Yesterday, Haley had sent me to the library since I've never read any Zadie Smith (I know!! I know!!!!!!!!). I asked Twitter for some additional recommendations, and they gave me more stuff than I could read in a lifetime, so I wanted to share it with you: These Are the Books that My Twitter Followers Think You Should Read. You'll Never Guess What Comes Next. (Books.)
Consider it your holiday homework assignment (after The Pillow Book, obviously). I ended up checking out Changing My Mind, by Zadie Smith, Salvage the Bones, by Jesmyn Ward, and, of course, the crown jewel— Simon and Garfunkel: The Biography, by [...]
Previously: The Heartland Pie
Ann Friedman is sorry this pie is so mean and understands if you need to unfollow immediately as a result.
If you’re a lady who occasionally spouts the odd homage to gender equality and you’re considering existing on the internet, you’re in for a surprise. Some people already don’t like your stupid lady face. They think you’re going to come in and spill cosmopolitan all over the xhtml while laughing too loudly, ruining everything. Before we go further, answer these three questions:
a) Do you believe in having autonomy over your body?
b) Have you ever had a margarita?
c) Have you read a forum on hair removal in the last 12 months?
They’re going to hate you.
Consider using one of these preemptive internet avatars for your social accounts, [...]
Yesterday, I told you guys the latest in Hughes family trolling: my dumb sister sent me a dumb Valentine's Day card that's just a dumb picture of her dumb face. Rude, but also NOTHING compared to the stories you guys told me. Check the comments on yesterday's article for some gold, but here are a few of my faves from Twitter. Feel free to send me more stories!!!!!!! Or pictures of dogs. Or tacos???? I'm pretty much open to anything.
Some months after turning eighteen, by way of opportune timing and a dearth of homework, I became internet famous via a certain charming blog. “The Seventeen Magazine Project” was a sweetly precocious treatise on the oppressive nature of teen magazines and one of the first blogs to really rally behind the person-lives-X-lifestyle-for-X-months construct. It had privilege checking, watered-down third-wave feminism, and the kind of self-aware, coming-of-age narrative that makes leftist media outlets cream their jeans.
Within days of the project launching I had an easy thousand Twitter followers, which doesn’t seem like a lot now, but it was for an average non-celebrity in 2010. In a matter of [...]
Jamelle Bouie is a writer for The Daily Beast whose work has also appeared in The American Prospect, The Atlantic, The Nation and the Washington Post. He is also somewhat of a lightning rod for ideologues: you might've seen his debate with Buzz Bissinger on NYMag, any number of people in his face on Twitter, etc. I’ve wanted for a long time to talk to Jamelle about writing, racial and political dialogue, the discursive practices of the internet—and how he manages to handle all of those things with great unflappability, grace and humor. (His Twitter bio states, "The real racist.") We talked on the phone [...]
Girls night watching a private screening of Fifty Shades of Grey!!!!!! OMG it's sooooo good!!!!!
— Kim Kardashian West (@KimKardashian) February 4, 2015
After an intense morning of negotiations, Jazmine and I are ready to make a solemn announcement: we will pay Kim Kardashian literally all our money if she reviews 50 Shades of Grey for us. This is NOT a joke.
Kim, if you are reading this, just know that our combined net worth is in the HIGH three digits, so. It'll definitely be worth your while.
Do kids still start hashtags to get a celebrity's attention? Idk. What hashtag should we use? #KimKGetInTouchAbout50ShadesAndAlsoJustToHangOutMaybeBrunch seems [...]
Here’s a hot tip: if you're interviewing a comedian over the phone, don't do the transcribing yourself.
First, you'll experience lots of technical difficulties, because your laughter will have made the comedian's responses inaudible.
Second, you will have to live with every dumb joke you made in a vain attempt to impress said comedian, and you will never be able to look at yourself in a mirror again without flinching in shame. I learned this the hard way.
I’ve spoken to very few people about what it was like to be in a room watching my mother take her last gulps of air. It was dinnertime, dark. We’d just had pizza. We’d been taking turns sitting by her side when there was a change in her breathing. All the oxygen drained from the room. When my mother died, it was just my family in a semicircle, alone together with what moments ago had been “her,” but in the span of seconds had become “her body.” She was 63.