do you ever feel like there’s just so many pretty girls but most dudes are just subpar like there are radiant goddesses everywhere and just piles and piles of guys in backwards baseball caps and sandals
it’s called makeup
you can put eyeliner on a frat boy that doesn’t change the fact that’s he’s wearing a neon muscle shirt and nike flip flops
Hemingway and James Joyce were drinking buddies in Paris. Joyce was thin and bespectacled; Hemingway was tall and strapping. When they went out Joyce would get drunk, pick a fight with a bigger guy in the bar and then hide behind Hemingway and yell, “Deal with him, Hemingway. Deal with him.”
Between this and the story about him reassuring F. Scott Fitzgerald re dick size, I’m developing a picture of Hemingway as the mother hen of the disaffected white male literary set of the early 20th century.
He probably called up Steinbeck sometimes and was like I CAN’T EVEN WITH THESE DIPSHITS and Steinbeck was all “That’s what you get for living in Paris, asshole”.