1. Tonight for dinner I made middle-school tacos (so-called) but I refused to fancy them up, chef-style. Who would be fooled? I summoned no neutral oil, added no garlic, cornstarch, or chicken broth: just an Ortega taco kit, ground beef, chopped onions/tomatoes/lettuce, sour cream, and, ahem, "taco sauce." Screw that prima donna salsa.
I gave these tacos no more attention than they deserved, and they were perfect. Which is to say they were a disaster, functionally speaking: there is no mechanism as far as I can tell for inserting fixin's without cracking the shell, unless you are an ant-sized sprite or are somehow able to devise a scoop out of toothpicks and can then figure out how to eat without biting. In the end I just chucked a bunch of shit on a plate and went to town. I suppose that's how it should be. And it worked: they tasted like supper on a Wednesday in 1982.
2. Here's some space for you to think about your life for a while:
3. Hannah Gadsby's "Nanette" on Netflix: I have no words for how good this special is. She caught me with a line very early on, about how she finds the overt enthusiasm of Pride events off-putting—"My favorite sound in the whole world is the sound of a teacup finding its place on a saucer"—and that wasn't even close to the heart of the show. (These are words, aren't they.) It's life-bendingly good.
4. David Letterman interviewing Howard Stern is thoughtful and surprising, or not, if you're familiar with the trajectory of the lives of these men. People used to ask me all the time if I ever saw Howard Stern at work. In fact no! We did not exist on the same plane. We were not even in the same building.
The brasher yet primmer Adewunmi speaks in a cosmopolitan London accent, while the quieter but more moan-prone Perkins drawls in a slight Tennessee twang. The contrast in their voices and backgrounds adds to the sense that these are disparate women who have come together through the irresistible force of horniness, and who willingly crack themselves open for each other (and the listeners) to partake in the pleasure of lusting out loud and sharing one’s desires, especially when the objects of one’s longing don’t always line up with one’s politics.
When Joe was finally sprung from the household, he found himself both enormously relieved and fully educated. He knew things about women now: their sighs, their undergarments, their monthly miseries, their quest for chocolate, their cutting remarks, their spiny pink curlers, the time line of their bodies, which he'd viewed in unsparing detail. This was what would be in store for him if he fell for a woman one day. He'd be forced to watch her shift and change and collapse over time; he'd be helpless to stop it from happening.
I am so enjoying her deflating of dear Joe, victim of his own small vanities.