"When Giuseppe Coniglio saw Midnight Cowboy, he knew the life of a male hustler was for him."
"When Francis Coughlin saw Friday the 13th years ago, he knew he wanted to be a camp counselor."
"When Sergio Kletnoy, the executive assistant to the Cosmopolitan editor Joanna Coles, saw “The Devil Wears Prada” years ago, he knew this was the industry he wanted to work in."
True story: A friend and I once picked up a hitchhiker on Rt 6 on the cape while listening to this album and tripping on acid. The guy asked to be let out of the car after a mile or two.
Given that every mainstream cancer ward infuses dozens of people a day with platinum--with very limited success--drinking water that's been touched by silver ions doesn't strike me as all that wacky.
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.
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.
I just want to know why Klosterman is doling out ethical advice for pay. How did that happen?
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.
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.