101. The Week in Me
Sticking with suggestions and sundry this week, except for the VITAL NEWS that I crossed off an item on my bucket list last Sunday by seeing MR. 305, MR. WORLDWIDE himself, PITBULL, in concert with Maris:
To read:
My pal (who I met on Substack!)
has a book of poetry out, a meta text in a way about the divine muses in his life and our lives who inspire our lurid thoughts and incandescent words. I actually bought two of this book because I misplaced one during *the divorce* and it is still lingering in my apartment somewhere but the other is now completely read, pictured above, and on my bookshelf! What I would give to have someone write about me this way. You can buy it here.Their essay spoke to much of the unspoken text of the recent experience I had with someone I thought a friend:
97. How I Became Single
This is an extremely rare post for paid subscribers only due to the deeply personal nature of this essay. I am trusting you with my trauma: please honor that with your discretion. Please know that an unwanted sexual experience is depicted, and skip if you are not in a place to receive that now.
This is the moment in which I reveal I am a gargantuan nerd and suggest one of my favorite fictional efforts ever written, a lengthy fanfic of Renly Baratheon and Loras Tyrell’s love named after a Paul Simon song. (I could write about 75 issues of this newsletter about Patchface and other characters not given their due in the translation from A Song of Ice and Fire to Game of Thrones, a PALTRY FACSIMILE OF THE ORIGINAL TEXT.
FASCINATING snippet from
’s quasquicentennial ode to Hitch.
Ai’s “Conversation” (for Robert Lowell), at the Paris Review:
My pal
started a Substack, writing about her independent clothemaking, sourcing vintage patterns and balancing a vocational art with motherhood and life. I enjoyed this post:
This is literally just Simone and Lugosi:
(Boobie is always the little spoon.)
Actually my babies:
Various and sundry:
One of y’all go with me.
, road trip?
Pooomama is one of my most cherished Instagram doggies. She always has a mucus bubble hanging out of her nose and she is very small. My friend Rebecca fired this lovely pencil cup by hand and the official account reposted!
This is me. Someone find me a damn husband!!!
Love you bitches,
TG
Love you too
Ok this is going to sound weird, but I think I’ve been to that fairy tale place before? I have vague memories of walking around a weird little fantasy village and scrounging for gems. Or it’s just possible I’ve seen that Mariah Carey video. Either way, I’m down for a journey!