Am I the only person alive under the age of 40 who knows what Fletcher's Castoria tastes like?
I haven't talked to my father in about 8 years. There's a story, but no major life-crushing reason. Our relationship was always (and I mean this in a COMPLETELY non-creepy way) more similar to what you'd have with a charming yet narcissistic boyfriend than your standard father-daughter one, so I feel comfortable saying I dumped him. That's pretty much how I roll.
I have never heard anyone sing with more excitement about anything, in any song, ever in my life, than little bb Michael singing about Santa Claus right here. Which is awesome considering he never celebrated Christmas as a kid.
LAST December, I made a commitment to write something every day for the month of December to get myself in the writing habit. Knowing that my weakness is "not having anything to say," the glory of Paul McCartney (may he rest in peace) brought me an idea - a Holiday Jam a day, along with maybe a bit of poetic waxing about something or the other.
One could say that the instruction in itself is harmful because girls are brought up to modify their bodies for their partners' pleasure… but it doesn't sound much different from many of the physical "norms" that American girls are taught… and pulling on labia sounds a lot less painful than a Brazilian wax.
"...the only way to do great work is to love what you do." -- that sentiment goes so much farther than setting a career goal. What would it look like to love everything you do, and to do only that which you can be proud of and love?
There's not really a point in reviewing Soul per se; nearly everyone I know eats there regulrly and the food and drinks are consistently good. What's been driving me across town at odd hours of the day and night are their nightly specials, which tend to be a departure from their regular menu fare in content but deliciously, not in style.