Mats Holberg 🇺🇦 🇵🇸
Hollywood liberal, Bollinger bolshevik, choose your favorite pejorative. Turn-ons include film/TV, music, civil rights, architecture, cars, travel, food, gin martinis. Turn-offs include broccoli, bigots and spectacularly awful people like some billionaires who come to mind. He/Him.
Avatar: Selfie of middle-aged white guy with salt-and-pepper hair and beard, and tortoiseshell sunglasses in an arcaded pathway at Bellagio.
Header: Signage for a store called Serge's Wigs in Las Vegas.
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I mean, doesn’t it look like Target but make it $2000 per piece?
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I understand the impulse to use an old headshot you really like.
But I just encountered someone I’d only seen in a headshot she uses everywhere—and it was everything I could do to disguise my sorta cognitive dissonance as she introduced herself and I tried to suppress the ‘Really?’ I was feeling.
Anyway. Do I think I looked better 20 years ago? Of course! But I’d rather sacrifice my vanity in a current headshot than know people are processing [pick an unflattering reaction] when they meet me.
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I mean, these people probably can't even afford to drive that Ford. Which probably only tops 10 mpg when coasting downhill.
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Image selection for these ads is always so kooky.
Retired people living in a ramshackle bungalow and driving a beat-up 1972 Ford wagon probably don’t have one thing to cut—let alone twelve.
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When someone—in this case my brother—knows you’re one of the only people who’ll get a reference.
(‘Casino’ here doesn’t mean gambling—it was an anachronistic New England-y use of the word for a clubhouse in a summer colony. This is the one he means, long before we knew it, before it was surrounded by tall trees and clad with dark, weathered shingles. The scent? Old, wood, and slightly salt-air musty.)
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I hate Donald J Trump with the passion of a thousand burning suns. But if it served my interests, I could make him believe I was a trusted ally in five minutes flat.
So could you. So could anyone. That simpleton is that easy to play.
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Always sort of terrifying when you know our dummy of a president—with his ship-of-fools staff—is in the process of getting deftly outmaneuvered by the Chinese state while believing he’s the [pick any superlative, they all apply in his mind] putting them in their place.
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The most random memory of waiting in an interminable Storybook line at Disneyland behind a guy wearing a t-shirt with a Bored Ape image on it.
We assumed he was showing off his own NFT, which was funny—needing analogue to brag about digital.
(I just looked up current values—he’s probably not still bragging about it haha.)
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Things are getting so much worse and so steadily that Reagan’s famous line can be used against Trump with any timeframe:
Are you better off than you were a year ago? A month ago? A day ago? A minute ago?