my uncle phil decorates his 18-wheeler every year for christmas. this year’s tribute to the baby jesus is positively clark griswoldian in scope. now i really want a hannukah truck! and amelia has THEOLOGICAL PROOF why this should be so: “18 is a sacred number is Judaism! (There are numerical assignations to letters, and the equivalent of ‘Life’ (chai, like ‘l’chaim!’) is 18! So basically what I’m saying is that all 18-wheelers are Jewish.”
The South. It’s better than you’ve heard.
The film flirts with becoming radicalized here—could the Griswolds join the proletariat? Will the plot, laden as it is with the markings of the upper-class, improbably culminate in a searing indictment of late ’80s capitalism?
Nope! Instead Clark gives an impassioned speech about how employees depend on their bonuses so they can do things like buy pools. His boss is incredibly moved by the plight of these people of comfortable means, and in a fit of pay-us ex machina he not only reinstates bonuses, he ups them by 20 percent.”
"national lampoon’s christmas vacation" depicts totally classist, bourgeois crisis, and i wrote about it for the billfold. i also calculated how much his lights would have cost to run.
bonus jump suit points to editor mike dang for getting an image of todd and margo in there. (also, i adapted this from a piece i read at scene missing magazine last month.) - via brookehatfield
Brooke’s been doing a lot of writing things lately. And of course, is better at it then lots of us. Read and enjoy.
So if you don’t have cash for your fare on the Metra, you get an IOU. Which looks like this.
Happy Chillsgiving errybody. #soblessed #pommimosas
Y’all, I thought I’d be sort of sad I’m doing this chill Thanksgiving thing again but! No travel or annoying family or whatever. Pumped. Worked from home today and quit at 2 to work out, I have a Peapod order with lots of booze coming soon.
Dinner tomorrow with Kym and her fam (ordered from Smoke Daddy). Then brunch in the burbs on Friday with Amelia & Lain and all their Chicago people. Then Saturday brunch with Christine. Go out Saturday night with nice people. And books and Netflix and laying on my ass. And hanging with anyone else in Chicago? Whatever.
I will miss my mother’s food though. And the mountains. But my parents are spending Thanksgiving with my brother in Colorado so none of that is even going on.
Hope you all have lovely weekends. And get just enough love.