I am the co-publisher of Thought Catalog. Follow me on Twitter. I also use a pen name called Holden Desalles.
At the same time, I was still affected by the idea that cocaine was something of an ‘older person’s drug,’ or something—a drug that was more classy, perhaps. Definitely ‘way more mature than weed.’
Sorry I Like To Party is shot entirely by VHS camera. Remember VHS? No? Those tape things that are ‘retro’ now? To date, the majority of Erik Stinson’s film work seems to have been taken with VHS, either because he never had enough money to get a real camera or… something else.
Everything is crazy. There is a new oil spill in the Kalamazoo River that threatens to become “a tragedy of historic proportions,” says Gov. Jennifer M. Granholm, if it reaches Lake Michigan…
I was thinking about the poverty of Africans. I vomited in the bathroom, turned on the shower, and vomited again. I couldn’t stop hearing sentences repeating in my head. I tried to get in the shower and fainted. I woke up and crawled to the toilet and vomited. I was hearing demon-like noises coming from somewhere.
On Tuesday, Gawker covered one aspect of the legalization of medical marijuana with an article/ parody where, “in a bid to reassert itself as the dominant force in American life,” ‘Capitalism’ “announced that it plans to immediately counteract the coolness of the legalization of medical marijuana by poisoning it with the awfulness of factory farming.”
Dude is wearing… ski gloves in this one, and there’s some popping noise in the background, which, I guess, is Facebook chat (??). Either that or he’s adding intermittent popping sound effects to the video with some third-rate video editor. Also notice that the man is displaying a pipe in his breast pocket—what seems to be a corn cob pipe. Just sitting there…
No one paid enough attention to notice I wasn’t getting dressed in the morning, just taking acid and going to school in my pajamas. I would walk in the hallways staring forward with a neutral facial expression. I was terribly depressed. My mom eventually found out.
Seems like Bret Easton Ellis woke up alone, moaned, got out of bed, made a small portion of scrambled eggs, took a mini bottle of spring water from his refrigerator and sat down with it and his scrambled eggs at his table in front of his already-opened MacBook, looked at Esquire’s and The New Yorker’s websites, went to Twitter and typed, “The song I’ve listened to most in the last five days: ‘Heartbreak Warfare’ by John Mayer.”