Short woman cares about you being tall? Cut.
I’ve seen this online so often….”must be over 5 ft. 10 inches.” Talk about superficial. It’s one thing if you’re a tall woman, but I’ve seen this on so many short women’s profiles.
Dear Grad Student,
First, I’d like to apologize for my behavior in our last class before Spring Break. I know you’re just doing your job when you do stuff like assign a term paper just before we all go on vacation, so standing on my chair and making the “suck it” sign was not really as funny as it was supposed to be, especially since I hadn’t noticed that you no longer had your back to me.
I realize we may have not gotten off to a great start on the first day of classes, when I careened off the lecture hall doorway and face planted in front of your desk. There was a lot more blood and vomit then I like to shed on a first day. My frat brother Harpo told me, and I don’t recall this, mind you, but apparently I went on a six minute diatribe, churning with vulgarities and the occasional bizarre sexual reference, on my complete lack of respect for TA’s in general.
My point is, these days are behind us, and I believe you and I may be able to forge a fresh, dare I say, mutually respectful TA-student relationship.
Guys under 5′5″? Cut.
–
In this spirit of Dealbreakers, here’s a column where nonpretentious contributors tell you when to cut your man or your woman.
“Film school?” Yeah, I just came from there.
Let me tell you a little bit about film school, you basement-dwelling, Netflix-hawking, Tyler Durdens, out there; challenging your friends to movie trivia contests and answering their “What was that guy from?” inquiries with a sick sense of glee.
Get there. Get there as soon as possible. For the first time, you’ll be home. You’ll bask in the warm sensation of familiarity as you are finally with others like you and you’ll get a chill of thrilling adrenaline when the full workload is bestowed upon you.
Yes. It’s like pissing your pants. Except this time, the entire auditorium isn’t laughing at you. They’re looking on sympathetically, fists in the air: “Been there, dude. Power through. Power through.”
The latest trend in the musical stylings of the world has been decided.
It’s something that we’re all familiar with. We just don’t associate it with bands, groups or even artists.
It’s called synthpop.
Owl City has become an internet sensation overnight after the release of Fireflies on the record label, Universal. Owl City is a musical project by Adam Young, a young American artist who previously published his albums under self-release.
Now, he has a tour of fifty dates and the song ‘Fireflies’ is being remixed, redubbed and replayed across the globe. It is on the playlist of every mainstream listener and every good night out has this played at least once.
Is this new sensation just a man with a beat-board and a talent for discovering beats and rhythms in songs?
Search Owl City on YouTube and one of the top results will be a featured video which was one of his first live tours and he has talents. His voice isn’t the same as the album but he is unique and that’s unusual in the musical world.
Praise where praise is due.
This sensation could mark a new passage in music.
I guess instead of penpal they should call it pen-yourself. Ha! You know, because I’m writing to myself. But that’s not entirely true either. I’m writing to you, you being my ideal imagined audience. And who is reading it in actuality is 50% a mystery to me. Which is kind of exciting, but mostly predictable. And predictability is something we seem to mostly underestimate, or ignore completely. I am more and more convinced that much of my life is completely predictable. Pushing the obvious aside, like that I will set my alarm for 8:30am tomorrow but won’t wake up till around 11am, eat a bowl of oatmeal while watching something I’ve already seen on HBO. Continue reading…
I must tell you, this isn’t going exactly how I imagined it. I really thought that by this time I would have received a response from you. But as I reflect upon it now, that’s completely ridiculous. You’re Mila Kunis! I’m some anonymous dude on the Internets. Ha! There’s so many crazies out there, it would be easy for you to just lump me in with them and never have to think about me again. So, I don’t blame you, really. Perhaps I should tell you a little bit more about myself, you know, to allay your reservations.
My real name is Kiren. Continue reading…
Dear Macmillan and other arrogant publishing companies,
I have a Kindle, first edition. I am part of a target audience for the Kindle and similar devices: I travel a lot, I’m overeducated, and an early adopter of technology (for another example, I bought my first Tivo in 2000).
