Bunny babby.

In a world where Twitter bios proudly proclaim, "Made In China", "Brooklyn Via Oslo", or "NYC mailbox, DC license", mine politely whispers "New York City" and hopes for no follow-up questions.

Sweet-n-Sour Potatoes With Some Hot Fruit

"A cook in a jacket, a short petticoat and sabots, brought my supper: to wit—some meat, nature unknown, served in an odd and acid, but pleasant sauce; some chopped potatoes, made savoury with, I know not what: vinegar and sugar, I think: a tartine, or slice of bread and butter, and a baked pear."

And now, the pre-store pep talk.

You are constantly underestimated in comparison to Eliot and Pound, probably because everyone thinks you departed from nineteenth-century techniques insufficiently, or because you forgot to fling a lot of untranslated Italian and unnecessary canto divisions into your work.

"You left your culture at the door when you married a white guy."

So pretty.

In which someone's contract is not renewed, but instead of it being terrible we are all better for it.

The theme song is just Madeline jauntily and wordlessly wailing, which, fair enough!

Because I feel like it's been fifteen years and we've NEVER had that conversation as a society. How did we just let that slide?

Case In Point Of A :

I've finally gotten a job that fits my background pretty well, is stable, and pays decently. I've been working toward getting a job in this field for a few years, but now that I've finally got it, I'm afraid it doesn't fit me. I feel like someone more extroverted would be better suited to the job. Also, I'm finding it quite directionless and unstructured. Worst of all, I'm bored out of my mind.

N.B. 1 : I mostly enjoyed this movie, except for the parts which made me furious, which I loved , because I really enjoy getting furious.

N.B. 2 : This is unrelated but it felt pretty messed up that Captain America would kiss that blonde girl

What a normal Monday, here on The Toast.