This newsletter is a weekly (sometimes) list of people I am mad at. This is the list for May 14, 2021.
EVERYONE IN HIGH SCHOOL WHO TOLD ME THEY LOVED ANIMAL COLLECTIVE WAS LYING. I TRIED LISTENING TO IT AGAIN: WHAT??????
I watched four very drunk and rather beautiful white girls in identical ripped jeans, white sneakers, curtain bangs, and their black going-out tops wolfing down dollar-slice on the subway on a Friday night with bleary red eyes and cracked cell phones. New York is healing.
Saw the words, "Finally, some cute KN95s!" on an influencer’s page, and I cannot believe that the apocalypse continues to be this stupid.
The other day, someone sent me — two times! — a blog post they wrote about how, apparently, Asian women discriminate against Asian men sexually, which is not only brand new fucking information to me, only one of three (3) people in my very large extended family who did not marry an Asian person, and also strange because I do not run the Horny Asian Women Coalition, so it’s not like this is my job to bring it up at the next conference, which will of course be held at a TGI Fridays.
People keep telling me I’m annoying as if I don’t already know. Is it not abundantly clear that 60% of my career and 90% of my personality are based on being annoying? The rule for engaging with me is that if you’re going to insult me, you have to tell me something new. Now, you can only tell me I’m irritating if attached is a factoid about the earth’s core or a tidbit about how a famous person died or a morsel about how a cult classic film was produced.
You know, it was unlikely I was ever going to move to Los Angeles, what with all my hatred for the sun, being outside, driving, talking about highways, and running into anyone I’ve seen from television, but I had to go last week for work, and had a pretty decent time until I got a breakfast sandwich from Erewhon (what is wrong with that place and why won’t they just sell me a normal-ass Coke instead of some cane-sugar six-dollar organic bullshit?) and it was inexplicably filled with eight palm-sized hunks of broccoli.
I’ve written so many letters to mayors and congresspeople around the country and yet: It inexplicably remains legal to speak to me.
I was looking at TikTok the other day and marveling at how any Gen Z kid’s self-esteem is surviving while having to watch very hot fellow 16-year-olds do little butt dances and then I remembered that I grew up with Laguna Beach so we are all tortured by the art of our generation. The complexes I have about visible hip bones could fill entire books.
The width of the thread that I am holding on by is so thin that it could pass through my extremely straight teeth (sorry to brag, it’s all I have), but I think what might do it is that the ice my freezer makes has started to taste…weird.
We haven’t talked in a while, but since the last time, I profiled Jhumpa Lahiri and wrote about how much I fucking hate Crocs.
If you have the means, please donate money to India’s COVID relief efforts, where your money is still very much needed. There’s an urgent need for oxygen tanks in Kashmir in particular, and a ton of these campaigns are accepting foreign donations; the toggle on the top right will show you where you can donate to internationally.
If you can spare a few dollars, I’d be real grateful. Many of my family members have tested positive but are currently stable, and we’re considered very lucky. A few (American or Canadian) dollars will go far for someone in India. Besides, this newsletter is free; cough up, fucko.
I'm having a kind of blah day but this post improved my mood 79%.
But... Ben Affleck???