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In the time it takes to make waffles, you can have 8 tiny cupcakes. Imagine: it’s the first week of December and you are already sick of second grade. You wake up one morning to the smell of something sweet and delicious wafting up to your room, the tiny one tucked away in the corner of the third floor with the Winnie-The-Pooh wallpaper. You know that smell can mean only one thing and a quick glance out the circle window confirms it: Snow Day. You race down the stairs and slide into the kitchen, socks slipping on the cold tiles. Your mom turns around with a plate of steaming waff—wait, what’s this? Cupcakes? Cupcakes! Chocolate chip ones with little triangle hats of cream-cheese frosting, oh, oh, the world is good to seven year olds. Via
Of course, no real surprise here. Doesn’t mean it’s not depressing. Funnier is NPR’s horrified, shocked report. Perhaps I would be shocked too if I also had never met an i-banker before.
I tried to be sensationalistic but found myself just rooting for Brit-Brit the whole time. Did manage to restrict myself to pictures less likely to be airbrushed (no horrific Candie’s ads here, folks) View List ›
In response to Scott Baio, former Charles in Charge lovable big-brother figure / hero of my youth, waging a fully incomprehensible war against Jezebel, this Tumblr blog has popped up, proving you should never pick a fight with the internet unless you can fight the trolls. Warning: may offend your 8-year-old self to the point of tears.
Well, to winning The New Yorker, which you probably only consider winning if you are the farest, leftest, liberalist elitist. Which, if you are scanning these befuddling interwebs, you probably are. Enjoy!
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