the moment i knew jennifer wilson was in for one
Also...what's going on with Azealia/Matty...
I’ve started up Tony Tulathimutte’s Rejection, and each chapter (it’s a novel of interconnected short stories) is the craziest thing I’ve ever read. Join me!
Remember how I got all venty about the left’s disillusionment with domesticity over Thanksgiving? Emily Nussbaum’s profile of Nightbitch director Marielle Heller, which gets delightfully nitty-gritty about the ways Heller has wrangled her ambition around motherhood and her SNL alum husband’s career, was a perfect example of the narrative I think we’re used to hearing now. Except of course, the moral here is that okshestillmadeitwork! Which, good for her. I don’t suppose they profile the ones who gave up on the juggling…
Since Haliey Welch, AKA Hawk Tuah girl, has been in the news again, it’s a good excuse to up this essay on spitting that My’Kayle Pugh published in Safy’s Princess Babygirl newsletter. God, all the fun writing now really is happening on Substack isn’t it…
“This past summer, I did the bidding of the ancients” is the new “I couldn’t help but wonder…” is one of many nice lines elevating The New Yorker’s latest riff on the perennial breakup journey essay (a genre for which I will always congratulate anyone who is still to obtain professional funding to publish in these days… we used to have a proper internet, full of high-quality breakup blogging, and now! ugh!). Anyway, Jennifer Wilson’s investigation of The New Business of Breakups is totally worth reading, but also I’m not gonna lie, I kind of chuckle-shuddered at her description of the inciting heartbreaker, which I don’t think is intended as foreshadowing but for a certain slice of unmarried Manhattanite, this is basically 6 red flags with a Hitchcockian strings theme on blast:
I met someone really, really hot. He had a face you could not help but project all of your fantasies onto—when I showed his picture to a friend, she said, “Ooh, he looks like he reads.” He made films and lived in Chinatown, near a funeral parlor that hired a marching band to process down the street as part of the service.
^^The moment I understood that she was in TROUBLE. Those nice-faced Dimesian “intellectuals” get you every time I tell ya what…
In the plurg we all fam: Starting this week until February, I’m filling in as Prudie in Slate’s iconic Dear Prudence advice column. Send me your questions here! Let me tell you what to do!!!
Okay look away now if you are above this kind of abject onlinenes but…last week I was totally glued to the Azealia Banks / Matty Healy squabble on Twitter, which got very ugly (basic summary of it in a nutshell if you don’t want to read tweets), but it also led to Azealia firing this oddly specific and detailed roast off at one point, which goes to show that simply no one is tweeting like Banks is tweeting, though it remains unclear if that is a good or bad thing…
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The world-renowned Hack City comedy show is back, this time with an all-women line up of incredible comedians for our last show of 2024! Union Hall, Brooklyn, 7pm, Friday December 13!
Delia as Dear Prudence?? I hope someone is making up absolutely deranged fake letters to send you as we speak. Cannot wait!