Maybe I'm Just Too Elevatorgate/Gamergate Poisoned But

Knowledge is knowing that it's Frankenstein's monster; wisdom is not looking for a lab coat when you Find Frankie.

I can't believe I've never shared this story with the Internet before. It's how something some random person I don't know and have never met will live in me forever.

It was sometime in the late 90's or early aughts. I was in my early adolescence, so between 11 and 14. I used to regularly read the PennySaver cover to cover. Why? For me, it was one of the few scattered little windows into what everyday life was like for non-famous people outside of my niche world. I also was a fast and voracious reader, but never had enough to read, especially not periodicals.

If you don't know what the Pennysaver is, it was analog Craigslist: That cheaply-printed newsprint booklet that no one subscribed to arrived in everyone's mailbox once a week. Certain ad types cost money to run, plus it ran ads. It was a more family-friendly weekly than, say, your LA Weeklies or, further up the West Coast, The Strangers. Also minus the journalism, I suppose, but there were gay people in it!

Anyway, one week, I'd read something in the PennySaver that started the slow process of catalyzing a change in my life for the better. It wasn't a wanted ad for something I had that turned out to be worth a lot of money. It wasn't a job listing that started my career. It wasn't even for a garage sale that had an item that ended up being important to me.

It was a w4m personal ad. As continues to be the case, those were much rarer than m4[literally anything]. The first sentence was "Thin may be in, but fat's where it's at!"

It was the first time I'd ever seen someone call themself fat in a way that wasn't at all negative, apologetic, or angry. This lady was saying hey, I'm fat! And I think it's a selling point even if the overall culture says it isn't!

I don't recall anything else about the ad other than that it was a woman seeking a man, and that the rest of it was unremarkable. It took a lot of other things to get me to a point of real, lasting comfort with my fatness, of course. But that little quip is stuck in my head for the rest of my life.

Thank you, random lady. I hope you're still alive, kicking, and happy. I hope you found as much love and/or miles of d1ck as you wanted, whether through the ad or by other means.

Kids these days and their googling their crushes. Back in my day, we had to steal pictures of them from the stacks of photos being passed around at social events and hope no one noticed or make do with grainy yearbook images.

Is it just me or have people suddenly started using "the x of y" instead of "y's x" more? It comes off as so stilted to me.

woke up this morning w/ this fully-formed in my brain [oc]

"Short Skirt, Long Jacket" by CAKE was the prototype for the new breed of fauxminist d00d who claims he is supportive of his partner's career success, but really just wants to rely on her for all of his needs, including financial. In this essay I will

I've long owned a very old copy of The Age of Chivalry; Or, Legends of King Arthur by Thomas Bulfinch. It's got an 1898 copyright date, a preface dated as 1900, and a title page illustration marked 1908. Its cover is extremely worn, but the insides are intact and still pretty.

Today, I decided to look up the person whose name is on the bookplate. I found him in an ad in the San Bernardino Sun, Volume 62, Number 140, 18 July 1928.

He was a butt doctor.

Could there be anything worse than realizing that you're the ex Chappell Roan is talking about in "Good Luck, Babe!"?

Yes. Yes, there is.

It would be worse to mistake yourself for the ex Chappell Roan is talking about in Good Luck, Babe!

AND THEN OUT OF ALL OF THOSE THEY ALL USE THE SAME ONE (1) OUTHOUSE ANYWAY

REALLY NOW, MAGS. NO OUTHOUSES. NOWHERE TO SHIT.

The only time we met was enough My heart is a stopped clock Stuck on one particular time