The Grittification of Professional Sportspuck, And Other Ways to Save the World.

Mes puces, happiest of Tuesdays. I hope you have a piping hot cup of the beverage of your choice in front of you, and that you’ve properly girded your loins for the onslaught of holiday cheer which was released upon us the moment that last bite of pie entered your mouth. Praise Cthulhu, we’re in full Starbucks Holiday Beverage days. And may it be known: Chestnut Praline Lattes or GTFO.

So here’s some stuff for ya.

As Melania Trump haunts the halls of the freshly-decorated Shining nightmare that is the White House right now, Justin Trudeau and other Canadian Prime Ministers before him can’t live in the official residence—and home baby Justin lived in as a kid!—because it is crumbling and being retaken by the Canadian tundra and no PM wants to be the one to commit the tens of millions of dollars needed to restore the damned place. Again, to compare:

(Image collage by @highlandista)

This might be a bit too inside baseball if you don’t work in media, but Quartz went and “translated GM’s “staffing transformation” press release into plain English,” for us. Now THAT is service journalism.

This is, full stop, the most on-the-nose example of the absurdity of 2018 and therefore my favorite headline of the year: Drop The Batteries—Diamonds And Lasers Could Power Your Drone.

And finally, if you don’t read this tweetstorm about how, in the age of our lord and savior Gritty, other NHL hockey teams can appeal to millennials, I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOU. And I thought we were friends! *Sob*

Vive le Gritty! And be kind to each other. But mostly Gritty.

Xoxo Amy