Steve Dyer

One of the Internet’s favorite sports:

fedswatching:

coachesrayofsunshine:

pyaahdozame:

if you ever wondered what the voice of Finn does out of Adventure Time, here it is.

I’m so done with my life. The fact that this is literally fucking Finn the Humans voice I just- I can’t.

cook mom, cook mom, whachu cookin

“Yes, Syria has undoubtedly used chemical weapons on its own people. Maybe it was the government; maybe it was the opposition; maybe you [President Obama] know for sure. But here’s what I know for sure: We are no better. We have been using chemical weapons on our own children – and ourselves – for decades, the chemical weapons we use in agriculture to win the war on pests, weeds, and the false need for ever greater yields. While the effects of these “legal” chemical weapons might not be immediate and direct, they are no less deadly. … We’ve been trying to tell you for years that chemical companies like Monsanto, Syngenta, Dow, DuPont, Bayer Crops Sciences, and others are poisoning our children and our environment with your support and even, it seems, your encouragement. Just because their bodies aren’t lined up wrapped in sheets on the front pages of the newspapers around the world doesn’t mean it’s not true,” - Maria Rodale, CEO of Rodale, “the world’s leading health-and-wellness publisher,” and “the granddaughter of the founder of the organic movement in America.”

lady-fett:

Bill Nye The Science Guy is going to be on Dancing With The Stars.

what a time to be alive.

adam-ant-ly:

mirificentia:

WHY DID THIS MAKE ME SO HAPPY

His face in the second to last picture omg

He’s all FUCK YEAH I HAVE A FOOT PARTY HARD

and that RED?  Oooh that’s like the Louboutin of feet

ON MY WAY TO STEAL YOUR MAN WITH MY NEW FANCY FOOT BITCH

fuckyeahcroissant:

:(

poor croissant blog. here, have a croissant:

I used Nicole Cliffe's piece "Getting the Body You've Always Wanted" from The Hairpin in my essay class last year. It was something of a hit. There were only women in the class. I recommended they read The 'Pin because I'm totally up with what all the anti-racist, sex-positive kids are doing these days. I'm hip. I'm with it. I'm intersectional. I'm an ally. I've got privilege, man.And I love The 'Pin, but I loved it a little less after Cliffe made a getaway. She got with a homegirl and started The Toast, which I've been enjoying a little too much for a man my age. Whatever. I told you I was intersectional. This piece, for instance, "A Day in The Life of a Troubled Male Antihero," was basically written for me. I don't think I should excerpt it here since its full of not-nice language. (We can talk in comments.) But I want to say that after reading that piece, I felt a little less lonely in the world.And I felt that way after perusing the site. The Toast is so ratchet, as the kids would say. Wait, isn't that what the kids would say? Is that a compliment? My son told me to say that. How about "The Toast is so twerking?" "The Toast is so HAM?" No? Hmm. This is not working out like I planned. Eff it. Real Americans eat oatmeal, but they read The Toast. You should too. 

by Tracy R. Walsh

Sarah Mirk welcomes the news that, between 2007 and 2011, ”the teen birth rate nationwide dropped a whopping 25 percent.” Mirk credits a change in how the government funds sex education:

Instead of betting all its money on abstinence-only education, since 2010, reproductive health advocates pushed federal policy to instead favor “evidence-based” teen pregnancy prevention programs—meaning rigorous research has shown they’re actually effective. Or, as Katy Suellentrop of the National Campaign to Prevent Teen and Unplanned Pregnancy puts it, “The biggest policy change in teen pregnancy was in 2010 when there was a focus on using programs that work.” From 1998 to 2010, the federal government spent over a billion dollars on abstinence-only sex education. During that same time, the teen birth rates slowed, flat-lined, then actually began to increase in 2006, and then declined again. Now, the government sets aside $190 million to fund “evidence-based” teen pregnancy prevention programs like the ones working with Multnomah County’s Latino youth.

The birth rate for 15- to 19-year-olds reached a record low of 31.3 per 1,000 in 2011, according to the CDC.

by Chris Bodenner

A reader keeps the thread going:

One issue we’ve encountered is the lack of respect for No Smoking sign/rooms/hotels by Chinese and other Asian tourists. That is beyond annoying, as I react horribly to cigarette smoke and will be ill for days and even weeks after being forced to breathe it (sometimes even through hotel ventilation in the wee hours of the morning).  One time we were outside DC and a busload of Chinese tourists arrived after midnight to our completely non-smoking hotel.  They made a loud ruckus settling in on the floor above us, and within minutes we could smell smoke in our room.  Calls to management resulted in demands to stop smoking, which I can assure you were followed for maybe 10 minutes.  Headaches, coughing, and bad sinus congestion were my reward for the next four or five days.

