You might be thinking, “what a lot of names for just one person.” But “Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs” is a fine stage name for the man born Orlando Tobias Edward Higginbottom, who recently dropped his first new music in four years. “Don’t You Forget About Me” (unaffiliated with Simple Minds) makes up for lost time with about six genres in one, all melding to form a satisfying arc progressing from quiet vocals through itchy synths toward funky bass and a roaring guitar solo. But again, he’s good at juggling big numbers of things. If you aspire to the same, get your new-week energy here.
In their latest wave of MacDonald’s baiting, Burger King has rolled out a line of “Unhappy Meals” for national mental health month, saying, “not everyone has to be happy all the time.” While that’s true, 1. Since when is bullying a mental health exercise, and 2. It seems like you can accomplish social good without making your product gross. The new “Real Meals” come with names like “Salty,” “Blue,” “DGAF,” and “Pissed,” none of which you’d associate with food that you wanted to sell or consume. But, regardless of label, they all contain the same regular whopper; the titles are just there so you can order according to how you feel. But, quick tip: you can also decide you “DGAF” without setting foot in Burger King. Just to keep your options open.
Red alert, we are in the midst of an IMPOSSIBLE BURGER SHORTAGE 🚨, and it’s all thanks to Burger King. Ever since Impossible inked the deals with BK and other major chains like Qdoba, they’re struggling to keep up with production, which means the independent restaurants who’ve been serving them for ages now can’t get their full supply. So, until Impossible figures out scale, we’re gonna have a lot of agitated vegan diners on our hands and, conveniently, a lot of vocal pining for Impossible. All feels very Oatly, doesn’t it.
Cow print is now a thing, according to The Cut, which has just put out a list of all the famous human bodies it has graced of late, in addition to where you can get your own. But, why cow? We’ll award 20% credit to Doja Cat; 10% to this whole country moment we’re having, and a solid 70% to methane farts. Moo.
