After meeting a girl on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum, we made our way to Central Park’s Great Lawn, endangered by flying baseballs, runaway babies and business men openly stripping down to boxers. Over Merlot concealed in a cranberry juice bottle, I learned the MET is built on top of an old aqueduct, which . . . → Read More: MET Remixed
Tourist 1: *sniffs* Smells like farts.Tourist 2: What?Tourist 1: Smells like home.Tourist 2: *sniffs* Yeah.
NYU Kid 1: You Gotta Fight!NYU Kid 2: For Your Right!NYU Kid 3: To-Guy with Dreads: SHUT THE FUCK UP!NYU Kid 3: *quietly* okay… . . . → Read More: Overheard in Pomp-ville
People. Out there. In the World. Who go to restaurants. Or salad bars. And order food: Stop saying bueno.
And gracias for that matter.
You were raised in Connecticut. You sound ridiculous.
Here’s what I mean: While ordering my salad from one of those Choose-a-Topping places yesterday, the kind where a bunch of Mexicans toss . . . → Read More: No Bueno