I'm feeling very un-bloggy lately, so talk amongst yourself. Then please read this hideous goddamn thing and rage against the machine, as one must, as that is reality and a blog is only [insert profound blog thought here]. Then, to feel better about the world and the choices some of us are still free to make, you can read about the joy of not wearing a bra and raise a glass to this sentence: "I like the way my breasts sound against my ribcage when I run down the stairs, like someone clapping politely for a performance that they didn’t particularly enjoy." This country is a bottomless hole but god bless The New Yorker! Vive la page!
Finally, go gaze at the glory that is the photo at the top of this story on the $17,000,000 sale of Paul Newman's old Rolex. Feel free also to imagine being stupid enough to drop 17 million clams on a wristwatch, even one famous for belonging to Paul Newman, who as far as I'm concerned is one of the greatest human beings who ever lived.
Happy weekend! As ever, be safe, be happy, take condoms.