Hi, My name is Sean.
You can e-mail me at sean at seanleffers dot com.
la.petit.figue’s post reminded me how I have been seeing Stuff White People Like all over since I saw the site. Like last weekend when I was at The Grove and I saw White People having a picnic with food purchased from Whole Foods and their black lesbian friends while enjoying a free concert by the Counting Crows that was sponsored by Apple.
But i’m pretty sick of SWPL.
lovepuppy:
It is, absolutely inappropriate to tell a thin person “you could stand to gain a few pounds”.
You would never say that to someone in the reverse position. Unless I am dressed inappropriately (for, say, my job), please do not comment to me. Unless its a compliment. Those are always welcomed.
yeah, i’m pretty self-conscious about my ethiopian famine-victim body sometimes. i just have a fast metabolism bitches!
ALSO, it’s not helping that in the trailer for that new Jack and Jill movie her friend says that she looks bulemic even though she eats alot, and then it turns out that she’s dying. thanks alot.
“all good things are wild and free”
- text from one of my best friends Sunny, who is in the Peace Corps in Togo.
- under usual circumstances this might have made me a little depressed, with the prospect of being chained to this desk for the rest of the day coming to mind, however, I booked a flight to Africa yesterday!
Here I come wild.
One day, when I was about 8, my mom took my brother Nick and me to the Baskin Robbins that used to be on Chestnut Street (in SF). We ordered our usual clown cones (obviously) and sat down at a table next to a father and his two daughters. I was really into balancing my chair on its back two legs at the time, and my brother was into doing whatever I was doing, and one of the little girls next to us was, i guess, a total copycat, although, not a very agile copycat. She fell, her clown cone went flying and its head smashed all over the floor. I looked at Nick, he looked at my mom; we all had our mouths clenched shut and our faces tightened giving everything we had not to burst out laughing. Nick lasted about 3 seconds, me a couple of seconds more, and my mom about ten seconds later as she yanked us through the exit trying to dodge glares from the little girls father.
I just talked to my mom over lunch for an hour and that one came up. Happy Birthday Mom! Go get yourself a clown cone!
