HOUSEKEEPING!
My daughter is doing her summer reading, of which Theo of Golden is one of the selections.
I’m going to read it too and was thinking about doing a Book Club-type review episode after?
Is that something that might be interesting to anyone? Lemme know in the comments…
BOTTOM OF THE PYRAMID
Covid / Strep!
I came up positive for both strep and covid last week, which was most likely contracted from my attendance at a middle school cheerleading competition in Gatlinburg last weekend. This meant I had to miss both our oldest’s first college tour and seeing The Odyssey in theaters. To be clear, I’m not equating those events in terms of importance as much as I’m saying that this was not a great weekend to be sick.
I love the Smokies and the South and the emotional aesthetic of Gatlinburg, but if you ever want to be exposed to every conceivable viral pathogen, just spend a half-day there and you’ll see what your immune system is made of. Mine is soft like puppy turds, evidently.
Tom Brady!
Some people don’t know how to retire. It can be the lack of purpose or schedule. It can be the collapse of meaning. It can be the abrupt reorientation of existence within a world that no longer revolves around your professional success.
I don’t know who is advising Tom Brady but between the roast he agreed to, the crypto investing, and now this, an obviously fake feud with the lesser Paul brother (which in and of itself is a sad statement) it’s starting to get a little sad.
This is a man who blew up his marriage to a supermodel over his retirement status, and is now staging slap content with a guy whose primary export is energy drinks for sixth graders.
It's reading less like a fun new zag in his post-playing career and more like "former athlete desperate to retain relevancy."
TOM. You have seven rings. You're allowed to just golf. Less is more.
MIDDLE OF THE PYRAMID
Explosive Diarrhea!
Now look; I’m not saying the experience and exertion of explosive diarrhea warrants middle of the pyramid status. I would, however, like to make the case that it has the requisite urgency and establishment of stakes that an illness of its kind SHOULD have.
Regular diarrhea is blasé. Boring. Barely a threat. Regular diarrhea is something we play Russian roulette with every time we choose Chipotle, Taco Bell, or grocery store sushi.
But EXPLOSIVE diarrhea? Well now you have my attention.
And here’s the thing: the branding isn’t even marketing; it’s just honesty. The CDC officially describes this cyclospora situation using the phrase “sometimes explosive bowel movements.” That ‘sometimes’ is doing a lot in the description because it makes it feel like the worst game of Wheel of Fortune ever.
But the real twist of this outbreak? It’s not just that all the exploded toilets lead back to Taco Bell. It’s that the culprit was the shredded lettuce. AKA, the ingredient included in your Taco Bell order purely out of performative ambivalence. The lettuce exists to present the idea that maybe there is something nutritional going on here, and now, that tepid piece of nutrient pageantry is leveling public restrooms across the nation and making local produce sections look like something from a 1990s Soviet-era farmer’s market.
Speaking of diarrhea...
The Hawk!
I don’t know why I spent the time out of my one wild and precious life to watch this show, but I did. It’s a fantastic example of a TV comedy that should have been a movie, but because of the current market for comedies, was instead turned into a Netflix fiasco.
I would explain the plot to you, but it doesn’t matter because the plotting isn’t really instructive to the show as much as it’s an excuse for Will Ferrell to do Will Ferrell things. Molly Shannon gives a nice if unnecessary performance as his estranged wife and Jimmy Tatro plays his son.
Honestly, the real magic of the show is in the chemistry between Will Ferrell and Fortune Feimster, a caddy he finds at a Wal-Mart after his long-time caddy drops dead on the course.
The problem with this show is that it’s not disciplined enough to do anything grounded with any of the characters and it’s a watered down amalgamation of other golf concepts already in the streaming world: Happy Gilmore and Stick.
In what will eventually be a biopic of Will Ferrell’s life, a show like this will firmly exist in the montage of disappointing and underwhelming output that hopefully precedes a return to form because this ain’t it. Does Will Ferrell miss and need Adam McKay to be competent? People are asking…
TOP OF THE PYRAMID
Elsie Fitzpatrick is 81, gloriously grumpy, and frequently calls her neighbors dipshits. Then, one of those neighbors turns up dead, and everyone learns that Elsie used to be Mad Mabel AKA Australia's youngest convicted murderer.
When those sixty years of carefully constructed anonymity are gone, hijinx ensue in a really fun and compelling mystery thriller that is secretly about female friendships.
Ashley read this and loved it and recommended it to me and I felt the same way.
Thrilling Tales of Modern Men by Danny McBride
Yes, that Danny McBride. The Kenny Powers guy. The Righteous Gemstones guy. He wrote a short story collection, it debuted on the NYT bestseller list, and it’s exactly what I was hoping for: ten stories about men who believe in themselves with an intensity wholly unsupported by the evidence.
A mall magician attempts a stunt that could kill him.
A washed-up sitcom actor wages a revenge campaign against the coyote that ate his dog.
A man who so badly wants to keep his hair that he will subject himself to unconventional treatments.
It’s sharper and weirder and more unexpectedly emotional than a celebrity book has any right to be.
Bonus: the audiobook is read by a genuinely unhinged roster: Eric Andre, John Goodman, Sturgill Simpson, and yes, Walton Goggins.
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