The April 16 Round-Up
Jordan comes to terms with his smoking and Ryan comes to terms with "Dear Abby"
Hi everyone,
We’ve had a few manufacturing delays this week but at least we’re not making vaccines, right? No. Too soon.
Anyway, we hope you’re having a great week and that you all find someone who defends you from bobcat attacks.
Or meet someone who’s pretty chill about internet strangers screen-capturing social media pictures of your feet. If you’re a Millennial looking for a guide to help you navigate the “brave new world” of Gen Z, here’s a good one. Finally, unrelated, but does anyone know anyone willing to trade their dogecoin for Animal Crossing turnips, GameStop shares, or Beanie Babies? Asking for a friend.
Anyway, in the TWR corner of the internet, this week featured Jordan’s debut on his smoking habit and Ryan getting salty with Dear Abby.
Our finance tip of the week? Invest in wheel estate; read and subscribe.
Holy Smokes: On Coming to Terms with My Shame Around Smoking
By Jordan T. Jones
The last time I smoked was over two weeks ago—I had one Marlboro gold. It was lightly raining outside and I felt like I needed to create some headspace. My reason for smoking now is that it's an excuse to be doing something while doing nothing. The time it takes to burn is the perfect amount of time to mull over an idea or some kind of worry. It can keep the tempo of a long, spirited philosophical conversation or do all the talking when the only thing you can manage is the beginning and ending of a short, difficult thought. And every now and then, you inhale deep enough that time seems to stop. It’s as if the fog in your brain clears out and you remember what it’s like to be in your body again.
The (Completely Fabricated) Truth About Dear Abby
By Ryan White
If you’re looking for advice, I’ve got some...advice….for you (note to self: buy a thesaurus). Never, not in a million years, consider reaching out to the one they call “Dear Abby.” Unsure about your relationship? Find a Magic Eight Ball. Have an enticing but risky job offer? Read a horoscope. Blessed with the chance to win a free iPod by clicking here? Click, dammit! The deal expires in seconds! But in none of these circumstances--or any circumstances in life--should you consult “Dear Abby.”