The Crash the Superbowl campaign from Doritos—the one where people make ads for free in the hopes of achieving snack-marketing glory—produces mixed results. But this one is pretty good, because it follows Advertising Rule #1: porn = good.
Thanksgiving and Guy Fieri go together like bleached spiky hair and white shades. Enjoy the grub tomorrow, everybody! And don’t forget: swallow, not inhale.
So now we trick college kids into thinking they’ve eaten meat by piping smell through a plug-in app. Just what every dorm needs: another thing wafting.
Twinkies, Breaking Bad, eventually everything in life becomes an act of letting go…
During a recent trip down an internet rabbit hole, I happened upon the website for Brooklyn Grange, one of the largest rooftop farms in the world. Yay Locavorism! But as I began to I poke around, things began to prick me like the thorns of an organic, non-GMO rose. Like this:
One early morning in May of 2010, a ragtag crew appeared on Northern Blvd, emerging from the subway steps at 36th St and alighting from bicycles, assembling in the dim light outside a sprawling building. They donned hard hats and thick, plastic-coated work gloves, and armed with shovels and shears, they set out to build the largest soil rooftop farm in the world. The job took six days of craning 3,000lb soil sacks seven stories up to the roof. The hardworking bunch of some two-dozen of our friends and family members shoveled in the sun and wind amidst the roar of motorized buggies and the shouted communications of a team single-minded in its goal…And slowly, a farm took shape.
and fucking THIS:
Now, let me just say that I fully support the ambitions of urban farming and yes I recognize that this type of snarky critiquing is counterproductive and silly but
Can we get a little nuanced here for a sec? I present this video not for its holistic quality, but for us to consider making a push—as a democratic and enlightened society—for the bird squawk to be the universal “bleep” noise in all film and music. Folks, this is the new sound of censorship.
Birds are two-for-two this morning!
This textbook case of McNugget rage seems to have been brought on by excessive gaming, meth, and early onset of reality. Only breakfast is served before 11AM. That’s the social contract under which we all live ma’am.