Recently, there has been a lot of coverage on how the iPad and Nook allow publishers to charge more than the $9.99 that Amazon wants to charge for e-books. Amazon believes that $9.99 is a fair price for an e-book, as the royalty and distribution model don’t require much capital. Macmillan and others believe that this price point is too low, and that books should be more like $12.99-$14.99. This is absurd.
Browsing at Amazon right now, I see that NY Times bestsellers are between….yup, $12.99 and $14.99. So Macmillan would have me buy an e-book for the same price (or even more in some cases) as a hardcover book? The utility of the e-book is less than the hardcover book. I can get money back out of a hardcover book by re-selling it, I can give it to a friend, I can light it on fire and warm my hands. Based on this diminished utility, unless I only read when I travel, why would I buy an e-book? People generally like hardcover books and they don’t require a $200+ reader in order to be able to read them.
I think twice about buying a book at $9.99 unless it’s something I really want to read; at $12.99 or $14.99, I will wait for it to be $7 in a few months. I can read one of hundreds of thousands of other books in the meantime. Good luck with this totally asinine pricing.
Yours truly,
jdl
Most college students studying abroad start blogs so that they can keep in touch with friends, journal their travels, and remember the details of their experience.
Around four months ago, right after I turned in my abroad application, I decided that I wouldn’t blog when I was abroad. Despite my sister being a professional blogger (hi Melissa!) and my participation here, I knew I wouldn’t always have enough time, energy, motivation, and wit to write in a blog daily. I couldn’t and I wouldn’t. When my friends set-up their new virtual homes, picked original URLs and publishing platforms, I steadfastly stuck to my decision.
After approximately 7 days in Spain, I’ve decided that a blog is necessary to let others know what I’ve been up to and what I’m planning on doing (by others I mean, my mom, my dad, my sister, my brother (he doesn’t read so he’s not actually included), Bari, and any of you). Therefore, I will try to update this series as much as possible. *Disclaimer: Please don’t be surprised if my blog is just a compilation of all my other Seville-traveling friends’ blogs.
Until next time…here’s a quick recap of the past 7 days:
I know that’s not very interesting, but that’s all I can write for now. I’m overexhausted from the amount of walking I do daily and I must nurse my feet back to health.
Adios! Besos.
Knock Knock.
Question #16:
You are sitting in an empty bar (in a town you’ve never before visited), drinking Barcardi with a soft-spoken acquaintance you barely know. After an hour, a third individual walks into the tavern and sits by himself, and you ask your acquaintance who the new man is. “Be careful of that guy,” you are told. “He is a man with a past.” A few minutes later, a fourth person enters the bar; he also sits alone. You ask your acquaintance who this new individual is. “Be careful of that guy, too,” he says. “He is a man with no past.”
Which of these two people do you trust less?
See that man to the right? What’s his name? No, not Clint Eastwood. I mean the character. What’s his name? Can’t remember, can you? Don’t worry, your brain isn’t melting from one too many acid trips. He doesn’t have a name. He’s the Man With No Name. He has no past, and therefore no name. No one knows from whence he came and for what he keeps on keepin’ on for. He just does. He just is. And if he walked into the bar, I would leave immediately because people are gonna straight up be killed.
But you see this guy, to the left there? He does have a name. It’s William “Bill” Munny. He has a name, and a past. In his past he killed everyone. And I mean everyone, including children. If he walked into a bar, I would also leave immediately and rush home to change my diaper. Yes, if I lived in the Old West, I’d wear a diaper. But mostly because outhouses are gross. Plus scorpions are known to hide out in outhouses. And really, who’s gonna suck out that poison? No one. That’s who. NO ONE.
So it seems like I don’t have much of a choice. A man with a past, and without, can be equally terrifying. But I’ll make a decision, no cop outs ’round here. I trust the man without a past less. A man with past has a reputation, and though it’s no guarantee, it’s better than knowing nothing. And I hate knowing nothing. What do you know about it anyway?
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