To Xfinity and Beyond

Two years ago, Joe got really into Mr. Money Mustache. I rue the day he found that blog. Mr. Money Mustache advocates an intense cheapskate sensibility that was diametrically opposed to my profession at the time (running a fashion/shopping blog called Racked DC). 

Mr. Money Mustache writes posts with names like “Luxury is Just Another Weakness” and he would surely scoff at $30 fitness classes. He retains special disdain, however, for anyone who subscribes to cable. Enjoy your 100+ channels now, he would say, because you are destined to die a pauper.

So Joe somehow ended up talking me into cutting cable, even though it was only $20 more a month than our stupid internet service. I've been making that argument to him for the past two years and he must've finally got sick of me saying it, because we just got cable back! Ironically, I'm balling out with cable after I got laid off. 

For some reason, I'm OBSESSED with Morning Joe. I can't even tell you why. I love Mika and I felt so informed while watching it. I thought I needed Morning Joe now that we are in the Trump era, shudder, but the jury is still out on this one. 

Anyway, we have this fancy voice-controlled Xfinity remote now. The cable guy told me all about it when he was setting it up, but in the back of my head, I thought the remote was extravagant and I would just use the guide like old times. This voice control thing works really, really well though.

Maybe the best part about our new cable is listening to Joe talk into the remote, saying the names of the ridiculous shows he loves in a very slow, deliberate manner. It sounds a bit like this:

"White. Collar. Brawlers"



I'm not any better though. "America's. Next. Top. Model." 

"Real Housewives. Beverly. Hills." 


Tunes Tuesday: "Real Love Baby," Father John Misty

It's definitely a sign of how disconnected I am from new music right now that I didn't know about this excellent new Father John Misty track until now. I'm a true fan girl and this song was released six months ago, for goodness sake!!! 

I should probably put up a Google Alert for him. Instead, I had to stumble across a mean-spirited passage this fall about Father John Misty in the WaPo review of Lady Gaga's Joanne while reading a PRINTED OUT NEWSPAPER, egads.

White men continue to enjoy the most security in our society, and because fraudulence doesn’t require much risk, Caucasoid fraud-bros are all around us. Among the most irritating to materialize in recent memory is Father John Misty, an obsequious indie-folk carpetbagger whose ­zany-smug lyrics about sex and cynicism help to posit him as a bit of a cad. When the New Yorker recently invited him to give a public talk in Manhattan, the singer greeted the audience by saying, “I cannot believe you guys bought tickets to this.” A fraud move for sure, but also something he might consider saying at the outset of every Father John Misty concert.
— Chris Richards, Washington Post

Listen, a Lady Gaga country album was truly something no one asked for, but leave FMJ alone. "Caucasoid fraud-bro obsequious indie-folk carpet bagger?" It's an act and he is a national treasure.

Please ignore the haters and keep making reverb-soaked, wall-of-sound, sincerely fake indie-folk love songs, Father John Misty! Just like this one.