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Well, on the surface, it’s just 60-3, so clearly divisible by 3 itself. Now 221, that’s some fuckery.
Funny you should say that. Near the end of WSB’s 1953 novel “Junkie”, IIRC, the main protagonist complains that he doesn’t understand the slang of the new generation anymore. For example their use of “that stinks!”
You can buy puff pastry, ready to be filled, in stores. We used to do that a lot. Just blend all scraps and spices we could find around the kitchen, put them into the pastry, shape it and bake it in the oven. Totally delicious.
Oh look, it’s male Anna Kendrick.
Can’t stand the staleness. Apart from the frigging bots and automods, it feels like a bunch of boring, shallow, sated establishment guys that like “pretending that one could be hip with a mortgage payment,” as Bela Koe-Krompecher once put it.
Holiday evenings be like:
Workday evenings be like:
Yeah I guess it’s always been this way. Does anyone remember the Captain Oblivious mp3 “mixtapes” he used to put out regularly, like 20 years ago? Indie and underground music. Rule of thumb, I would listen to only about 1 in 20 songs more than once.
Jubilee is coming. Whether that’s good or not in your book probably depends on whether you are a devout Catholic, but its certainly a rare event.