That anecdote brings to mind a Dish post from a few years ago:

China is the world’s largest producer and consumer of tobacco. The 2010 Global Adult Tobacco Survey, conducted by the Chinese Centers for Disease Control in partnership with the US CDC and the World Health Organization, estimates that China has 350 million smokers, or more smokers than the entire population of the United States.

(Photo: A group of men in Hong Kong enjoy a smoke as they join a crowd of people watching a large video screen showing footage of the landing of China’s astronauts back to Earth on October 17, 2005. By Samantha Sin/AFP/Getty Images)

Gail Collins opened her NYT column last week with an anecdote about her first credit card:

“I have no idea what year it was, except that it is very possible Richard Nixon was still president. I was in the Macy’s in New Haven when a woman with a clipboard came up to me and asked me if I wanted to apply for a credit card.

‘Absolutely,’ I said instantly.

She took up her pen. ‘What’s your husband’s name?’ she asked.”

Women in the comments shared their own stories of from the era. A few favorites:

by Chris Bodenner

A reader writes:

I’m really enjoying the Chinese tourist anecdotes. I live in DC and have small children. I take advantage of the amazing tourist attractions here and often take my kids to the various museums and memorials downtown. My children are also very white. Like, Norman Rockwell-white. Despite an ethnic heritage which would seemingly produce darker kids, our recessive genes have created a blonde and a redhead, both with fair skin. These kids are, for some reason, a tourist attraction unto themselves.

On multiple occasions I have been downtown and an Asian tourist or ten (not all Chinese) have gestured to my child and then to his camera and nodded hopefully at me. At first, I would just shake my head and walk quickly in the other direction, but one day I nodded back. I am not sure why. At that point the man (who was in a business suit touring the U.S. Botanic Garden) handed his camera to his friend, squatted next to my son, gave a big “thumbs-up” to his friend, and told the friend to snap the picture. My son was totally perplexed, as was I.

This happens with relative frequency, though I have only consented to it that one time. And it is always Asian tourists. I have attached a picture of it happening to my daughter. I stepped back from the stroller for a moment to document the phenomenon. In this case, none of the tourists asked to photograph my baby. They just started clicking.

“She was happy, and perfectly in line with the tradition of those women they used to call “ruined,” “fallen,” feckless, bitches in heat, ravished dolls, sweet sluts, instant princesses, hot numbers, great lays, succulent morsels, everybody’s darlings … ”

― Jean Genet, Querelle of Brest

Most days you show up to work in spite of the fact that you know it’s going to make you want to die. You do your job as best you can, quietly but diligently, keeping your complaints to yourself and negotiating the thousand little minefields that strew themselves about the arena of any human endeavor in which deadlines and hierarchies are the twin engines that fuel the drive forward. You keep your head down to the extent that you know you are there to get things done, not make it The You Show, and if you’re desperately waiting for the moment the day ends and you can finally carve out a little time for yourself, that still doesn’t detract from the effort you expend to do what you’re there to do. Then you go home, wanting to die, and make the best of the few hours they give you until you need to do it all again. You work hard, you don’t call attention to yourself, and you give it as much of yourself as you have. You, in short, deserve some kind of prize. Unfortunately, that’s not the way the world works. But there is one day a year where your toil is acknowledged, however briefly. That’s right: the Founding Fathers, in George Washington’s famous “Fuck This Shit” section of The Federalist Papers (later withdrawn due to a great deal of internecine dispute which we do not have the space to get into here), established August 25th as “the day upon which the noble worker shall sneake off to quickly imbibe whilft in the midft of his labors,” or, as it has come to be known, National Duck Out For A Drink Day. The 25th falls on a Sunday this year, meaning that today’s the day we observe the holiday in which you take time for yourself to sneak out to a nearby tavern and knock back a couple beers, slam a few shots, or, depending on how long you think you can linger, treat yourself to a few jumbo cocktails. Be sure to bring a couple co-workers with you: National Duck Out For A Drink Day is even more enjoyable if you think about it as a team-building exercise that you’ve put together on your own, where the only “trust falls” are actual stumbles. Remember, if you’re out at the bar during work hours it’s like they’re paying you to drink! Go do us proud, workers of America! (Unless your job involves creating some kind of syphilis vaccine, in which case what you’re doing is way too important for you to take even a moment away from it.) If you manage to make it back and are still in any condition to type, tell us your stories in the comments. And make sure somebody brings some mints for when you stagger up the stairs on your return. (Take the stairs, it’ll sober you up a little.) Have a great National Duck Out For A Drink Day! Who deserves it more than you?

Photo by StockLite, via Shutterstock