Norman Fucking Rockwell is like the most beautiful album I've ever heard. Guaranteed bitch-baby tears when that SOB comes out after a few. Can't lie. Can only own it.
Thank you, Karen Geier, for giving voice to my exhausted, inarticulate, cuss-laden sentiments about our home and native (LOLsob) land. Where I live, we had an offshoot of the big convoy rolling around on Saturday in protest of carbon taxes, horns a-blaring, unignorable. I am so profoundly tired of being surrounded by neoliberals and racists and oil-idolaters, tired of them electing their ilk in landslides, tired of seeing their shitty anti-vaxx/racist/both signs on streets and farmland and inside hospitals and clinics, tired of their bloviating self-aggrandizing proudly-ignorant unmasked verbiage in the news and in waiting rooms and in line for a coffee when I risk venturing inside a cafe in between covid waves. Most of the time I try to keep my head down and focus on helping my community as much as I can. But I can't ignore it indefinitely -- the bastards won't LET me ignore them -- and essays like yours give me strength for when I have to endure them, or, uuuugh, interact with them, or cast my vote for the lesser of several evils and still know I'm pretty much throwing it away amidst a sea of votes for whatever right-wing/neolib has achieved ascendency in my riding.
Is it just too predictably Canadian that I feel I must apologize for my rant? Sorry. I'm just so tired. Thank you Karen, and thank you Luke for this newsletter, as always.
i don't have many regrets, but "got caught selling $10 bottles of popov to rich kids at my boarding school for $100 and missed going to prom with lizzie grant" is pretty high up there.
buy a bottle or 3 of popov for a cool $9.99, split each bottle into 5 poland spring bottles that would sell for $20, and suddenly the blue-collar hockey scholarship kid at the prestigious kent school is very popular, with a lot of disposable income that could be used to procure more expensive narcotics, and thus hanging out with the cool kids, including one lizzy grant, who i drunkenly asked to prom with the killer line "hey, if you don't have a date for prom, i'd love to go with you" -- and then got kicked out the week before prom
Norman Fucking Rockwell is like the most beautiful album I've ever heard. Guaranteed bitch-baby tears when that SOB comes out after a few. Can't lie. Can only own it.
Thank you, Karen Geier, for giving voice to my exhausted, inarticulate, cuss-laden sentiments about our home and native (LOLsob) land. Where I live, we had an offshoot of the big convoy rolling around on Saturday in protest of carbon taxes, horns a-blaring, unignorable. I am so profoundly tired of being surrounded by neoliberals and racists and oil-idolaters, tired of them electing their ilk in landslides, tired of seeing their shitty anti-vaxx/racist/both signs on streets and farmland and inside hospitals and clinics, tired of their bloviating self-aggrandizing proudly-ignorant unmasked verbiage in the news and in waiting rooms and in line for a coffee when I risk venturing inside a cafe in between covid waves. Most of the time I try to keep my head down and focus on helping my community as much as I can. But I can't ignore it indefinitely -- the bastards won't LET me ignore them -- and essays like yours give me strength for when I have to endure them, or, uuuugh, interact with them, or cast my vote for the lesser of several evils and still know I'm pretty much throwing it away amidst a sea of votes for whatever right-wing/neolib has achieved ascendency in my riding.
Is it just too predictably Canadian that I feel I must apologize for my rant? Sorry. I'm just so tired. Thank you Karen, and thank you Luke for this newsletter, as always.
i don't have many regrets, but "got caught selling $10 bottles of popov to rich kids at my boarding school for $100 and missed going to prom with lizzie grant" is pretty high up there.
Lol what? Say more
buy a bottle or 3 of popov for a cool $9.99, split each bottle into 5 poland spring bottles that would sell for $20, and suddenly the blue-collar hockey scholarship kid at the prestigious kent school is very popular, with a lot of disposable income that could be used to procure more expensive narcotics, and thus hanging out with the cool kids, including one lizzy grant, who i drunkenly asked to prom with the killer line "hey, if you don't have a date for prom, i'd love to go with you" -- and then got kicked out the week before prom