so now we’re shaming children/adolescents for not being hip to all the dynamics of american capitalism?
this isn’t even funny as a meme. teachers are trying to educate kids even if they’re bad at it. what are you doing? reposting lame internet wisecracks?
this post highlights how the tortilla and the baked potato are similar in that they’re just empty vessels waiting to be filled by fixins; in less ideal restaurants this expression of culinary freedom is known as a ‘a bar,’ but this is based on hearsay since i’d never set foot in a place like that.
i think this is a profound statement on culture and class that will, no doubt, go over the heads of many reading this.
we all love sour cream no matter what race we are, what culture we belong to, and i think that’s absolutely insane if you think about it, that we are capable of liking the same things despite differences that seem important if you think beyond sour cream. how can such a simple food bind us together?
i never actually thought about why it’s called sour cream before it was dolloped on a traditional taco bought in a border town in mexico when i was visiting to purchase an inexpensive crown–this is when the sour stood tall against the savory blend of spices, yet despite this feud they complimented each other, and this nearly broke me because my sheltered palette had never known such flavors–what an astonishing blend of mysterious ethnic spices you’ll never find in a packet.
but my smile is a little crooked and they fixed that up for a budget price. it always bothered me to work in a professional environment and not have a perfect smile, i could feel the judgement in zoom meetings although nobody ever said anything. they made really good burritos in _____ , and i’ll never forget that just like i’ll never forget my perfect smile courtesy of mexico. no more chipotle for me, only food trucks, and i tip my gardener an extra 20%.
i remember the great plastic transition of 1995. on the trek though GRAND UNION to buy macaroni salad ingredients and store brand chips, i asked my mom why there were so many plastic bottles, and she replied ‘we’re like pioneers’ and she referenced little house on the prairie, and i still didn’t understand what she was getting at, so she slapped some sense into me right in aisle 13 and i pretended i understood so she’d leave me alone for five minutes.
a few weeks ago my MD said that i have colon cancer and i assume that’s from pounding cases of fruitopia when it was in vogue but who am i gonna sue? is big plastic a thing?
i tried to tell my mom it was her fault but when i tried to call all i heard was a dial tone. i thought that was weird at the time because cell-phones don’t have dial tones but my therapist said i was hallucinating; she still won’t prescribe me xanax.
pour one out for the US postal worker.
the postal worker used to have an important job, maybe the most important job–acting as the gateway between your inner world and the outer world. a job since delegated to your email inbox.
they delivered the correspondence between yourself and your loved ones and your penpals; they delivered the catalogs that met your sartorial needs–macy’s, sears or delia’s, and these glossy pages had you covered no matter your demographic, style, income. you were just a lookbook away from the perfect picturesque christmas or the perfect gift to meet any need. if you wanted something more niche, you were always a delivery away from gratification, after sending out a request from the backpages of SPIN, TV guide or glamour. i became a minister through the US postal service; i bought my first KMFDM album through the pages of industrial nation–fuck youtube.
the mail is a flaccid shadow of its former self, and these rugged, short-short clad adventurers serve no purpose other than to deliver bank statements and montgomery ward catalogs to boomers, who don’t realize that the company is no longer the proud, stalwart that used to anchor shopping malls and sell you high-quality goods at reasonable prices and has instead transformed into a private equity scam that preys on citizens with bad credit; when their house burns down becaue of the budget space heater they bought they still won’t get the memo that shit sucks. they won’t connect all these dots. but i do.
last week i gave my mailman a blowjob and i’m proud of it.
why is her outfit ‘sexualizing’ anyway?
even if her outfit didn’t suggest ‘panties’ it’d still be sexy because it accentuates her form.
the actress is probably 35, who cares who the character is aimed at. it’s normal for men to see an attractive woman and be like ‘wow she’s attractive.’
you’re pathologizing normal thinking and probably feeling incredibly satisfied with your lame response because you used the word ‘teenage’ and nobody would dare to cross swords.
grow up.
porn in america is hyper-aggressive and focused on penetration. there’s no eroticism to it. it’s crass and disgusting.
there’s something to putting on a 90s skinemax film and seeing hot milfs wearing sexy, satin nighties tenderly riding men on a real bed in a real bedroom, instead of watching giant, unearthly cocks penetrating gaping vaginas in extreme close-up.
what a boneheaded take out of the OP.
there’s a HUGE difference between what porn is selling and what turns you on.
all the anti-men shit is annoying because it’s not just dragging men but holding women up on some pedestal that they don’t deserve to be on. yeah, we fucking get it already–men suck. women are awful too.
it’s all just internet posturing anyway. i’ve been alive long enough to know that women act exactly the same as they did 25 years ago. they talk hard online but IRL they’ll still hook up with a raunchy, abusive man just because he has a good job lol.
market research firm lol. get a real job.
talk to older people whose kids are grown. later millennials/gen-x/boomers aren’t as resistant to cold conversation and their children aren’t a factor.
besides, later millennials and gen-z are legit fucking weird and either don’t know how to have deep conversations or have no personality.
they are though.
anyone who grew up in the american suburbs grew up with parents who couldn’t cook a proper meal despite the existence of cookbooks and were like ‘how about kraft dinner.’
you think you eat kraft macaroni and cheese at a hood bbq?
i’d rather have had a black woman cooking for me lol. are you fucking serious?