My mom and stepdad lived in North Carolina and had a really big yard they were always filling with stuff. Flowers, a garden, at one point my mom wanted to make a tiny maze in it. Then they wanted some animals so they checked out the town rules. You can get 4 chickens, for the eggs, one sheep, they wanted that for the dog to chase, and thousands of bees. But you have to go around to your neighbors and tell them hey, is it cool if I raise a cloud of tiny flying insects with a needle on their ass ovet the fence from you?
I like to imagine though it’s the bees who have to notify everyone. Knock knock bzz bzz hi, I’m a bee and I’m required by federal law to inform you that I’m moving into your neighborhood. I’m a registered pollen offender. So just FYI if there’s any flowers in your card, I’m probably going to hump them. But unlike a registered sex offender, if a bee molests the little flowers you’re raising, they’ll grow up to be beautiful blossoms, instead of horribly stunted.
You know how people say, “If I told you, I’d have to kill you?” Well there’s also, “if I told you, I’d have to kill me — because you’re so stupid and I would get so bored by the time I explained this basic idea that would have to commit suicide.
they say to lose weight you should use small plates, it tricks you into thinking you're eating more because the plate looks fuller. for me it just makes me feel claustrophobic so i defend my territory by piling more food on.
I ironed 5 shirts on Sunday and then I had to take a sick day Monday. So I’m ahead 1 shirt for the workweek. All I have to do is repeat that for 15 weeks and all the shirts in my closet will be ironed.
I'm doing my first standup comedy in 13 years tonight
Just an open mic and not memorized but I put together a set and I’m going to go do it!
I canceled last month and had a big presentation to make this week (which I was on the cusp of canceling the night before) and didn’t think I would have any time to do this standup show I signed up for last month. But lately I’ve been setting deadlines and just trying to meet them no matter what even if it’s not my best it’s still something decent and somehow I pulled it off in both cases. Well not somehow, in both cases my wife gave much-needed last-minute encouragement and editing.
I’m also trying to get better about this. When making stuff, embrace despair. It’s the moment when your fantasy about what you’ll do slams into reality and you fall into a terrible puddle of death. But if you can muddle through then you can get the necessary work done with the resources at hand and it’s going to be okay.
Sketchy Advice: A comedy writing column from UCB Comedy. Established sketch writers from the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre offer sketch students advice on being creative, the writing process, and adding to a writer’s room.
Instead of everyone always complaining about the “feckless youth,” how about you do something about it and help them? Contribute to a chairty, put out a donation box at the office, or volunteer at a feck kitchen. In this country, in this era, with all the SUV’s, susidies and supercomputers we have, there’s no reason any youth should go to sleep tonight lacking in feck.
IKEA has become like Walmart home furnishings for New Yorkers. But remember when you used to have to work for it?
You couldn’t order IKEA online. You had to go to Elizabeth, New Jersey. Some people took the subway to Penn station and then rode a bus from there. It was like an underground railroad of flat-packed Swedish home furnishings. There was even a time when it was actually hard to get a copy of the IKEA home catalogue. Only one came out a year and you had to go the store and get it and it wasn’t always there. You would get it and read it on the way home and hold onto it for the rest of the year as reference material. Friends would come over just to look at it. The IKEA catalogue was like samizdat. Now it’s an app.
And in its pages was the promise that you could hack your apartment and get a cheaper American Dream, a newer better urban American Dream, where white picket fences and buying a house you pay off by working a job you hate is for suckers. I’m gonna knowledge work my way up to the top of my dreams, rent, and my furniture won’t be broken or used or look like anything from my mom’s house. Instead, IKEA’s furniture was from the future, with funny names with dots over the vowels and friendly prices.
