“Actually experiencing the new car small is a rare event—most people will only be exposed to it a few times in their life—but it’s saturated in cultural meaning. It’s a product in its own right, a signifier of newness for a broad range of products, from cars to carpets to plywood to cosmetics to mobile homes.” Oh, and it’s mostly formaldehyde.
“I’d met this kid playing street ball in Moscow, and he told me about a pro league in Mongolia called the MBA. So I quit my job and took a train to Ulan Bator. They called me ‘the Mongolian Rodman.’”
The Globe and Mail’s Robert Everett-Green on Thurston Moore, Woody Allen, and other men who “did that, but aren’t the kinds of guys who do that,” and can’t believe they’re not getting a pass this time.
Craig David looks like this now which is only terrifiying if you actually remember who Craig David is.
On letting the Sugar Man be the Sugar Man (and Bob Dylan be Bob Dylan).
Pete Holmes, who, in this anonymous link-layer’s opinion, is much funnier than Louis C.K., not that it’s a contest, saying things that are 100 per cent accurate.
Nicolas Cage looks like terrible fan art of Nicolas Cage.
NBC’s Hannibal features some of the most grisly death scenes basic cable has ever seen, but manages to turn the subsequent flesh into upsettingly delicious-looking plates, discussed here on food designer Janice Poon’s blog.
“With hindsight, I know Adam would have killed me in a heartbeat, if he’d had the chance. I don’t question that for a minute. The reason he shot Nancy four times was one for each of us: one for Nancy; one for him; one for Ryan; one for me.” Adam Lanza’s father, Peter, speaks to The New Yorker.
15 features of growing up in Toronto in the 1980s (and early ’90s), including gleeful associations with Polkaroo and classist associations with Biway.
“[Is] this 3d printed Putin Butt Plug Safe for use? [T]he 3D Printed Putin butt-plug is NOT safe for use,” Fernando Sosa makes political sex toys that are, well, not safe for sex (political or otherwise).
Some brave soul at The Wire has ranked every single Real Housewife, which is effectively a catalog of fever-dreams. (Andy Cohen, you beautiful monster.)