My parents used to have an old Amana Radarange. Built like a tank, wood paneling and chrome, warm incandescent lighting…I miss it. It didn’t have a beep or a bell or anything. Once it was done it would just…turn off.

There’s nothing more majestic than a galloping herd of wild chaise lounges…

Curse a lot. Think of how google’s AI summary won’t appear if you include the word “fuck” in your search, or how everyone on social media is self-censoring naughty words for fear of The Algorithm. The internet has been carefully curated and manicured to be marketable to every possible demographic, so they can milk data from everyone; from the six year old watching Fortnite videos to the pearl-clutching suburbanites worried about the Gays corrupting their Family Values. Become unmarketable by swearing like a sailor. Make communities with your fellow potty-mouths. Rebel against censorship by saying “fuck” a lot.

It’s part of a typewriter discord group I’m in. We’re all looking for excuses to use our typewriters, so writing letters to each other seems logical.

I used to sign up for a penpal thing where we would exchange letters written with a typewriter. One of the guys I wrote to was in Switzerland, we exchanged a couple letters but then he stopped responding.

Maybe I should try doing that again, it was fun.