daisel
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The Twitter Embodiment of a NYT Style Piece
Highly-over-educated recent college graduate, unemployed, using social media to talk about life problems. In other words, a NYT Styles reporter's wet dream. via
Happy Hump-Day!
The most adorable head nodding sleep-slip ever. If you were half this cute maybe your Govy professor wouldn't get quite so mad at you when you "relax" during your 8:45am IR class. Via
Cupcakes for Breakfast!
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
SEC + Porn = The Reason Madoff Got Away?
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.
The (Un)Official Aging Timeline for Britney Spears
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)
The Continued Destruction of Our Childhood Heros
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.
The Secret to Winning
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!