spooked out adult baby
oh hey look I found stuff to make me feel better
In his obituary of Hastings, Ben Smith links him to the tradition of Hunter S. Thompson and of oppositional Watergate-era journalism. That feels right — Hastings blended the best of both styles. Political journalism, if you approach it the wrong way, is a high-speed ticket to the world of the comfortable. You’re not supposed to use that ticket. You’re supposed to afflict the comfortable. You’re supposed to make them hate you, fear hearing from you, and tell you things they know they shouldn’t. I’m worried about all the unaccountable S.O.B.s who’ll never have to worry about Michael Hastings reporting on them. Reporters: Give them something to worry about.
David Weigel, “I’m Asking You a Question. That’s My Job.” Michael Hastings, R.I.P. (via brooklynmutt)
A lot of the time if you looked in my head you’d see that all I really want is to just want to pack up my man and my perfume and play music for the rest of my life a lot of places. It’s kind of fucked up how far from that life I’ll probably lead relative to how much I actually want it.
Not being into a girl just because she’s fat is like not being into a girl just because she’s smart and funny and kind and thoughtful and beautiful and creative and good at everything. You’re an idiot.
Also, another thought I just had is that next semester (starting in… 2 months. lol. i cries) is going to be fuckin’ insane and I really just think it’s in everyone’s best interest if someone gets me a pug or a french bulldog or a tiny small kitten but one that I’m not allergic. Seriously I wasted the best name on my last cat and then had to give her away. Just stick with the dogs. Just get me a dog.