copywriting. jumbo style.
There’s a word I’m sick of. Not awesomesauce or amazeballs. Both of those sound swampy and musky and wet or hairy, respectively, but they’ve become so common they’ve worn me down. Not woke, though I do hate that one and I promise you, I WILL NOT CAVE and use it. (Though I do think “Woke-ish” should be a… keep reading…
There’s a new word I’m sick of. Not awesomesauce or amazeballs. Both of those sound swampy and musky and wet or hairy, respectively, but they’ve become so common they’ve worn me down. Like skinny jeans did in 2007, and bellbottoms will once again this year. Yeah, you think you won’t go back to a flare jean, but you… keep reading…
I stood on the high diving board, looking down. Nope, nope, nope. I was 10 years old, at the pool at Twin Lakes Tennis & Swim Club. That’s where my family went on hot days from our weekend house in Stamford, Ct. The usual suburban club: Moms with deeply freckled chests. Tennis whites. Cheeseburgers, defrosted crinkle-cut fries, ketchup… keep reading…
