Wattup! My first feature write up for Orisue is now up on their website. Please check out the link for a lil guide to Orisue’s Spring fashion.
Read it. It’s good for you.
Hi. Hello. How ya' doin'?
» Orisue Spring '12 Guide
2012/04/30
31,930 notes
31,930 notes
Pug Immediately Regrets Buying Trampoline
A Seattle pug named Franklin saw a trampoline at Target and did what any other self-respecting American would in that situation — he slapped down his debit card and rolled that sucker home.
After a good hour scouting the perfect location and tending to some basic assembly, he was ready to hop on.
“He’s been bouncing for about five hours now,” says Gerald Robinson, one of about 40 onlookers who have encircled the hopeless pup. “You can tell he wants out, but he hasn’t been able to break the cycle. I sure hope he kept the receipt.”
Via Jill Watson, by way of Bunny Food.
2012/04/27
281 notes
281 notes
Possum Belly Pipe Shelves
Inject a little creativity into your interior design with this unique shelving system from Stella Bleu Designs. Made from vintage piping and twisted into interesting shapes and designs, you’re sure to catch a few eyes with this on your walls.
(Via Surplus)
(Source: closedparty, via airows)
2012/04/26
2,088 notes
2,088 notes
I love this. Ben Yagoda wrote “Fanfare for the Comma Man” for The Times earlier this week:
If you’re writing for publication, something else that comes into play is house style. This is seen most famously in the so-called Oxford comma — the one that goes after the second-to-last item in a series. Referring to the Philadelphia Phillies outfield as “Pence, Victorino and a left fielder-by-committee” would be fine in this newspaper but not in The New Yorker, which would change it to “Pence, Victorino, and a left fielder-by-committee.”
The New Yorker has always been scrupulous, bordering on fetishistic, about commas, in large part because of its founder Harold Ross’s mania for precision and clarity. E.B. White, who was subject to the magazine’s editing for more than five decades, remarked in a Paris Review interview, “Commas in The New Yorker fall with the precision of knives in a circus act, outlining the victim.” There are many examples, but one particular comma use is consistently and pretty much only found in The New Yorker.
(That E.B. White anecdote has done a few rounds of the internetosphere by now, but I always really like it.) Which drew a response from “the keeper of the comma shaker” at The New Yorker:
Everyone knows that The New Yorker is famously fuddy-duddy for its use of “close” punctuation. The copy editor from whom I inherited the comma shaker was herself not a fan of our style on commas; hence her painstaking creation of this one-of-a-kind item—a cannister (we spell it with two “n”s) about the size of a giant can of grated cheese, wrapped in brown paper flecked with hand-drawn commas, and topped with a perforated blue lid. The joke, of course, is that we are overliberal in our use of commas and ought to be more judicious.
