“That’s really cool to hear.”
Rob Thomas, on the set of The Veronica Mars Movie, when a friend of a friend told him I had replied to her professional inquiry with OMGGGEEEEEE YOU KNOW ROB THOMAS, or so she says. (via rachelfershleiser)
I saw Rob Thomas at LAX once. He was sitting at the bar, and he seemed kind of anxious, like he was waiting for someone to realize he was Rob Thomas. Later, I saw him chatting with a woman who had realized he was Rob Thomas, and his whole demeanor had changed—totally relaxed, comfortable and chatty. It’s like being Rob Thomas is only easy and effortless when your Rob Thomas-ness is being acknowledged.
1:07 pm • 9 July 2013 • 29 notes
I wrote two posts that had to do with abandoning livestock today, and these are the images that ran with the stories. So much synchronicity.
4:06 pm • 8 July 2013
The job, the first held by many a Midwesterner, mixes hard manual labor with a summer camp vibe. Month-long romances, colored by exhaustion, are born in neighboring corn rows; pranks are laid; fights break out, some involving nothing more than water, others punches; myths and memories and money are made. I didn’t have a curfew while I was detasseling—what was the point? My friends and I didn’t have the energy to stay out and cause trouble after a full day in the cornfields. But after decades of functioning as a sort of rite of passage into working life throughout the Corn Belt, new developments in biotechnology could soon make detasseling obsolete.
I wrote an essay about detasseling, a shitty job I had one summer that I’m oddly nostalgic for.
4:28 pm • 3 July 2013 • 3 notes
The Texas anti-choice protest, in one photo.
Area Man Regrets Medically Impossible Procedure
2:21 pm • 2 July 2013 • 27,239 notes
Sigh. Google Reader.
The Old Reader is failing me thus far and its depressing.
4:40 pm • 1 July 2013 • 38 notes
From THE PASSING OF BLACK EAGLE by O.Henry
" Chicken did his thirty days in a snug coop. Wherefore he was, as he said, ‘leary of kids.’ "
Image: If you know who took this photograph of Jean-Paul Belmondo, please contact us.
"Alas a dirty word, alas a dirty third alas a dirty third, alas a dirty bird."
9:56 am • 27 June 2013 • 2 notes
Trolling fast-food restaurants is part of my job. It’s a boring, one-note thing to have to do, but it’s something our audience loves to read about and since this is a job, I have to deliver on the traffic front. The stories subsidizes the weirder things I write, stories about Heinz Classic Heirloom Tomatoes, different representations of agriculture in the California’s Central Valley, or rare Siberian cattle. When I have to spend too much time getting angry about Taco Bell or McDonald’s, I think about that Moe Tkacik story in the Columbia Journalism Review where she talked about writing for Jezebel but not personally caring about the things she wrote about. “Contempt would just have to be part of the ‘Moe Tkacik brand.’”
So when I come across something that lets me turn the tables, to fuck with readers a bit by challenging all of the preconceived notions they come to these stories with, it’s a lot of fun. Writing that hating McDonald’s makes you a Russian nationalist, like I did today, was one of those opportunities. I also got to read a Bill Keller story from 1990 about the opening of the first McDonald’s in Moscow, which was really enjoyable too.
1:50 pm • 26 June 2013