I have a crush on your hair

daveholmes:

Good piece on Maine by Ta-Nehisi Coates. I’m not ready to say that a majority of Americans is fueled by bigotry; I think most are simply defending their family from an imaginary attack. (And that attack has been cooked up by a small group of people who are fueled by bigotry. [Or sexual immaturity- anyone with a 4th-grader’s understanding of human nature knows that Matt Barber and Fred Phelps are homosexuals. There is no getting around it. Guys, I am so, so sorry you can’t stop thinking about cocks.])

The real problem here is that- for the 31st time in a row- we lost because our side turned something concrete and urgent (the imminent theft of the democratically-granted rights of a minority) into something airy and nebulous (fairness), and let our opponents turn something airy and nebulous (discomfort with the unusual) into something concrete and urgent (gay people are on the way to your kid’s school to enter him in a BJ contest).

Who’s in charge here? Do they know how advertising works? Have they met and listened to actual people?

Even today, the reaction is all wrong: Maine can’t tell me who to love!!! What’s wrong with love, Maine?!!? Maine didn’t tell anyone who to love. Something worse happened: a small group of people lied and motivated a large group of people to steal our rights. That is some seriously anti-American shit right there.

I’ve been saying this all along. These intolerant biggots that vote to take away rights from a minority group need to be called out as what they really are. Assholes.

Too nervous to eat my salad.

The last two episodes (tonight and last week) have made up for an insanely boring (read: too much Don Draper - not enough Peggy) season.

The gays in my building have looted our Don Draper pumpkin. My building consists of 98% gay men and 2% frats. I know it was a gay and not a frat because they left behind the Joan Holloway pumpkin. And Peggy.

My roommate decided to make squash soup. By the time I came home, the roommate was hunched over a pot of warm fart smelling liquid, stirring away, while on the table remained a single yellow squash.

“You’re not using this for your soup?”

“No. That’s going to be our Joan Holloway Halloween decoration.”

Hello, Eva Amurri’s breasts. They’re spectacular. Tumblesbians? No comment??

Review from Amazon:

Mary McCarthy’s The Group is a sharply-pointed satire of upper-class New England society which follows the post-college lives of eight Vassar graduates, class of ‘33. Helena was registered for Vassar at birth; Pokey forged her mother’s signature on her college application in defiance of the family tradition of “being dim-witted and vain of it.” Out in the “real” world, Dottie loses her virginity to a “bad sort” but discovers that she enjoys sex, while Kay subsumes her own talent to the artistic “genius” of her egocentric and philandering husband. Libby writes book reviews that are almost as long as the original material and Polly works as a nurse, while Priss is forced by her pediatrician-husband to go against “tradition” and her inclinations and breastfeed her baby, as proof of his theories. Elinor “Lakey” Eastlake, the sleek, rich leader of the group, travels about Europe and ultimately returns, full of surprises. Adopting the non-stop, generally well-intentioned, but hopelessly narrow-minded voice that typifies the worst of the group, Mary McCarthy filets Ivy League society, socialism, 1930s child-rearing practices, sexual double-standards, psychoanalysis, and men in general.