Then you got it home and tried to figure out how to put it together. Those black and white lines so deceptively simple. And at the front of it there was always that little drawing of the guy with the big nose scratching his head and going huh? and then a drawing of a phone and you’re like yeah what kind of idiot needs to call IKEA to put his shelves together? And then later on you’re halfway through and you’re stuck and the umlaut won’t fit into the fjord and you are that line drawing with a big nose scratching your head and thinking of calling IKEA and you realize that because you didn’t put the board that had three tiny holes on it instead of two the right way up you have to take the whole thing apart and start over and you’re turning turning that tiny hex wrench to undo the screws you already put in you’re like oh I get the business model, I get why my parents paid more at Raymor and Flannigans a pre-assembled bookshelf… because it’s already a bookshelf. At IKEA, the cost of your own labor and stupidity is the savings that we pass on to you.
But you stuck with it because it looked smart and it was cheap. Where did you get that couch? IKEA. Oh I like that desk where did you get it? IKEA. Nice credenza, did you get it at IKEA? Sure did. Each time you invoked the store name the glow of pleasure spread inside you further, like the yellow capital letters of the store getting bigger and bigger on the highway, like a reindeer on a spit slowly turning over a winter fire.
That’s a weird image. I just said that because I imagine that’s something Swedes do.
And that’s kind of IKEA’s angle, it’s something you imagine Swedes do, raising robust cheerful blonde families in tiny well-designed spaces relishing in the simple pleasure of a set of interlocking pots.
Then IKEA jumped the shark and landed in Red Hook.
Now the lines are long, and they’re filled with people. Hipsters outfitting the first williamsburg condo their parents bought them. Park slopers arguing over which duvet is better for their baby’s self esteem. You’re stuck behind 20 Hassids in line, each of them carrying two sinks. a homeless guy is camping out in one of the show bedrooms. A Russian family is eating a bunch of meatballs using the home office desk section like picnic tables. Bill DeBlasio is buying a garlic press in the shape of a cat.
Now we get all our stuff from a new place. It’s called Yahoo message groups. People in your community just post stuff they’re selling, often for cheap, or even giving away. My wife just scored a set of west elm dressers for like 80% off.!I don’t know if you’ve heard about it, but it’s a whole thing. Just don’t tell too many people. We don’t want it turning into IKEA or anything.
My toddler just figured out how to open doors. I’m so proud of him. But we’re done for. This is worse than the target security breach. This is like when the velociraptors in jurassic park got like opposable thumbs. Forget private office time, private bathroom time, private mommy daddy wrestling time. Any one of those moments can be interrupted by a screaming kid wearing a poopy diaper as a hat looking for the one electrical socket in the house that’s not baby proofed. He has evolved. Soon he’ll be teaching all the kids in the building playgroup. They’re trading toddler hacks over by the Duplo area in the common room like an occupy wall street cell. They’ll share how to ride on the elevator, how to press the button to open the building door, then all use the distraction iphones their parents gave them to flee brooklyn. Oh yeah, while you’re telling your friends it’s ok to give a baby a miniature television to “make sure they’re touch screen literate” and telling yourself “at least im not rubbing his gums with liquid benadryl” - they’re ordering up uber cars to take them to six flags. Honey, where’s the baby? Don’t worry, he’s in his room, the door’s closed. Meanwhile little Barthlomew is riding “The Sidewinder” next to that bald guy with glasses, mainlining cotton candy and he’s waving his sippy going “moh wed bull?” And they’re all going bow bow deedidly deeddily bow bow. Yep, pnce they can open doors, it’s over.
"Bass Wars" is apparently my neighbor's favorite video game
My neighbors love to play a game called “Bass Wars.” Basically, you are made of bass and you shoot bass at bass enemies to protect your base, which is made of bass. From what I hear, it’s a great way to pass the time at 2 in the morning.
Dear Mr Sartorialist: As a man, should I tuck my pants into my boots?
Great question! Do you work in construction? Are you a cranberry bog farmer? For either sport or profession, are you a horseback rider, especially in the areas of jumping or dressage? Do you live in area with high populations of fire ants? Are you an SS officer? Are you part of an advance scouting party that checks stagnant pools for leaches?
If you answered yes to any of these questions, feel free to tuck your pants into your boots.
If you answered no, keep your pants outside your boots for chrissakes.