. . . well, that’s a fetish I didn’t know I had.

I live in an older New England home, and the amount of junk we’ve found buried around our house is ridiculous. Old clothes irons, an entire locking mechanism for a door, broken china, etc.

Counterpoint, Phil Collins sucks and good bands should stop covering him. It was wrong when the Postal Service did it, and this is wrong as well.

No need to read the full piece.

As someone who adores my partner, an RN in a very busy ER, I just want to say fuck that nurse who turned them in. I hope he/she catches every miserable infectious disease that passes though their department.

I’m having some trouble here.

Wrong. What makes you feel old is trying to remember the name of any of the actors on that show for five minutes and drawing a complete blank (it probably doesn’t help that I never watched it).

(Between you and me, I don’t get all of this driveway-repaving, window-treatment shit. I own a house - an old Victorian - but those types of things are not even on my ever-to-do list. Try hoping the furnace lives through the winter, or shuddering at the thought that all that exterior peeling paint is eventually going…

No.

I dig fonts, and I generally agree with the point you’re trying to make, but definitely not with the New Yorker font. It’s too closely associated with that specific brand, so of course any headline in that font will appear more serious/important than the alternative you used. It’s just not a good font choice to prove…

My takeaway: Hal Linden is still alive?!?

I’ve got nothing as far as the actual post goes, but I do want to say that I appreciate the illustration. Sure as hell beats lame teaser snake stills.

Phrasing, . . . trigger warning, . . . I dunno, but somethings missing from this post, and now I’m very sorry I clicked.

Paul Robeson.

In a time when tarot cards and witchcraft seem trendier than ever[. . .]

I’m also getting ready to release my 24th fragrance

“Our sex life is a little, um, weak these days? You know what I’m talking about and you need to figure it out. I love you; call a doctor.”

In what area of the country is this possible?!? Manhattan? L.A.? Out here in non-big city New England, it’s more like “we don’t take your insurance,” “our first opening is in 3 months,” or “sorry, we’ve decided to become a baby goat-yoga studio.”

No slip ons? That is a seriously hot take.

I Am Sam?!?