Carles, I don’t know if you read the comments section (everyone who thinks they’re so important say they don’t read the comments bc apparently us commenters are all trolls), but either way, I’m gonna say this bc I need to get this off my chest. I feel like I’ve known you forever. You were there for me when I was an awkward bandgeek teen, you were there when I went to college, you were there when I got my first job and you were still there when I got my first apartment. But lately you haven’t been there, or anywhere. You were there through the most meaningful years of my life, I grew up with you, and now you are nowhere to be found. I am tired of going on Twitter, HRO, effin Grantland everyday searching in vain for you. I love you, and I need your thoughts and words, but I can’t live like this anymore. If HRO ever meant anything for you like it did for me, come back. Come back for good or at least to give us some closure. I and others too need some closure for what was once a part of our life. We deserve this, carles. I want to move on from you, so please, just say goodbye and I’ll go.

a comment on Hipster Runoff, amen (via interweber)

(Source:, via interweber)


I quit my job last week, then was called in for jury duty on Tuesday. Between those events, I discovered that my closet had become infested with moths. I think I first noticed this on Friday, though I’d seen a moth here or there before that and just hoped/assumed it was the non-sweater-eating…

Just catching up on my Girls In Hoodies pods only to learn there’s no more phloxlombardi! I was sad, but then I read this. #GoTessGo

This will be the Zapruder tape for people investigating the murder of Mariah Carey's 5 octave range, ESPECIALLY the moment at 2:38. Meep!


sometimes you don’t need porn, you just need to watch meg white in the right performance of “Blue Orchid” and call it a day.

Meg is pure sex. Damn, I miss the White Stripes.