I'm sorry, Tom.
'The Message'
Natter 72: We Were Unprepared for This
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
Oh, Tom. I wish I could say something useful here. Want hairpats or hugs?
If it's not one thing, it's your mother? (Oy. Sorry.)
I'm sorry, Tom.
Windsparrow, I had to read your comment three times and go back and read Tom's because I thought you said: "Want hairplugs?"
Tom,
good wishes to you and hairplugs if you want them.
::sigh:: Ah, the parental irony. I'm so sorry, Tom.
And you're totally right about Nick Denton. I've done too much work for him already, and there isn't enough money to make it right for full time. I think...NO.
Here, have The Greatest Show On Legs (NSFW, but comedy, not sex). I'm trying to think of American comedy where instrumental music becomes so fucking funny, because whatever that used to be, in the early 80s it became one thing only.
Oh Tom, I'm sorry.
I'm reading David Rakoff's last book which is a bit slow going but quite fun.
Tom, I'm so sorry.
t's like, I feel fine with my own day-to-day, but I feel bad that I don't have a kid for my dad to play with.
I will always be thankful that a handful of my friends had babies at the right time for my mom to play grandma with them. Both my parents were always okay with my choice to not have kids, but my mom LOVED babies, and would get a little wistful about not having any around.
(Relatedly: thank you, Plei. Because.)
Ugh Tom, I'm sorry.
And shrift, that's great about quitting.
I can hardly take part in the mid life crisis discussion because it's hitting me in that place, you know? I think it's my sister's illness.
I took a rare day off today to stretch out the great weekend, and spent the afternoon seeing good indie films before meeting my former roomie for the coupon-cheapened Brazillian steakhouse. I am now stuffed full of a solid pillar of very tasty beef from chest to waistline.