I’d even back up over him to do it again.
I’d even back up over him to do it again.
This is it exactly. Its very easy to sit behind a keyboard in Washington DC, typing about how a middle-class family in Houston are monsters for not carrying about Beirut. However, that middle-class family is much more likely to have family and friends in France, or have visited Paris - precisely because it hasn’t been…
I have lived in both Burundi and Beirut. I’ve been posting about both and have made panicked calls to friends several times in the last weeks. It is precicely because of ongoing violence that I have been posted to these locations - I work on conflict and peace building. These ongoing conflicts are part of the reason…
Waiting to see you so detached when it happens in your home country.
I’ve been seeing this shit on my Facebook all day. Thing is - I post articles about Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, Kenya, Burundi. And not ONE of the people complaining has ever liked or commented on those articles. It’s not that the media isn’t covering those stories. It’s that nobody cares.
We mourn everyone. Ok, asshole? I am so sick of the constant complaints about how we shouldn’t discuss Americans or the Paris attack because we haven’t discussed every goddamn horror that happens in this world at length. Give it a goddamn rest.
No. But this article is about the tragic death of a college student at the hands of terrorists. Not an appropriate article to start talking about the massacre in Beruit. And if you can’t see that, then there is something wrong with you.
So many young people were killed. They picked a really popular part of town. Punishing people for having fun, at restaurants, a rock concert, a soccer stadium.
I think most people eventually learn that their parents, particularly their mothers, are not the most objective source for such information. My mother thinks I’m so beautiful that she’s convinced I could have modeled (I’m 5’3”) or been a movie star. “You look like Natalie Portman, but prettier!” (Ed. note: No I…
If I wanted to make my husband stare at me strangely and go “What are you wearing” yes, I would buy one of those outfits.
I hate this attitude that talking about money is vulgar. Yeah, it can be if people are bragging or using it to push other people down. If it’s a frank discussion about what everyone is making and where people stand in a company, than we need to have that talk.
I can’t find an image or a video, but Kate Winslet’s response reminds me of Ingrid DeForest from Eagleton telling Ben Wyatt that “we don’t like to talk about money. We find it a little gauche.”
Ben: This is a budget meeting.
Gross. I grew up with live in nannies. They were all 18-21 and cute. My father managed not to fuck them because he wasn’t a piece of human garbage, and his lifetime commitment to my mother meant something to him. I honestly don’t recall him even looking at them inappropriately. He treated them professionally, and…
They are wealthy enough to have great expectations for their kids, but poor enough to not have all the tools to get them meet those expectations (ie right preschool, right private school, right college, right connections for jobs).
That’s what I always heard; that she wasn’t a physical beauty but rather her charm and intelligence that made her so desirable.
The best thing about her is how Plutarch complained that she wasn’t really a beauty to look at, it was her ability to speak that gave her so many admirers, “It was a pleasure merely to hear the sound of her voice, with which, like an instrument of many strings, she could pass from one language to another; so that…
The writing on that one is the BEST. I lost it at fleeing the great Fucks Famine of 2015.
OH GOD. I haven’t even finished reading but that Funky Town story has brought actual tears to my eyes.
Apparently just before menopause the body goes ‘fuck it’ and releases all the remaining eggs. So you can get a period of super fertility. "Last chance girls!"
I’m so tired of my curly hair not being “nice” or “professional” enough. It’s so ridiculous that curly hair has some kind of weird value attached to it.