On Remember Boston? No, Not The Band
New York is fantastic if you love paying $3,500 a month to step outside your home into the fetid stink of urine and fermenting garbage so you can go buy a fucking cupcake for thirty five bucks.
New York sucks. I've lived here for fifteen years and it sucks. I hate it. You're all deluding yourselves. The only redeeming quality it has is that it's possible to make a lot of money here without talent or much intelligence.
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On Local Millennial Doesn't Deserve to Live in New York City
I just want to know why Klosterman is doling out ethical advice for pay. How did that happen?
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On Cafe Grumpy v. Magnolia Bakery
I have had a crush on one barista at Grumpy since 2006, but the coffee there tastes like diapers. It feels good to write that truth.
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On Laurie Anderson Is 65
My brother and I used to listen to O Superman before bed in high school. Our mom is a psycho, so it was almost comically soothing, musically and lyrically.
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On Do Bicyclists Deserve Sympathy?
@Ghost Fart@twitter Paved roads were originally made for bikes. http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/bike-blog/2011/aug/15/cyclists-paved-way-for-roads
You're welcome fatty.
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On Your Bad Sleep Will Kill You With Cancer
It's correlative. People with sleep apnea are fat. Fat people get more cancer because god hates their lack of discipline.
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On David Byrne Is 60
In November 2000, this song played almost every day in my house.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p8kKsSGV6FU
It really works in almost any context.
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On "Pac-Man Fever," Thirty Years Later
I found this song more moving than most love songs of the decade.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k601sj0H-Lo
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On The 40-Year-Old Reversion
And this, and the garbage stink, and the urine stink, and the 22 year-olds who've never read anything longer than a tweet, and the show Girls stealing all the parking in my neighborhood and the FUCKING CUPCAKE PLAGUE THAT NEVER ENDS and the BO stink on the subway and the ass stink in the cabs are all among the reasons why I am moving to the suburbs.
I'm moving to the suburbs. That's fucking right. I'm not moving to Portland, or Los Angeles or Berkerly or Cambridge. I'm not moving to an organic alpaca ranch in the Texas hill country. I'm moving to the suburbs, exactly where I said I'd never move. I will have a lawn and flowers and a big TV and a four bedroom house and I won't give a fuck about anything other than me and my wife and my kids.