Of all the blog posts in all the world, what do you think is the percentage of posts that are just discussions of the writer’s failure to regularly blog? Probably a lot.
During the last episode, I spent most of my time mentally replacing the awed facial expressions of cast members gazing at Karen as she sings with the horrified expressions of “Game of Thrones” characters staring at King Joffrey as he tortures minions. It helped.
This is my new favorite TV game.
Fun! (I’ve also heard “soda pop” used in parts of St. Louis, which seems to me to be a characteristically Missouran equivocation.)
One of the clearest regional differences in the U.S. can found by tracking the words people use to refer to soft drinks, which is in fact the map you saw at the top of this story. Pop or soda, or even Coke, these small linguistic differences are not as small as we might think. While “soda” commands the Northeast and West Coast (green) and “pop” is in between (black), “Coke” reigns in the south (turquoise). These small distinctions can often act as touchstones for larger cultural differences.
Read more. [Image: Samuel Arbesman]
(And the one time Christian Grey bites her lip for her, which seems to me to be shockingly few times for someone who is in possession of a Red Room of Pain.)
pp. 20-21 But still, I can admire him from afar, surely? No harm can come of that. And if I find a photographer, I can do some serious admiring tomorrow. I bite my lip in anticipation and find myself grinning like a schoolgirl.
pp. 28-29 Once or twice he runs his long, graceful fingers through his now dry but still disorderly hair. Hmm … I’d like to do that. The thought comes unbidden into my mind, and my face flames. I bite my lip and stare down at my hands again, not liking where my wayward thoughts are headed.
pp. 53-54 “I’d like to bite that lip,” he whispers darkly.
Oh my. I am completely unaware that I am chewing my bottom lip. My mouth pops open as I gasp and swallow at the same time.
p. 56 My breathing alters as my heart races. His head turns fractionally toward me, his eyes darkest slate. I bite my lip.
p. 60 “Hi, Elliott,” I smile at him, and I’m aware that I’m biting my lip.
pp. 68-69 “Anastasia, stop biting your lip, please. It’s very distracting.”
p. 75 His voice darkens. “I want you very badly, especially now, when you’re biting your lip again.”
p. 78 “Is there anything you won’t do?”
"I don’t know."
"What do you mean you don’t know?"
I squirm uncomfortably and bite my lip.
p. 80 And he turns to look at me. “You’re biting your lip.” His voice is husky, and he’s eyeing me speculatively.
p. 81 “I want to bite this lip,” he murmurs against my mouth, and carefully he tugs at it with his teeth.
p. 86 “You’re biting your lip, and you haven’t answered me.” He’s frowning. I grin up at him impishly.
p. 95 “Stop biting your lip. It’s very distracting, and I happen to know you’re not wearing anything under my shirt which makes it even more distracting,” he growls.
p. 96 His hand comes up, and he grasps my chin, tugging it so my lip is released from the grip of my teeth. I’m not even aware I’ve been biting my lip.
p. 98 “I know that lip is delicious, I can attest to that, but will you stop biting it?” he says through clenched teeth. “You chewing it makes me want to fuck you, and you’re sore, okay?”
pp. 99-100 My lips are parted to accommodate my breathing … very deliberately I gently bite my bottom lip and then run my tongue across it, tracing where my teeth have been.
pp. 101-102 I smile and consciously bite my lip. He eyes me speculatively.
p. 109 “What is it, Anastasia?” he asks. How does he know I’m chewing something over in my mind? He reaches up and pulls my chin.
"Stop biting your lip, or I will fuck you in the elevator, and I don’t care who gets in with us."
p. 112 “I’ve really enjoyed this weekend,” I murmur. He narrows his eyes at me again.
"Stop biting that lip," he growls. "Me, too," he adds.
pp. 138-139 “Are you biting your lower lip deliberately?” he asks darkly.
I blink up at him, gasping, freeing my lip.
"I wasn’t aware I was biting my lip," I murmur softly.
pp. 140-141 “Now then.” He licks his bottom lip slowly. “You’re biting that lip, Anastasia. You know the effect it has on me.” He places his long index finger over my mouth, a warning.
p. 157 “Don’t bite your lip,” he whispers.
I frown. Damn it. I don’t even know that I’m doing it.
p. 159 I bite my lip and his expression changes instantly. He looks sternly at me.
p. 175 “Mr. Grey,” Ray murmurs, his expression indecipherable except perhaps for the slight widening of his big brown eyes. They slide over my face with a when-were-you-going-to-give-me-this-news look. I bite my lip.
p. 183 “Hey, stop this,” he commands softly, cupping my chin again and pulling at it gently so I release my lower lip from my teeth.
p. 188 “So, what’s your general attitude to receiving pain?” Christian looks expectantly at me. “You’re biting your lip,” he says darkly.
p. 193 “I can’t keep still if you’re going to bite that lip,” he warns, then arches his pelvis up off the bed so I’m able to tug down his trousers and his boxers at the same time, whoa … freeing him. He kicks his clothes to the floor.
Holy Moses, he’s all mine to play with, and suddenly it’s Christmas.
p. 231 “You’re biting your lip,” he breathes. “You know what that does to me,” he adds darkly.
p. 250 “Don’t bite your lip,” he murmurs huskily. “I want to do that.”
p. 260 I frown, and abruptly his gaze darkens. He reaches up and grasps my chin, freeing my lip from teeth.
"One day I will fuck you in this elevator, Anastasia, but right now you’re tired—so I think we should stick to a bed."
p. 307 He smirks as I give him back the words he’s said to me before. His eyes darken.
"Please stop biting your lip. You’re in my room, I haven’t set eyes on you for nearly three days, and I’ve flown a long way to see you."
p. 313 I bite my bottom lip, trying to curb the sudden rush of anger that surfaces.
p. 331 His expression changes, growing darker.
"Don’t bite your lip," he orders. "Not here, not now." His eyes harden momentarily, and for a moment he looks so deliciously dangerous. "If I can’t have you here, don’t tempt me."
p. 362 “And you’re biting your lip,” he breathes, moving slowly to his left as I move to mine.
So New York Magazine has a pretty great flowchart for anyone looking for smutty reads that aren’t Fifty Shades of Grey.
(p.s. According to my Kindle app (YES I BOUGHT IT FROM AMAZON I’M SORRY PUBLISHING), I have read 46% of Fifty Shades of Grey. It has taken me nearly three weeks to make it this far. I desperately want to understand what the secret to its popularity is so I can use it for my own nefarious purposes, but I’m honestly not sure if I can take another reference to Anastasia Steele biting her effing lip.)
Mr. Kagan’s book rich book shows, ultimately, that there is no single, all-purpose consolation for death.
In the words of Britta Perry: “Duh doy.”
What’s the difference between a fertilized egg, a corporation, and a woman? One of them isn’t considered a person in Oklahoma.Kristen Schaal on The Daily Show (via kateoplis)
Some days I just want to post things that make me happy. And this animation of Debussy’s Clair de Lune makes me very happy.
Oh hey, look, here’s a not-at-all problematic photo from the new Lone Ranger movie. (Yes, that’s Johnny Depp there on the left.)
Related! Sherman Alexie’s essay “I Hated Tonto (Still Do)”