Ten Little Missions

Outside was a waste. Wet streets, gray sky, people who’d given up before the weekend even started. I had no idea if there was anything else out there. So I made a list of things to do—ten stupid things, just enough to keep from losing it indoors or getting lost out there.

Grab everyone and go to Prenzlauer Berg before they tear it down for good. Cuddle with the world’s biggest insect. Watch enough bad German TV to break yourself—not the quality stuff, the mind-rotting kind that leaves you blank and primitive.

Fly to Tokyo for the Pringles. I’m not joking. Bring me some back. Turn in the Pope for driving around Germany without a seatbelt; might as well share the punishment with people who won’t bore you. Watch Lana Del Rey’s new video the way she filmed it—hands exactly where they belong. You already know.

If you’re going to kill someone annoying this weekend, at least have your excuse ready: I’m not a murderer, I’m a ghost creator. Ada’s got bedtime stories that’ll destroy you. Grab wine and pills and rewatch Skins all the way through, live in your past for one night. (If you touch the American version I will come to your house and do something I’ll be sorry for.)

The weekend’s long. You just have to get through it.