my Spotify wrapped consisted of all very good songs, and I am not surprised not one bit

ok i'm a little surprised there are only two ABBA songs in the playlist, but we don't need to dwell on it there are other songs on the list to worry about i won't name names but jesus christ kerry

As we all know, the 2021 Spotify Wrapped was released this past week. And as we all know, there were many songs on our lists that we do not want to have to explain. But alas, there is no such thing as keeping shit to yourself, so I am going to let everyone know now that Justin Bieber did show up more than once in the playlist. I want to make this clear: he was not in my top five, but I also don’t need to explain my choices to you. We don’t need to discuss it; I just want things out in the open in this newsletter. Big Thief was my number one, though, and I just want to congratulate myself on being correct about that. Celebrate even small victories, folks. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, here’s what happened this week:

I will be putting no more context into this headline because I want us all to imagine why this could be happening. I’m thinking the schmear shortage is most likely because the cows are unionizing and want higher pay and more PTO and calfcare and they’re also probably moving out of the city and into the suburbs which is a totally different discussion that we’ll have at a later time — but yeah, I think those could be the main reasons. This is not good, everyone. 65 percent (there is no source for this) of the people who visit New York come exclusively to get a bagel from a guy behind the counter who acts like he didn’t want you buying a bagel from him in the first place. Because of this, we are going to lose tourists, New York. The cream cheese is gone, and the rats are bigger. My only suggestion is to just make everyone vegan. No? Okay, fine. We will circle back to this.

·························································································································································

In February of 2020, lil Joey B said that the immigration policies from Trump’s reign were inhumane and not cool. You’re right, Joe!

The other day, lil Joey B decided he would continue said inhumane immigration policies. We did it, Joe! We proved, yet again, that we’re not a better president just because our name isn’t Donald Trump! I love when people act like Trump made everything bad. As if Obama didn’t deport almost three million undocumented immigrants — which was almost one million more than Bush’s administration. And if I remember correctly, Biden was the Vice President at that time, right? I could be wrong. Title 42 was created with the idea that undocumented people could not come to the United States if they were from countries that had/have a contagious disease in it — Covid-19. Families have been suffering at the hands of this policy, and our country’s excuse for allowing this suffering is that it will protect us from the pandemic! It’s so smart, really! Now, we don’t have to worry about people not in the United States transmitting this deadly disease, and we can instead worry about 40.2% of Americans who still. are. not. vaccinated!!!!! I love our country’s priorities. Anyway, thanks for all of your hard work, Joe. We love your confidence.

·························································································································································

Remember back in the good ol days when you thought your waiter or barista was super cute, and the most respectful and chill thing you could do without feeling totally rejected or embarrassed was writing your number on the bill and then it was just a win/win because either the waiter or barista would call you or you would just never show your face in that restaurant or coffee shop again? And now it’s almost completely impossible to do that because the bills are all on iPads now, and so there’s nowhere to leave your number just in case someone cute wants to call it? Society doesn’t WANT you to give your number to the hot waiter. Society doesn’t want you living your best rom-com life. We can’t meet in a Christmas-themed bar and exchange numbers and then lose our phones (which means we can’t call each other!!!!) and then a month later we bump into each other reaching for the same copy of Bluets by Maggie Nelson at McNally Jackson and then we exchange numbers again but then I drop my phone in the East River for some reason and then three months later we both end up at an Easter-themed bar and finally fall in love! Society doesn’t want you to have this. This is what the left wants!!! I guess I could just walk into the Christmas-themed bar and verbally ask him for his number. But as a Gen-Z cusper, I am afraid of talking on the phone, so I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.

Also, this has nothing to do with me! This was just something I was thinking about. I most definitely did not get too nervous to speak to the waiter at the Christmas-themed bar that I went to last night with friends! He was not wearing a tiny beanie and did not have a little mustache that was working hard to become a real mustache but was still cute. I did not take a full hour to drink a hot toddy because it was too spicy, and I also didn’t take a full hour just so that the waiter would have to keep coming back to ask if I wanted another drink. None of this happened to me. Cannot relate to this section whatsoever.

·························································································································································

Not too much to discuss this week, but fear not! I have one more thing to address:

Rihanna is not pregnant. Also, I don’t have much more information about the cream cheese shortage at NYC bagel places because I did not read the New York Times article about it, but I will be sure to circle back to this when the time is right. You read the hashtag here first: #LetCowsUnionize

ps happy bday to Joan Didion that queen changes my life with every single book she friggin writes I love you write me back