From now on this is no longer a blog of the creative non-fiction, essayistic persuasion; it is now the story of a city where everyone is secretly a witch but no one talks about it because theyre afraid that the rest of society will turn against them but then one plucky young lass has the courage to show the world how kind and wonderful they are but then right when it was starting to be OK it all goes wrong and a bunch of people end up dead. It's Young Adult Fiction and an allegory for AIDS in New York in the 80s.
Just kidding. This is a post about how New Yorkers really don't like to get wet.
New Yorkers are way too quick to whip out the umbrella and it makes it harder to get around than it needs to be. Don't even try to tell me that this has something to do with Hurricane Sandy because I noticed this last summer too. Put on a hat and grow a sack, New York. I am tired of being poked in the eye by your god-damned spindles.
In other news, I dropped my iphone into the subway tracks and then I cried in two different AT&T stores. I don't want to talk about it.
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