People who are reading my “NY Stereotypes” post seriously need to chill out. Talk about overreacting. Clearly I’m not a “real New Yorker,” because I wouldn’t be so dramatic over a post meant in FUN. Actually, some readers’ comments proved one of my points…thanks!
Moving on. “Take a ride on the Ate Train” ??? Seriously Snickers…lame. Thanks for taking up entire subway cars with your hysterical (insert sarcasm here) ads.
I’m on twitter now - charmer128. I dig that you only have 140 spaces to type…I always think of things I want to blog but don’t want to make a full post out of it.
Like, today on the train, I almost didn’t make it off because I was standing in the middle of the car and people were crowding on before I could get out the door. I think there should be an electronic “fence” between the doors where people get shocked if people are still trying to get off. Don’t ask me how it would work - I just think people would finally get the point why the conductor yells, “LET THEM OFF FIRST, LET THEM OFF FIRST.”
U2 just dropped their new album. Bloomberg gave them a street - a block of West 53rd called “U2 Way.” Probably the best thing he’s done in the last year. Not enough to be worth another year, though. I <3 Bono.
I read that Gov Patterson has the lowest Gov rating in NY history. That means it’s lower than when Spitzer was discovered hooking up with some “high end” prostitute. That must suck - you’re blind AND you’re the worst Gov in NY history.
I jump on the uptown 6 the other night on my way home from work. I only take it up one stop to Grand Central…if I’m feeling adventurous, I’ll walk the 10 blocks. Tonight, my feet hurt. I knew it was gonna be rough when I get underground and see 85,000 waiting for a train. Sure enough, I wait 3 trains before I can squish into one. Things are going splendidly; I’m getting to know everyone around me very well as their bodies are crushing up against me. The man behind me has his back glued to mine - I can actually feel his butt and legs molded to mine. Gross. Then, I smell it. It wafts around me and I wrinkle my nose as I look around as if to say, “Hey, it wasn’t me.” People do seem to be looking at me, though, and then I realize that the man molded to me just farted on me! His butt was literally touching me - and he farted on me!
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