We, too, once swam over 3,000 miles down the Amazon. Except it was more like the Willamette, for ten miles, and we actually didn't leave the boat. But the delirium thing definitely happened.
04/09One fateful night, Refined Taste and Youthful Abandon got drunk and did the nasty. The condom broke and they made a baby. That's us, and we're The Shit.
We, too, once swam over 3,000 miles down the Amazon. Except it was more like the Willamette, for ten miles, and we actually didn't leave the boat. But the delirium thing definitely happened.
04/09Word's don't—nay, can't—describe. Apparently Jeezy even ad-libs in interviews.
04/08Gee, this totally doesn't make up for the fact that Paddy still hasn't finished the third volume of his memoirs.
04/05It's definitely about the free booze.
04/05So now he's picking on girls? We are convinced that The Game has become the Hank Kingsley of hip hop.
04/05Martha Stewart is so powerful that she sends Jews to Hell.
04/04UPDATE: We don't know what to believe in this whole Keef matter.
04/04$%*(&@#! MOVABLE TYPE I WILL KILL YOU!!!!
04/04Sure, we've been reading blogs for half a decade, but it's hard when you're just starting to do one yourself. If you want to do it right (i.e. not on Blogger), you've got to be functioning at a basic level of technological proficiency, and until recently we were kind of like a remote-less Tracy Morgan shouting "Pornography!" at television sets. (Why don't they just show you porn when you want them to?) It's been an effing chore figuring out Movable Type, learning CSS, trying to design shit, etc. Anyways, we've spent so much time working out the technological kinks that we've hardly been able to figure out what the hell this blog is supposed to be about, and how we're supposed to write it. So we turn to sites like Gawker to understand just how we should be generating content. And guess what, it turns out we only have to write something once, and then we can use it again. How great is that!
Yesterday, Gawker lobbed one of their customary snarkbombs in the direction of someone who is currently either modish or just generally ubiquitous -- it doesn't really matter who it was this time -- leading off with this straight-faced salute to some place called the Old Town Bar:
So long as we are in town, we have a standing Sunday lunch date at Old Town Bar. We don't live too far from the place, but that's not what makes it our regular Sunday afternoon stop. It symbolizes pretty much everything that once was New York. The burger is far better than it needs to be and the pours are generous and the bar-wenches are surly with hearts of gold; were we restricted to one tavern for the rest of our lives, this would be it.What follows are three quick sentences of that rich Gawker wit, in which a pseudo-celebrity is disparaged! We weren't laughing too hard to notice a link to an earlier post, which leads off with this straight-faced salute to some place called the Old Town Bar:
So long as we are in town, we have a standing Sunday lunch date at Old Town Bar. We don't live too far from the place, but that's not what makes it our regular Sunday afternoon stop. It symbolizes pretty much everything that once was New York. From the amazing pressed-tin ceiling, to the now-disabled service-call buttons in the booths, to the fact that the men's and women's rooms are on different floors, you cannot help but feel transported to an earlier era upon entrance. The burger is far better than it needs to be and the pours are generous and the bar-wenches are surly with hearts of gold; were we restricted to one tavern for the rest of our lives, this would be it.This time, however, it's serious: someone affiliated with said bar has croaked. Sad. But look at that: cut out a few sentences, add a quick "joke," and voilá! A blog entry! And you don't even have to pretend like you didn't recycle most of it: the fact that you recycled the previous post for the "joke" is the joke.
Oh ho! That is rich.
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