Category Archives: reblogs

A Letter I Wrote To Myself About Getting Fat

I adore this! Truer advice I have not read in ages, for sure.

Put On Your Happy Face

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Shall we talk about your body?

Your body, which used to be thinner. Which you took for granted, because it fitted into cheap, tight dresses. Your body, which took you up and down Brixton Hill, every day, twice a day, never unheralded by catcalls, the stream of men and their “Oh baby hey baby nice tits nice ass hey WHERE YOU GOING?”

Your body was a girl’s body, made from dancing and late nights and skipped dinners, of hopefulness and sleeplessness and sadness. It took care of itself, or rather, you didn’t care that it couldn’t. It wasn’t for you, and so you didn’t mind that you couldn’t always afford to feed and nurture it. The admiration of others was nourishment enough. You often went to bed feeling empty. You thought it was heartbreak. It was probably hunger.

Then your body became plump with love.

Late dinners and later breakfasts…

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We’ll never tell you what to write about, but…

A poetry editor’s woes…. I’m going to toss all my recent poems now (hehehe) 🙂

Oyez Review

As a poetry editor, the sheer amount of poems you read can be very daunting. When you read hundreds of poems, you begin to notice that there are a few topics everyone seems to want to write about. It only takes a couple of these poems for you to sigh whenever you see certain themes emerging from the words in front of you. Not this again, you think, and push the thought back and give the poem a chance. But by choosing a topic that has been done so much and by so many, and by the greats before us, the poet has created an uphill job for themselves in trying to give a fresh face to these old themes.

I’ve seen too many poems about death. These poems are usually about the death of someone close to the author. Death and love have to be the two most…

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Awesome piece about elitist diners who just don’t get the reality of service industry work…

WaPo Writer Loses His Shit Over Servers Taking Away Empty Plates

~ Gigi ~

The Kimchi Incident.

Very funny story that’s sure to elicit a giggle or two. Enjoy 🙂


” He and his girlfriend had made a trip to the local Asian market and they purchased some authentic kimchi.  To say he was proud of it is an understatement.  The first thing we saw when we arrived was basically a shrine highlighting his find. “


We were in our twenties and our pallets were moving beyond Hot Pockets.  The gang would get together every few weeks and have a food fest.  We’d strap on the feed bag until we were basically immobile.  One of my friends in particular has always been a great chef. His name is Craig.  Well, he says his name is “Craig”, I suppose it could be George.  How does a person truly know?  Hmmmm.  Anyway, George…I mean Craig, was hosting a Vietnamese fondue party.  It was about the third time he had gone with this theme and he was tuning the ethnicity factor to try and be as accurate as he could.   He and his girlfriend had made a trip to the local Asian market and they purchased some authentic kimchi.  To say he was proud of it is an understatement.  The first thing we saw when we arrived was…

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american idiot

Very funny blog post. Well written and entertaining.

A snippet from this post :

“This is just one of the several challenges I encounter as an American walking down the street in London. Half the time I can’t find the street sign at all–why is it plastered up on the building? In America, we paint our street signs green and stick them in middle of the sidewalk so we can watch people who are texting-while-walking walk face-first into a street sign!”

the anti-lifestyle blog

“D’ya want [incomprehensible noise]?”

“Um, I’m sorry, what?”

“D’ya want [incomprehensible noise]?”

“I’m–um–sorry, one more time?”

“D’ya want [incomprehensible noise]?”

“I… no. No, thanks.”

I am in London, in a cafe on Charlotte Street, where I learn in short order that drip coffee is an American thing, and there is something else that I could have on my avocado toast, but I don’t know what it is and I’m not going to say yes on the off-chance it’s Marmite. That seems like the kind of stunt they might pull in a country where coffee is served in cups that look like doll furniture. Nobody’s awake enough to know better.

It’s the first time I’ve left America in nearly a decade. I live in a world where this is rare: as an employee of a multinational corporation, and also a white person who went to liberal arts college, my unmarked passport is a curiosity…

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Evocative Photos Highlight New Zealand’s Largest Street Gang

Evocative Photos Highlight New Zealand’s Largest Street Gang

I think these photos are beautiful and full of humanity.

~ Gigi ~

Damn funny and sure to tickle your funny bone. He didn’t miss anything, and if he did, let him know LOL.

A truly entertaining post from the Peaches & Coconuts blog.

An excerpt from “Slight of Hand

But if you look, really look, you’ll see that he does have a right hand, after all. It just so happens that his hand is just out of view because since he turned 11, his hand is always and forever down his pants.

Before you continue to make misguided assumptions, he is not actually doinganything down there. Apparently, his pockets are insufficient, and he requires a bigger space for his tween-aged hands. That’s what I’ve told myself, anyway.