Very Gray Gardens

Last week I ventured to Newport, Rhode Island to check out the notorious mansions built in the late 19th and early 20th century by the nation's wealthiest families. It was totally worth it. 

There are several mansion tours you can go on, but I hit Chateau-sur-Mer, the only of the historical society's houses to have been a full-time residence, and The Breakers, the massive summer palace built by Cornelius Vanderbilt.

The former was kind of meh, but The Breakers is a must-see for anyone schooling on the East Coast. It's unimaginatively big, and the audio tour absolutely rocks. Plus, had the manse not been sold to the historical society, Anderson Cooper (son of 70s jean designer Gloria Vanderbilt) could have been an inhabitant. So there's a little journalism trivia for you newsies out there.

It's a mad mad mad mad mad mad mad mad world

This is unbelievably terrible.

Shameless Self-Promotion

In case you have been wondering what I've been up to of late, you can check it out:

Here

Here

Here

and Here

Finally!

Finals week looms. 

Right now, I'm sitting on my couch studying for my American Presidency final, so I thought it would be appropriate to post one of my favorite photos of all time:  a jubilant newly elected Harry Truman holding up the Chicago Tribune's incorrect headline.

I mean, you can't get it right all the time, but...

What my career is looking like

Via NYT.

Don't they all look just the same

If I had money, I would buy a house.

To err is to pun

Puns are the feeblest species of humor because they are ephemeral: whatever comic force they possess never outlasts the split second it takes to resolve the semantic confusion. Most resemble mathematical formulas: clever, perhaps, but hardly occasion for knee-slapping. The worst smack of tawdriness, even indecency, which is why puns, like off-color jokes, are often followed by apologies. Odds are that a restaurant with a punning name — Snacks Fifth Avenue, General Custard’s Last Stand — hasn’t acquired its first Michelin star.