The “Weakday Roundup” isn’t just a rundown of what’s trending, it’s clifnotes for what matters to you, as decided by us. We give you:
- Just-the-tip. Just enough so you’re in the know.
- Why it matters. Partly validation, always knowledge.
- ‘Not-so-hot take.’ Our attempt to shake up the internet.
- The water cooler angle. What you need to know to be a Managing Director among mere Analysts.
- TL;DR. ‘Too long, don’t read’ will be a recurring series dedicated to extra scraps of content that didn’t make “feature” status.
Terrorist Attack in Brussels. IS claimed to be behind yet another terrorist attack today that killed 34 people and injured 181. Why it matters: IS continues to get stronger, refugees will likely find more doors closed and presidential candidates will try to politicize the death of innocent people. #fuckterrorism
Rob For died. If Chris Farley and Chris Christie had a baby, it would be Rob Ford. I think I speak for all bloggers when I say we’re going to miss that big lovable caricature who downplayed his crack addiction on live TV with the old adage “nobodies perfect” and looked like he got a hold of some disco biscuits when dancing on the chamber floor. Why it matters: Cancer sucks and Rob had at least a few years of reckless reveling left in him. #fuckcancer
In light of all the sad news today, I offer up this TL;DR.
Flo Rida’s “My House”: The Song of a Generation?
Much to my chagrin, living with a 20-something female is conducive to being well-versed in Top 40 music among other things (read: Bravo television programming, Zara’s Spring 2016 line and always knowing who Taylor Swift is dating.) My newest guilty pleasure (sorry, Selena Gomez’s ‘Same Old Love’) is Flo Rida’s ‘My House.’ The points it lost for being the overplayed anthem chosen by CBS for the first weekend of March Madness, it makes up for in undoubtedly resonating with an entire socioeconomic demographic.
A song that makes it cool to stay in just might be the song of the “Netflix and Chill” generation. A close second being “House Party” by Sam Hunt, of course. Flo Rida either employs a team of psycho analysts or is the Michelangelo of our generation. Move over Kanye. He has his finger on the pulse of his fans who are mostly Rose drinking, white, tweenage girls who would prefer to work on their Instagram modeling career, stalk their exes on Facebook and count down the days until ‘Gilmore Girls’ comes back than earn their father’s disapproval by wearing a crop top to the bar and making a bad decision with a reader of this blog. He was able to identify and exploit a trend of people wanting to sit alone with premium cable rather than interact in a social setting with real people, to the tun of 50 million views. Did I mention it’s catchy as fuck?
Point, Flo Rida.