Things have been pretty dark around here lately.  So while there are all sorts of depressing updates about Weinstein, the Napa fire, North Korea, and Him, I refuse to acknowledge them today. Your weekend Mixtape is nothing but good. 

First and foremost, I think it’s possible I will laugh about this tweet for at least a couple more weeks:

Bonus content was this reply: “That’s his grooming imp. She’s been with him since Overboard.”

Someone who probably has an entire fleet of grooming imps is Oprah, who revealed recently that she hasn’t been to a bank since 1988. The brilliant R. Eric Thomas, who writes for Elle, watched the Ellen segment in which Oprah revealed this and could not contain his glee.

“Oprah is having a banner year for “norming;” last month she had to get an ID to work at CBS for 60 Minutes as if she couldn’t just point to her own face on the side of the building every time she passed security. Which building? Any building. She’s Oprah. Her face is on all the buildings.”

Keeping the theme of delightful anecdotes going, try getting through this Tom Hanks interview without wanting to drive to LA and make him be your dad. Just try!

“The money can be good. But after that, man, you just want more money. There’s always another level of mammon that you require in order to keep yourself happy. Are you in it for power? To do what? To have a parking place right next to your trailer? If those are the talismans, after a while none of it’s going to be enough.”

SIGH. What a dreamboat.

Apologies for throwing another Guardian article at you (they’re not paying me, I swear. But they could! Hey Guardian! Call me!), but I found another delightful anecdote in it recently. It seems that Larry David’s fantastic show Curb Your Enthusiasm actually saved a man from death row. I don’t want to ruin the twist for you, so I’ll just share this:

“Catalan had an alibi. When Puebla was murdered, he claimed he was at Dodger Stadium, watching the home team get defeated by the Atlanta Braves.”

You may have heard that Austin’s beloved and world-renowned Franklin Barbecue caught fire as the remnants of Hurricane Harvey (that name really should be retired from society now) blew through town. Buried in the text and pictures of the fire was this little gem:

“The 9-1-1 call came in at 5:27 a.m., according to the official fire report from the Austin Fire Department. The first truck arrived on scene a minute later. One person was in line for barbecue.”

This last item is not necessarily delightful – it’s a bit wrenching actually – but is a beautiful way to spend 12 minutes of your Sunday. I love the last exchange of conversation. Bless you, ma’am. We’re so glad you jumped.


Enters the room by kicking the door down. Obnoxious Austinite. Conflicted Texan. Writer. Procuress. Sot.