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☁️ Miles High Club ☁️ 🍆 Penis Girl 🍆

Miles Klee
Miles Klee
You can rest here, weary traveler. This is Miles High Club.

After a triumphant return to Los Angeles — as in, none of the houseplants died — I am already nostalgic for the best parts of Oregon. Dipping into a river every day. The unfathomably cheap, unbelievably potent weed. Feeling like one day I’ll have a pickup truck and three to five dogs. Etc.
Whatever! I’m back in Hollywood, over it all and ready to sell out at the first opportunity. Until then, MEL Magazine is up and running again: so far I’ve written on topics including the “shrigma male,” weird Spotify playlists, the death of business casual, scumbag Andrew Cuomo, small penis pride, lady dirtbags and the summer of peak hard seltzer. Please click one of those links so that our new owners think I am worth employing.
If you don’t, I’ll have to go full Leonard Cohen (as Miami Vice villain).
You get me? Good. Well, down to business.
Penis Girl
One more thing from the Oregon trip, and then I’ll quit mentioning it: visiting Portland, I ran across a truly spectacular piece of graffiti.
Wow! The message. The font. The confidence. I haven’t been this moved by art in a long, long time. But I soon learned it’s not a standalone piece. “Penis Girl” is the most beloved tagger of Portland’s pandemic year-and-a-half. Their signature is all over the city.
“I am just a person with a pen,” the nonbinary and gender nonconforming superhero told alt newspaper Willamette Week in July. “I’m not Banksy.”
Thank god for that. Bonus: they’re pissing off the worst people online.
Lynda Kay
@wweek What’s next WW? A fawning article on a talented shoplifter? We can be better than this.
Edwin
@wweek What's next? Are you going to run a article praising the work of an arsonist?
Jason
@wweek Yeah. Let’s promote more destruction of Portland. Just pathetic news
Stay mad, losers.
Man, I Feel Like a Mac Mukbang
Ever seen a mukbang? It’s a “food broadcast,” or a video where the host eats while interacting with their audience. I don’t watch them, because if I do, I’ll realize that other people can sometimes perceive me when I eat, and that is kind of a nightmare. Ideally, I would take my meals in a dark closet.
Anyway, my pal Tony dug up an amazing thumbnail from one of these broadcasts on YouTube, and it deserves a mention here.
Lots going on here.
Lots going on here.
I have minimal context for this, and I don’t care. I don’t even know what the relationship is. That’s almost an hour’s worth of footage (which, by the way, has been viewed 883,756 times since last August). I tried to watch the beginning, and the guy was talking about his hair extensions. Forget it.
Goddamn, though, would you look at that bowl of mac and cheese.
It's like looking directly at the sun.
It's like looking directly at the sun.
Seriously, how many boxes of Velveeta is that? I’m going to say four, conservatively. Yep, nothing like several pounds of pasta and processed cheese — washed down with a crystal goblet of tap water — when you’re listening to someone divulge their sexual history to the internet.
I skipped forward, and sadly, they did not consume the whole amount, though it was funny to see her complain that he barely touched his plate.
Questo Cuomo
As one of the pieces I linked above reiterates, New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo is a sexual harasser and gaslighting shithead. We’ve known this for a while; it’s just that the state attorney general’s office finally confirmed it. With any luck, he’ll be run out of politics and forced to live in a roach-infested studio apartment for the rest of his days.
For whatever reason, Cuomo attempted the weird defense of “I inappropriately touch everyone, it’s a cultural thing!” Seems that no one told him how back in March, when one woman after another was accusing him of misconduct, a single brave dissenter had already tried it.
“I feel involved,” lol, you’re literally not! This is why nobody has a problem with making fun of Italians online. You might be wondering if Irene stood by her man this week, and boy have I got wonderful news:
#Italians. Hashtag, Italians. And “spaghetti” in the username. I’m done. Bring back the good, normal, American politics — like when that war criminal ate raw corn on the cob.
Ah, the days before "cancel culture."
Ah, the days before "cancel culture."
I must say ciao, but quick announcement for any readers who have recently suffered a head injury: I will accept $3 a month, should you feel a surge of inexplicable generosity. Link is at the bottom. As always, dear readers, please reply with feedback, questions, insults, threats and slander.
Also, I neglected to put an inspiring animal in this issue, so here you go:
It's his pool now. Get out.
It's his pool now. Get out.
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Miles Klee
Miles Klee @milesklee

Internet nonsense and chill vibes.

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