If San Francisco men want more women in their city, they should hire them at their tech companies.
The 2011 production of K-Cups, lined up end to end, would encircle the equator six times—a foot-wide belt of plastic, foil, and coffee around the planet.
While some of DiSclafani’s descriptions of teenage sexuality seem credible, most are either awkward or too vivid for their particular context. At one point, Thea fantasizes about her friend Sissy and Sissy’s secret paramour, Boone: “I thought of Boone gently and urgently kneading her breasts.” Which sounds to me like a bad mammogram, a really bad third date or instructions for how to make gnocchi.
Digital hipster mecca Pitchfork actually gave the record a one out of ten which reads more like a temper tantrum than a genuine attempt to assess the overall quality of an artwork.
This post was reblogged from Shibe Doge.