09. Theme is... testosterone and life rafts
Me vs. The 75%
Theme is… testosterone and life rafts
My bed is composed of 75% testosterone.
It’s a king split unevenly between three boys [my partner, my bb, my little dog too] and yours truly.
All of the boys snore. Loudly so. Each have their own rhythm, cadence, and bridge as they transition between allegros and expertly tag team solos. I could pick any one of them out in an acoustic lineup.
Despite the smallness of said bb and said dog, I’m on the very edge [we’re talking the seams of the mattress edge] of said king-sized bed. I’ve claimed the perimeter of the upper left quadrant, nothing more.
I would like to add that the bb sleeps ass perpendicular to my face and has a penchant for throwing exclamatory farts through the night.
In short, this trio keeps me up—all noches, sans intermission.
While the snore sesh and intermittent farting play out, I try to put myself to sleep by pretending our bed is a life raft floating in a void. Something Tron-like, existing only in a dark plane. It’s the light cycle gameplay. And we streak on by, a brilliant beam in the dark, noisily outmaneuvering all the other sleepless people.
It doesn’t always put me to sleep, but the thought is calming.
Comrades of the interwebs, soliciting cures for insomnia. Go.
The confessional: Irked that I’m so irked that Coperni’s Spring/Summer 2023 fashion show stunt, featuring Bella Hadid, got shortlisted by Inc.’s best of marketing 2022. Liquid fiber, BFD. C’mon people, Alexander McQueen did nearly the EXACT SAME THING back in 1999 with Shalom Harlow, except he did it exponentially better [ahem, see below: Savage Beauty @the MET].
This week’s feels
Reads: Nate Jone’s amusing mind-suck of an article for Vulture about our obsession with nepo-babies and nepo-baby dynasties.
Flix: Severance. Killed the season in two nights. Who am I? Immersed, engaged, fully committed. When are they dropping season two?
Beats: Señor Santa by Y La Bamba.
Señor Santa,
Dear old Saint Nick
Be awful careful, and please don't get sick
Put on your coat when breezes are blowing
And when you cross the street look where you're goingLoves: Long silent walks with the bb through this zombie town that’s PDX. Where is everyone? Bueller?
He says/she says/they says: “If you can’t land a triple-toe-triple-toe in Atlanta, why are you going to be able to land a triple-toe-triple-toe in Reno?”—Jonathan Van Ness
Asking for a friend
Five-second rule aside, how bad is it if you let your baby eat off the floor?
Gram crush du jour
Credit: @unreal_actor