Quiet Revolution

Why can’t people just shutthefuckup once in awhile? Everyone’s on their cell phones on the bus, yelling into the receiver as if we all want to hear about how their boyfriend is ‘triflin,” or they’re on it in the fucking grocery store, talking to their bougie, castrated husband about what kind of English muffins he wants.

In the staff meeting for the school paper I work for, people kept talking while the editor was trying to talk. Just carrying on their own goddamn conversations. Hello? Are we in the third grade? Have we not figured out that meetings, while boring and tedious, go a lot faster when everyone focuses and speaks one at a time?

The worst, though, is the library. I can no longer study in the FREAKING LIBRARY.

I thought I could at least count on getting some peace in the library, but apparently not. I’m in favor of bringing back the old-fashioned, elderly, cranky librarian who shushed people all the time, because the tattooed twentysomethings currently employed by my school library aren’t cutting it.

Also, Ossie Davis totally should have won for best guest actor in a drama on the Emmys. Boo.

Party time

Hey Party People,

This is your site admin here to write about all the new features here at pbh. Well there aren’t a ton, but there’s the author’s name now, excerpts work more intelligently, and authors can have their own personal css file for changing the style of their site. For example if you click on my name, Administrator, you will find that I have replaced the default image with a personal one. So everyone enjoy! YAY!

– Kit

scarves & sweaters

i think that it’s brainless to assume that making changes to your window’s view will give a new perspective.

and the hardest part is yet to come

information travels faster & sadder

i intentionally wrote it out to be an illegible mess
you wanted me to write you letters, but i’d rather lose your address
and forget that we’d ever met and what did or did not occur.
sitting in the station, it’s all a blur
of dancehall hips, pretentious quips,
a boxers bob and weave.

Scathing

The party of Lincoln and Liberty was transmogrified into the party of hairy-backed swamp developers and corporate shills, faith-based economists, fundamentalist bullies with Bibles, Christians of convenience, freelance racists, misanthropic frat boys, shrieking midgets of AM radio, tax cheats, nihilists in golf pants, brownshirts in pinstripes, sweatshop tycoons, hacks, fakirs, aggressive dorks, Lamborghini libertarians, people who believe Neil Armstrong’s moonwalk was filmed in Roswell, New Mexico, little honkers out to diminish the rest of us, Newt’s evil spawn and their Etch-A-Sketch president, a dull and rigid man suspicious of the free flow of information and of secular institutions, whose philosophy is a jumble of badly sutured body parts trying to walk

Written by Garrison Keillor, who I usually assume is the boringest person on this planet, satiating the fat minds of NPR listeners everywhere.