July 2010
31 posts
The next Weird Al?
“Jersey Shore Guidos” (to the tune of Katy Perry’s “California Gurls”)
I know a place where the skin is really orange
Slick, tan and drunk, there must me something in the hair gel
Blow outs like these, take seven hours just to get right
Reppin’ Italy, we eat lasagna every ni-ight
You could travel the world
But nothing comes close to the Jersey Shore
When you party with us, you’ll be roofied for sure
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Chorus:
Jersey Shore guidos, we’re going tanning
Jorts on bottom, hairless on top
Sexy guids so ripped we’ll crush your face in!
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Jersey Shore guidos, let’s pump some iron
Ed Hardy shirts are our favorite to wear
East Coast represent, now beat the beat up.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.
What It's Really Like To Be A Copy Editor →
theawl.com
I never necessarily aspired to be a copy editor. I enjoyed the experience—seriously, your job is to sit and read articles—but when my day-camp counselor asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I did not tell her that I hoped one day to correct who-whom mix-ups or determine whether “faucetry” was a real, dictionary-approved word. I told her I wanted to be a princess.
Play
Things My Neighbor Dropped
and subsequently abandoned in the hallway while moving out:
- dish towel
- chunks of black dog fur
- USB cord
- shards of red plastic, perhaps from a pitcher?
- one pink Croc
- lemon wedge
Can’t say I’m sad to see her go.
“Do not write about what you know — write about the things that will not let you go.”
—
Tony Parsons
(via Spectator.co.uk)
Shutting Themselves In →
nytimes.com
One morning when he was 15, Takeshi shut the door to his bedroom, and for the next four years he did not come out. He didn’t go to school. He didn’t have a job. He didn’t have friends. Month after month, he spent 23 hours a day in a room no bigger than a king-size mattress, where he ate dumplings, rice and other leftovers that his mother had cooked, watched TV game shows and listened to Radiohead and Nirvana.
The Cubicle Next Door
- Lady 1: I just love that you know someone named Siegfried … in real life … that doesn’t own a tiger.
- Lady 2: Well, he’s German.
