baby greaser george

future of art/religion

i know, i know that i don’t live in new york anymore and i don’t get a vote or whatever, but doesn’t it explain everything that’s wrong with everything when the feature illustration for The City section article about The New Brooklyn(s) and how awesome Brooklyn is and how many writers live in Brooklyn and how much Brooklyn is working out great for everyone, the illustration for that article, is a picture of a woman standing in in redhook looking out at… manhattan. just saying is all.

i moved all my shit to andersonville; i have free laundry; there is something called non-GMO buttery spread that is also somehow vegan despite its buttery aspirations and is much, much worse for you that actual butter, as far as my bleary, somewhat tired eyes told me this morning while i managed toast production. my main blog-related goal for the next week is to make a full, living database of all the dumb shit in this apartment so that when the person involved googles me they will find a death’s-head staring back at them in the form of their own spending habits. like how serial killers in movies secretly make a pattern on a map or how Paul Auster and the other fake Paul Auster write out letters on the map when walking: my rudeness to people who indirectly treat me kindly is breaking into the eighth dimension and shit.

also, can i just say, this blog was about Grady Sizemore two goddamn years ago and now the national sports media decides he’s good at baseball. can i get a free chicken sandwich or something out of that.

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