and if they press me [...]