ready to start

Made. My. Day.

This is the email my friend, Sarah, sent me when I expressed interest in her delicious-looking lunch.

"On today’s show, we’ll be making a quinoa salad!

Ingredients:

—cooked quinoa

—cooked chicken seasoned to your own lovely taste buds

—roasted Brussels sprouts

—avocado

—red bell pepper

—scallions

—cucumber

—dressing of your choice (I used honey dijon vinaigrette)

Step 1: Get a bowl.

Step 2: Place thinly sliced lettuce in bowl.

Step 3: Sprinkle quinoa allllllll the eff over that lettuce.

Step 4: Chop up all those veggies and the chicken.

Step 5: Throw all the veggies and chicken into the bowl and toss, TOSS, TOSS!

Step 6: Drizzle dressing all up in there. Shake, mix, toss, you know.

Step 7: EAT THAT.”

Let’s Make Fun Of: Anthropologie Furniture

lizgalvao:

I love to hate Anthropologie furniture. In particular, the way they stage it for their website. There’s this gross fantasy they’ve created of an art student who can afford to spend thousands of dollars on a paint-splattered flea market find. It’s like all their customers are aspiring to be Charlotte in Tiny Furniture (a loft-dwelling trust fund dilettante).

They’ve gone off the deep end with the juxtaposition. You know those fashion editorials every fall where models lasagned in Prada swing around street signs in Red Hook? It’s like that, but on acid. The settings are more deteriorated and the designs are more design-y. It’s like shopping from deep within Fuck Your Noguchi Coffee Table.

If you choose to purchase a piece of Anthropologie furniture, it will only really look right in one of three settings:

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1. An alternative gallery space six weeks from opening

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2. An urban cabin with faulty electrical wiring

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3. A crumbling Southern plantation (soon to be deemed “the new loft” by the NYTimes)


Let’s take a stroll through the Anthropologie furniture section together. What’s for sale today?

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In the writing world, there is a hierarchy. The writers are on the bottom. Above them are editors, who tell the writers what to change. This is backwards. How many good writers has Big Edit destroyed?

"Pish posh," you might say. "You’re one to talk. Your grammar is wronged, your metaphors are blunt bricks, and your similes are like a hot needle to the eyeball. Your infinitives are split, your participles are dangling, your spelling is eroneous, your cliches are old as time, your sentences are repetitive, and your sentences are repetitive. Your concepts appear to have been plucked from thin air with no foresight, hindsight, or insight. If anyone is in need of a good editor it is you. And you are ugly."

Against Editors