“The Hollywood Reporter roundtables typically draw diverse groups of talented people. But the six men who gathered Oct. 2 at The Residences at the W Hollywood might be among the most eclectic bunch we’ve ever assembled.”
MASSIVELY eclectic! 6 white guys of varying ages and genres. Rabid eclecticism dot com!
Some with beards! Some without!
If you were following coverage of Sandy last night, you may have seen photos of nurses and firemen transporting babies from the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) at NYU’s hospital. If you didn’t, you might consider looking them up. They’re very moving. They show courageous emergency and medical…
On my way to the check-in desk for my flight to Berlin on Sunday evening, I was considering whether I should feel sad: it was my real-true departure after nine years and 27 days (approximately) of living in London, and it felt like it lacked a little bit of ceremony. If this was a film, I thought, there would be a wistful saxophone soundtrack and someone would be here to say goodbye to me, and cry, and my voiceover would say something like, ‘I arrived in London a girl. I left a woman.’
Just my best friend being a boss primatologist, talking about the benefits of friendship on leading science programme Nature.
1. Yesterday at lunchtime I was queuing for a table in a crowded restaurant. The man in front of me turned around and said something friendly and unremarkable about the queue, and then I said something friendly and unremarkable about the queue in return, and then he said, ‘we love queuing here!’ which is a fine, friendly thing to say to an American woman standing behind you in the queue for a crowded London restaurant. And I thought, ‘sir, I’ve lived here for nine years, I know all about you and your people and your queuing.’ But I didn’t, because it did not seem necessary to explain to the man in the queue why his explanation about the nature of queuing in England was not an explanation that I required.
Hey remember when I said Molly Ringwald recorded the audiobook of The Midds? Well, it’s done, and here’s Chapter 2 for your listening pleasure.
I hope someone makes a dance remix of this business.
That’s so cool.
1.
In Berlin, I say to C, I will be the kind of person who owns six matching coffee mugs.
C has stopped by to say goodbye and is now standing in the kitchen washing day-old dishes as I stuff things in to boxes, because C is very kind-hearted and I am very disorganised. The guy who is picking up my boxes for them to be shipped to Berlin is waiting outside in his van; he’s turned up 45 minutes early. In his van, the box guy is drinking a coffee that I brought him in a mug with a kitten on it.
Big. Yellow. A menace to our economy. Nice one @barackobama
Look, it’s 2012 Nobel Prize in physics winner David Wineland (back row, eighth from the left) circa 1968 with lab supervisor Norman Ramsey (to his right) and an assortment of young physicists, including Dadelstein! Look at their amazing outfits, and look at all the women!
howto-kissdistinctly-american:
Ladies and Gentlemen, the Prime Minister of Australia kicking ass and taking names (mostly Tony Abbott’s). [x]
(Source: numbtongue, via how-tokissdistinctly-american)
Helmut’s father told him that he’d never make it as a sculptor, that he’d be better off studying accountancy.
I’ll show you, thought Helmut, tearing off another strip of Die Welt to plunge in the papier-mache paste. You know nothing about dreams.
Teen Dating Fads, 1957
Sword Signals
“I have a girl friend but she doesn’t like me much.” As found in Life magazine.
OH MY GOD WON’T SOMEBODY THINK OF THE…oh wait.
