☁️ Miles High Club ☁️ 🇮🇹 Big Italy 🇮🇹

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Miles Klee
Miles Klee
Stop right where you are. This is Miles High Club.

Howdy, y'all. I escaped the east coast just ahead of that hurricane with the fancy name and have returned to luxuriate in my natural desert climate. But one thing I’m already missing about the east coast, let me tell you, is the Italian food. We got up to Providence, Rhode Island one afternoon and feasted on a deli “grinder” and margherita pie. I was in heaven.
Walking around Little Italy, it hit me. I need to level up. Am I real fan of the culture or what? Sure, I have great taste in pizza, and I’ve watched a few Sophia Loren movies, but I’m so far I’m only scratching the surface.
Maybe I’m finally ready for…
Big Italy
???
???
Don’t be frightened — Big Italy can’t hurt you. It’s not real. I found this on a subreddit devoted to imaginary maps, and I have to admit, before I saw it, I was not prepared to consider a version of Italy containing what we, in our present history, regard as the nations of “Slovenia” and “Croatia.”
However, it did get me thinking about the arbitrary nature of Italy. As we all know, Italy (the real one) was a collection of city-states gradually unified between the mid-19th century and the end of World War I. “Italy” being a patchwork concept is the reason you can always get away with stereotyping Italians, because they identify by region, not the nation. Besides, they’re too busy getting mad about food to notice.
See? I did it right there, and I’m not canceled.
italians mad at food
tourists found rosemary in spaghetti with clams and tried to attack the chef https://t.co/0Bkmhqc1ZT
As for the size of Italy, I’m fine with how it is now. It’s a good size. Really.
Germs vs. Worms
You don’t like reading about the pandemic any more than I relish writing on the topic, but how can any of us ignore the ivermectin story? That is, the trend of coronavirus skeptics deciding to dose themselves with livestock de-worming medicine to counteract a respiratory disease that… I could have sworn… they said was fake or not a big deal or whatever.
Now let me show you exactly what someone at the FDA looked like while they were writing that bulletin:
And now let me show you some of the pro-ivermectin content you’ll find on Facebook pages such as “Ivermectin Covid-19 Testimonials,” or — my personal favorite group name — “IVERMECTIN.”
Except for the boofing guy, obviously a troll, these people are doing grievous harm to their intestinal tracts, and that’s bad. On the other hand, they can’t even agree whether to eat the stuff or rub it on topically, which is very funny. And then you have the poetic reasoning:
Matt B, PhD
I was checking out some Ivermectin FB groups this morning and this post is art. https://t.co/Jl68aGtu95
Anyway, these people should immediately stop poisoning themselves, and the doctor forcing the drug on prison inmates in Arkansas should be trampled to death by actual horses. That’s all!
Tank Talk
No, wait, I’m still here. I had sort of a question. Well, a challenge. A puzzle. One of those classic head-scratchers. Why am I stretching this out? It’s not like I have a minimum word count. Okay, focus.
You see, I have this tank top:
Front.
Front.
Back.
Back.
I discovered this tank at a vintage store and felt a powerful connection to it. The local flavor, the entrepreneurial confidence, the maverick decision to go with sleeveless merch. A+ all around. I adore the shirt, and I’m wearing it right this moment! Yet, it comes with a strange wrinkle.
Figuratively.
Bill Childs
@MilesKlee What on earth is on the front of the shirt, like, what is that drawing
I am helpless, months after buying said tank, to explain what the graphic on the front of it is supposed to be, or what possible connection it has to a California envelope company I believe has since fallen defunct.
Literally, what is that? My guess was “an envelope press,” and I have not found a lot of visual evidence to support that theory. If you, dear reader, are some kind of envelope and/or fashion and/or art expert, I urge you to drop me a line letting me know if it’s a recognizable object, a weird misprint or a steam-powered sex toy I’m not familiar with. Until then, I’ll continue wearing it in public, in complete ignorance. That’s the himbo promise.
With that mystery hanging over us, I’m tapping out. Please hit me back: replies, questions and requests are always welcome. Recommend me to your friends if that wouldn’t alienate them. Do not risk a friendship on my behalf. Unless you want to — that’s totally fine. Encouraged, even.
And the link to my tip line ($3 a month) is at the bottom of the email. Once I have enough money, I can start doing ice milks.
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Miles Klee
Miles Klee @milesklee

Internet nonsense and chill vibes.

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