Sites to See


( It’s difficult for me to remember the time when I enjoyed air travel. I arrived a scant hour before my flight, checked a bag free of charge, breezed through security with shoes on my feet and full-size toothpaste in my carry-on. And I’m not even talking about the true golden age of air travel—those days when a traveler could make a plane with less than a half-hour to spare and still have time to slam back a few bourbons with the pilot. The Window Seat blog offers indisputable visual evidence that those high-flyin’ times actually existed: Tourist snaps of exotic ports-of-call (from back when you still could use both phrases without embarrassment); scans of classic travel agency posters; and images of smartly attired flight attendants, futuristic air terminals and blue skies. It may have been as big a hassle to fly in the 1960s and 1970s as it is today, but in looking through Window Seat, I kinda doubt that’s true.

9 1/2 TWEETS

( The first sign that the Twitter account for actor/pugilist Mickey Rourke may not be official is the author’s declared location. (“Can’t really tell. Europe?”) And he’d never cop to the use of illicit substances, like Four Loko, (unless he thought he’d get a free case to help “wash down fistfuls of opium”). But you know something? I want to believe. I want to believe that Rourke sent forth his personal assistant in search of “chihuahua rollerblades” and dressed like “Sexy Inception” for Halloween. (“It’s basically just me in a finely tailored suit on a snowmobile, confusing the shit out of everyone.”) You could tell me that it’s written by a comic—perhaps the same dude who writes the “God Damn Batman” Twitter feed; the voices are similar—but I won’t believe you. It’s the really real Mickey Rourke, breaking into Congress with a leashed leopard in one hand and a shiv fashioned from a neighbor’s toothbrush in the other.


( I’m loath to describe this blog in too much detail, because I’ll almost certainly sell it short. Hyperbole and a Half, the blog of one Allie Brosh, is flat-out wonderful; it’s whimsical, it’s touching and it’s so goddamn funny that—once again—my attempts to describe the blog will diminish it. (They don’t call it “hyperbole” for naught, friend. Bear with me.) Just go there now and make the acquaintance of Simple Dog, The Copyright Monster and the God of Cake. There are pictures of these entities, many fine pictures. And the phrase “cake security” is used in a sentence where it not only makes sense, but adds to the drama. CAKE HEIST! There’s a damn cake heist in here, and it’s more exciting than most movies.



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