johnleavittlives
JOHN LEAVITT LIVES!
Writer/Cartoonist John Leavitt continues to existLeavittalone.com @Leavittalone.
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Harry Du Bois is alive and well and living in Croatia
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ENDURANCE - It's time you knew the truth, bröther.
YOU - I am ready.
ENDURANCE - Love… time… Revachol… It's all shit.
YOU - All of it?
ENDURANCE - All of it.
YOU - Even love?
ENDURANCE - Especially love, bröther. Face it, no one's willing to make the sacrifices that are necessary, not in this day and age. Look deep inside yourself. You know it's true, because it hurts.
YOU - Hold on, who is he to me?
ESPRIT DE CORPS - He is your half-brother.
EMPATHY - There is still hope.
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Edna St. Vincent Millay was a poet whose work was definitional to the glamour of Roaring Twenties America. She was born in 1892 and when she was just seven, her mother divorced her father and took her and her sisters to live in Maine. The Millay household was one of strong, intelligent, independent women and the bond they shared is one of the most fascinating I’ve ever read about.
Millay wrote poetry from a young age, and when she was twenty, her poem Renascence got the attention of a wealthy woman who decided to sponsor her way through college. She went to Vassar and was nearly prevented from walking at her graduation for breaking curfew one to many times, but her classmates all rallied to defend her and the headmaster relented.
People could not stop falling in love with this woman. In her Vassar years, many women fell head over heels for her. She also had many affairs with men. When she did marry, in 1923, she and her husband loved each other dearly, but neither gave up the relationships they had on the side, they “lived like a pair of old bachelors.”
Her poetry is beautiful and aside from being the first woman to win a Pulitzer Prize for Poetry, she was also such an evocative wordsmith. Themes of love, death, and nature are prevalent throughout, but she has a unique twist on them. I really appreciate the way that women are depicted in her work as whole beings with wants and needs outside of being a chaste object of desire for a male narrator.
And also she’s very beautiful. I could only attach one picture here but she really is very good to look at.
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ode to a faux grecian urn
Howdy everyone,
Today's house, built in 2001, comes to you from, you guessed it, the Chicago suburbs. The house is a testimony to traditional craftsmanship and traditional values (having lots of money.) The cost of painting this house greige is approximately the GDP of Slovenia so the owners have decided to keep it period perfect (beige.) Anyway.
This 5 bedroom, 7.5 bathroom house clocks in at a completely reasonable 12,700 square feet. If you like hulking masses and all-tile interiors, it could be all yours for the reasonable price of $2.65 million.
The problem with having a house that is 12,700 square feet is that they have to go somewhere. At least 500 of them were devoted to this foyer. Despite the size, I consider this a rather cold and lackluster welcome. Cold feet anyone?
The theme of this house is, vaguely, "old stuff." Kind of like if Chuck E Cheese did the sets for Spartacus. Why the dining room is on a platform is a good question. The answer: the American mind desires clearly demarcated space, which, sadly, is verboten in our culture.
The other problem with a 12,700 square foot house is that even huge furniture looks tiny in it.
Entering cheat codes in "Kitchen Building Sim 2000" because I spent my entire $70,000 budget on the island.
Of course, a second sitting room (without television) is warranted. Personally, speaking, I'm team Prince.
I wonder why rich people do this. Surely they must know it's tacky right? That it's giving Liberace? (Ask your parents, kids.) That it's giving Art.com 75% off sale if you enter the code ROMANEMPIRE.
Something about the bathroom really just says "You know what, I give up. Who cares?" But this is not even the worst part of the bathroom...
Not gonna lie, this activates my flight or fight response.
If you remember Raggedy Ann you should probably schedule your first colonoscopy.
Anyways, that does it for the interior. Let's take a nice peek at what's out back.
I love mowing in a line. I love monomaniacal tasks that are lethal to gophers.
Alright, that does it for this edition of McMansion Hell. Back to the book mines for me. Bonus posts up on Patreon soon.
If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.
Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!
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Alice your comments that freelance hitmen are always undercover cops is deeply offensive to the subcontinent of Eastern Europe
Eastern European hitmen are off duty cops and they still do the hit, is the difference
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Reminders from Tianjin Fire & Rescue
English added by me :)
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Al Pacino as Frank Serpico is a cop who loves dancing and drugs, makes bizarre clothing and facial hair choices, has a smoking hot blonde girlfriend and clears cases while every other cop hates him. He’s pre-game Harry DuBois.
