Weather Wang
Internet round-up for the week of December 30, 2024
Happy Friday, friends!
Hope you all had a lovely New Year’s Eve/Day and first couple of days of 2025. My husband and I listened to Anderson and Andy count down to midnight while we stayed up until 2:30 AM on NYE in an attempt to finish Baldur’s Gate 3. We were unsuccessful — BUT I think we’ll be able to get through the rest of it this weekend (exciting)!
With the new year falling in the middle of the week, I’m late to sharing Jesse McLaren’s 3D-printed celebration glasses, so here they are:
I have to agree. We’ve hit the limit on these stupid things. It’s over, it’s done. I mean just look at this sorry attempt:
Like gang, what are we doing here? 20250? 20025? 20205? Happy New Zip Code, everyone!! It’s time to release the glasses into the ether until 2030, when the 3 is at least round enough for us to have a little fun again. Let’s just do hats or something until then. Or headbands. I promise, we’ll be fine.
Or I guess we can all agree we’re doing this instead:
Otherwise, I’ve had two workdays this week, and they’ve been mercifully slow. After two months of intense writing sprints, it’s really nice to have a little time to breathe. I’m still waiting for my brain to be fully functional again, but I think it’ll get there as things hit a more normalized pace.
Without further ado, let’s get in to the goods I’ve got for ya this week:
Predictability
Since Pinterest’s predictions for last year were, well, fairly unremarkable, I’ve decided to forgo perusing those this year in favor of making my own predictions.
A couple of weeks ago, I did a round-up for BuzzFeed of folks’ unhinged predictions for 2025, and at the suggestion of my editor, I included my own at the bottom. Here they are, in screenshot form:
Also at the suggestion of my editor, I removed what had been the final bullet point:
OceanGate-style disaster on space tourism flight
I suppose I can understand why it’s not great for BF to publish anything predicting a potential death (especially of someone rich), but it’s fair game here in the international waters of my own personal Substack. I demand more billionaire drama in 2025!
Also: I’d love to hear any of your personal predictions in the comments, please!
Weather FOREcast
Heads up to anyone living in the Central US — Accuweather wants us all to know there’s a very stiff wind incoming:
It’s winter, you know — the time of year when we get…covered in…white stuff. Snow, ice. You know. That kind of thing. And don’t worry, it’s not just the Central US getting the shaft. They’re predicting thunderstorms in the south, too.
Weather wang. Snow schlong. Prophetic phallus.
Okay, I’m done.
No I’m not.
Atmospheric anaconda. Divining dick. Meteorological member.
Okay now I’m done.
Billionaire boys
I was extremely excited to discover yesterday that a documentary featuring our favorite wet boy called Don’t Die: The Man Who Wants to Live Forever was released on Netflix, and you will not be surprised to learn that it immediately took its place at the top of my watchlist.
The NY Times called the documentary “too-chummy,” which honestly bodes extremely well for my personal enjoyment of the film. He’s weird enough on his own, without commentary. Also, I feel like it’d be impossible to make anything even lightly critical of Bryan Johnson with his permission/knowledge. Even though he spends thousands of dollars zapping himself in the crotch every day, he’s got plenty more laying around he could use to file a lawsuit.
PROSECUTOR: Defendant states that my client is not truly aging backwards. Here’s the proof…
*PROSECUTOR proceeds to whip out a log of BJ’s nighttime erections*
PROSECUTOR: Oh not that. One moment.
*PROSECUTOR pulls out additional images from BJ’s nude weight room photoshoot*
PROSECUTOR: One…moment…
*PROSECUTOR pulls out a giant bag of BJ’s *clean* plasma*
PROSECUTOR: Um…uh…
Sidenote: Who do we think chose this cover shot? The director? BJ himself??
Anyway — is anyone here a notary?
I make this statement on this 3rd day of January, 2025: I am of sound mind and body and freely choose with my own free will to spend 1 hr 28 minutes of my life watching this film.
Obviously I will be following up with a review of the movie. OBVIOUSLY.
Brands a-branding
Pop-Tarts as a company remains completely deranged, and I could not be happier about it. If you recall, last year they sponsored their first-ever bowl game, replete with important mascot lore such as: “It is a Pop-Tart’s dream to be eaten.” At the end of the game, they lowered the mascot into a giant toaster where he was “cooked” and then devoured by the winning team.
Well, this year, they outdid themselves, bringing not one but three different flavored Pop-Tarts to the game, where the MVP of the winning team would choose which flavor was toasted for their post-game feast. They set up a memorial for Frosted Strawberry outside the stadium…and lest we continue to mourn his loss, they brought him back from the dead:
Tiktok failed to load.Enable 3rd party cookies or use another browser
The person in charge of brand management for Pop-Tarts has my heart. I cannot cope with how fucking ridiculous this is. It’s everything I could’ve dreamed of. We need more insane mascots and brand lore in this country. It’s the LEAST we deserve.
Anyway, here’s a little compilation: the mascots got their own entrances, ran around and teased the refs, joined in the celebrations, and, well, got cooked:
The winner (I really could not care less what team won or who the MVP was — sorry to college football but I am an NFL girlie) selected Cinnamon Roll, who was transported to, as the Pop-Tarts Bowl account says, “Mouth Heaven.”
They dumped tiny Pop-Tarts all over the winning coach.
Also, they sent the Pop-Tarts to a local hospital to visit newborns.
Can you imagine?? You have been on this earth for barely a single day and you open your eyes to A GIANT CINNAMON ROLL POP-TART MASCOT WITH UNBLINKING EYES LEANING OVER YOUR BASSINET? I love it.
Somehow, in their second year, they’ve managed to completely outdo themselves. May the Pop-Tarts Bowl continue forever.
Randomly selected animal cutie
Tiktok failed to load.Enable 3rd party cookies or use another browser
HE IS SO TINY.
The consensus seems to be that this is a stoat, and I love him so much and I could also never have one for a pet because I would lose him in the bottom of my tote bag. But if anyone else wants to get one and invite me over to pet it, that’d be great.
That’s it from me this week! I’m off to mentally prepare myself before watching a full hour and a half of detailed information (a large portion of which I’m guessing I (and all TMI subscribers) already know) about a damp billionaire. Have a great weekend!
K
Oh my GOD I am absolutely going to watch the Bryan Johnson documentary, thank you for putting it on my radar!!
Cinnamon Roll Pop Tart visited my wife’s floor at the hospital (she’s a nurse manager). She said he was insane.
What a moment this is… me providing a first/second hand report about a TMI topic. This must be what the singularity feels like.