Dear Chantelle, I thought you should know that I’m really mad at you. I’m also really sad. I closed all my shutters and listened to “In the End.” It’s so true: “You tried so hard and got so far/ But … Read More
First Voice Message: Today, Friday, the 3rd, 4:27 a.m. — The sounds of Manhattan circa 3 a.m., most noticeably an earnestly diegetic purring. — Hey, man, I know it’s been awhile. — Palpable, nay, precocious, slurring — I’m calling to … Read More
If you’re the kind of person who treats pop music like the Plague, I’ve got news for you: You’re missing out. This March saw the release of one of the most ambitious and exhilarating albums of the year, and it’s quite defiantly pop-tastic. Certainly in its ingredients, The-Dream’s “Love Vs. Money” is no different from most other high-budget pop records. It’s filled with stuttered percussion, growling synths, and syncopated auto-tune vocals, as well as those Atlanta chants that have become a regular fixture of chart-toppers recently — you know, that slurred and drunken “ayyyy” that seems to make up the chorus of every rap single these days.
All men lusted for the firebrand they called Flaming Tina, famed for the molten fire in her hair — and for the hot temper running fierce through the noble Scblood of Lady Valentina Kennedy. Forced into marriage with the fearsome warrior of an enemy clan, Tina vowed to use her wild beauty to gain mastery over Lord Ramsay Douglas. Women hungered to be pressed against his steely chest … and men feared the brawn and rage of Black Ram Douglas. Ram swore he would make the defiant Valentina a dutiful wife after he had broken her hellion’s pride. But the girl he set out to tame became the woman who taught him what it meant to be ardently, maddeningly, gloriously tempted.”
The 1998 Lincoln Town Car Every Lincoln Town Car manufactured from 1981 to 1997 has a functionless red strip running the length just above its rear bumper. On a highway at night, this strip is dull, unreflective and visible. In … Read More
In writing about the pillow fight that took place on Friday, April 17 in front of the Frist Campus Center, I feel it is my duty to report as accurately as possible the events that transpired up to and during those ten idyllic minutes of being bathed in feathers. The following report is as honest and strictly detailed as my mind would allow.
I want to tell you about this year; I want to tell you about what’s happened. I want to tell you about what went down in “Gossip Girl” and about what’s real and what’s fake, about how time passes in Princeton, about what mattered.