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When I was little my mom’s meatloaf was my favorite food. But ONLY her meatloaf. I didn’t like anyone else’s, and she told me that she would teach me how to make it when I was older. And when I was like 19? She finally taught me, but she told me never to tell anyone else and I was like weird but okay
Anyway, she was super fucking homophobic and abusive to me when I told her I was gay, so here’s the recipe
4-6 lbs of Hamburger/turkey burger
1 pk onion soup mix OR ranch mix
1 TBs ketchup
1 Tbs spicy brown mustard,
1 Tbs bbq sauce
1 Tbs steak sauce
1 egg
mix, shape into a loaf in a big pan, and bake at 350 for 2 hrs (maybe 2 and a half if you’re feeling dangerous)
You can get almost all of these ingredients at the dollar store, and have leftovers if it’s just you. The leftovers make great tacos if (taco seasoning is also like a dollar). Enjoy your revenge loaf
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listening to fleetwood mac is like. i don’t know this song but let’s give it a shot. oh wait i do know this song. i’ve heard it a million times and always liked it, i just didn’t know the name. on some level i kind of assumed that song was just an ambient part of the world the way the sound of the wind or birdsong in the trees was but apparently it’s by fleetwood mac. neat.
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Brideshead Revisited (1981), Ep1 "Et in Arcadia Ego"
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David Dastmalchian
Photographed by Mike Ruiz for PhotoBook Magazine
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Villains in Addams Family movies go to really unnecessary lengths to defraud them of the family fortune. These people just give it away on whims all the time. If I just walked into the house and started wearing their clothes and spending their money, they wold start introducing me as Cousin Intruder and forget there was ever a time I didn’t live with them.
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MOLDY REFUSE HEAP — You study the earth. A pitiful attempt at compost lies before you, a smear of dirt and disarray, with plenty of manmade, shattered objects strewn in alongside the organic material. A loaf of bread, still wrapped in its plastic lining, though with a huge gash on the side exposing it to the elements, is festooned with little brown mushrooms.
INLAND EMPIRE — Those mushrooms are looking at you. Mocking you.
YOU — What? They’re mushrooms…
INLAND EMPIRE — Look at that one with its ugly little head. Looks like a big wart, and also like it’s giving you the finger. Are you going to let that bastard give you the finger?
HALF-LIGHT — SHOOT IT! It’s trying to make you look stupid!
YOU — [Draw your gun and aim it at the mushroom-bread wad.]
KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant shifts nervously, trying to parse your movements. He’ll no doubt wrest the gun away from you should the need arise.
YOU — [Shout.] “Tell me the name of God, you fungal piece of shit!”
SHIVERS — The bread, which once seemed inert, writhes with life before your very eyes. Wheat from faraway fields is milled into flour, mixed with water and sugar and yeast and baked in some mass-production facility God knows how far away only to come to rest, spurned and uneaten, at your feet. No, not uneaten- the yeast, another fungus, was killed, incinerated, in the process of baking. The mold reclaims what remains of its fallen brethren. If you listen close enough, you can almost hear it speaking…
SHIVERS — CAN YOU FEEL YOUR HEART BURNING. CAN YOU FEEL THE STRUGGLE WITHIN. THE FEAR WITHIN ME IS BEYOND ANYTHING YOUR SOUL CAN MAKE. YOU CANNOT KILL ME IN A WAY THAT MATTERS.
YOU — [Cock your gun.] “I’M NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU!”
KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant’s muscles tense now, poised to strike. A look of apprehension- no, fear and concern- crosses his face…
YOU — [Shoot the piece of moldy bread.]
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — You hadn’t realized it, but your whole frame is trembling, shaking. Tears stream down your face. You hunch, in shame and agony. Like some forgotten gargoyle creature out of myth.
PAIN THRESHOLD [Medium: Failure] — The recoil sends a throb down your arm, like you’ve just been kicked.
KIM KITSURAGI — He places a hand on your shoulder, and you flinch. “Detective, if I may be so bold as to ask… What did you mean by that?”
COMPOSURE [Difficult: Success] — Hey now. Straighten up. It’s Kim. You must answer in a coherent fashion.
INLAND EMPIRE — Screw coherence. The fervent squigglings of your brain will emerge from your mouth until the very stars blink out.
YOU — [Compose yourself.] “Decay exists as an extant form of life.”
KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant blinks, bewildered. He has no response to that, to your frighteningly calm visage, still stained with drying tears. Behind him, the drunks raise their glasses of brew, yowl a cheer.
IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — “Terrifying answer, Tequila Sunset! Have a nice day!”
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IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "When I lost my keys, I lost more than access to my apartment -- I also lost my leverage over humanity. I wasn't a high-concept creative director anymore, I was just some homeless asshole with a premium Sansarique Lickra(TM) tracksuit."
George is probably my third favorite character in the game (and I haven't even completed the ultra-liberal quest yet!), so I had to draw him.
I think if he saw this he'd say, "That shit is so medium-concept I wouldn't touch it with a stick."
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