Hello Everyone. It’s been quite a week, so I’m here to soothe all your pain. I have a great drink for you all that’s sure to take the edge off of finals. It’s quick and easy to make and it’ll have you feeling some kind of way. That’s for sure. So without further to do here it is:
Well. Here you go. Play it while you cry. Play it while you make love. Play it while you take finals. Play it after you take finals. Play it while you nervously pick at your acne scabs infront of your crush. Ok I’ve said too much. bye. go.
Snapchat. What an app. The faceless ghost mediates flirty interactions, double chin selfies, and everything else us “youths” are up to these days. Snapchat has created a space for budding narcissists to perfect the use of the dog filter, amateur film majors to master the art of a 10 second video, and superficial friends to strive for a 100 day snap streaks. This godly creation must be celebrated because pure, unadulterated joy can only truly be found by watching someone else’s snapchat story, as you eat Cool Ranch Doritos in bed, and have fomo. Continue reading
Meet Sparkles! She’s a shelter cat from the cat café “Eat Purr Love” in Columbus, Ohio. This gal in particular is pending adoption, but if you’re looking for cat companionship, Eat Purr Love is a great place to check out whether you’re looking to adopt, or looking for an hour or two of cat-filled love.
Lit Lit is a new segment I will be hosting in which I get someone lit, and then that someone chooses a work of literature and gives me a summary and quick discussion of the themes of that work. This week I had the pleasure of getting a friend of mine lit, who will be referred to throughout as Nasty Willow, to discuss Mary Shelley’s classic Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus. I was joined by another companion who chose to go by “Mary Shelley’s Lesbian Lover,” as we discussed the work in a sunny graveyard. Nasty Willow’s dialogue is in Times New Roman, all action is written in italics.
Victor Frankenstein….that’s not how the book starts. Begin–We’re on a ship. And it’s a series of letters from. Arctic explorer? Robert Walton! Okay.