Meanwhile two posts down we have a post about Mr. Garceti's city and its murder problem. This city is winter-worn and grumpy. Rainbows and unicorns and blow jobs are all facing high disapproval ratings. A thorough reading of the Quinnipiac polls (something the erudite Ms. Dowd is unlikely to do) would put light on this gloom and doom.
I sort of narrowed down my feed to city governance, so my (limited) followers and the people I follow tend to know the topic at hand. Also? Google.
On City Old
That's why I'm moving to ... oh, yeah. Everyplace sucks.
On Meet The Awl
What ever happened to the marijuana site? Wasn't there going to be a marijuana site? Did I dream that? I have a pitch for it in my drafts folder: Places to Walk Around While Stoned in New York.
On Meet The Awl
Who will reject my unwritten pitches?
No, it's a shrug of the shoulders that folks will go to a chain for a consistently mediocre experience where one waits in a queue for something that should be so very simple. Luckily there are other locations where coffee can be had. When I walk into my local coffeeshop/bakery, they start making my beverage when I walk through the door and greet me by name. (Luckily I'm very predictable.)
Seriously, why do people shop at multinational chains?
My bagel secret is to get them straight out of the oven (around 6 - 6:30 at my local shop). An everything (or sometimes salt) bagel straight out of the oven with (tofu) cream cheese with coffee: Heaven.
It's an old guy thing. You'll get here. I'll welcome you.
I was so proud of Sybil (my cat) when she learned to use the toilet. Training took about two months but it was totally worth it.
One Sunday morning she woke me up crying and crying. She'd run to the bathroom and then back to me a few times. Eventually (as I'm not one to get out of bed at the command of a cat) I followed her and just outside the bathroom door she laid a dookie on the floor. She had had it.
Now I still use one of the training trays and keep the litter in the toilet bowl. It makes for easy cleanup and can be moved to the bathtub when guests are over.
As for this idea? Because we're horrible, we'll never clean the box since we can't smell it. Weighted by fetid piss and shit, the box will somehow fall to the sidewalk and hit ... you're in Brooklyn? It will hit a stroller with precious twins Chip and Chandler. Their litigious mother will own everything that is now yours. Including The Awl which will become a mommy blog. The end.