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03 February 2006
Overheard in NYC I think "third floor guy" in the last quote is jonmc.
Guy: God, I love going to Galapagos. You always run into all the right people there. You know, all the people that you haven't seen since that last Yeah Yeah Yeahs show?
--L train
Hahahahahahahahahahaha. It's like 2001 all over again.
Guy: God, I love going to Galapagos. You always run into all the right people there. You know, all the people that you haven't seen since that last Yeah Yeah Yeahs show?
--L train
That's why I don't ride the L train and also why I no longer wear my Hamas suicide belt, too tempting.
Dude, say what you want about the L, but (a) that's only the back of the train (going into Brooklyn) and (b) it has way hotter people than any of your crappy trains. I mean, they get uglier when they open their mouths, but if you just turn your iPod up, it's good lookings.
it has way hotter people than any of your crappy trains.
yes, but does your train have blind Balkan accordionists and crackhead basketball coaches with missing fingers? huh?
it's good lookings.
That makes me think of this Flintstones episode where Fred & Barney get semi-shanghaied into this James Bond Dr. No parody involving this woman named Madame Yes. She keeps calling them 'you stooo-pit good-lookings.' in a Russian accent, so, whenever me and my buddy Rob the Cop would get into a drunken misadventure back in the day, pips would clutch her head and say 'you stoo-pit good-lookings."
If I cared about how hot people were on the train or found indie-tweeness particularly hot that would make a bigger deal. The L just makes me want to tragically cut short several promising electronic music careers in a blaze of C4 and roofing nails... Unread Derrida, rainbow scarves and nickels of shitty coke everywhere.
On other trains I am more interested in icepicking people behind the ear for pushing onto the car before I get off.
I won't front though Damela, I do find a certain amount of too much mascara and stripy leggings attactive on the L train girls, but most of those dudes carry a more than faint aura of stale underwear.
I should clarify that there are limits to the amount of patterned carments I can tolerate. the other day in the elevator at work, this chick from the Russian TV station downstairs had boots embalzoned to look like askew newspapers in french. I asked if people ever got dizzy trying to read her feet. She look at me as if I were a schizophrenic leper.
I hate adults as well. It's just there are a bunch of different reasons to hate them instead of just that they are younger, richer and better looking than me.
The V has a lot of bored people on it whenever I ride. Some of the women are pretty; some of the men are handsome.
I have a tuning fork that seems to pick up messages from outer space when I strike it.
My train has the bird guy who tweets and wears a lone eagle feather on his head and, oh yeah, there's this guy you can see at 2nd Ave who will beg change from you.
The other day he was standing by the stairs up, and a flood of passengers detrained (2nd Ave = last stop). He said:
"'Scuse me, can you spare some change?"
The flood of people thickened.
"Well, I'll just step back."
People walked by without looking.
"Y'all are so rich."
But the way he said each line, it was like he started it a little mad, like he was going to make a point -- exCUSE ME; well, I'LL JUST; Y'ALL are -- and then dwindled off into this hopeful little pity voice, like he was asking a question:
I have to ride the L sometimes, I catch it from the G when going up to the 7 or the E doesn't make sense. D_W, let's work out a schedule for my safety, mmmmkay, thanks!
Does that mean you sometimes transfer from the G to the 7 at 45th Rd/Court Square, safetyfork? Because if you do, you walk close enough to my apartment to hit my window with a thrown brick.
And how could you not love the Wino, dame? He's like good news on a bad day.
Oooo, this is me (no really, it's me):
Boss: Notice anything different about your blazer today?
Employee: No.
Boss: Well, I sewed it for you.
Employee: What? When?
Boss: Oh, a month or two ago, when you were out of the office for the day. You left it here, so I took it and sewed it.
Employee: Um, thanks.
I have since terminated my employment, despite the lure of well- (or at least thoroughly-) mended clothes.
Ha! This is me. Not really me, but it could be. Actually it could probably be pretty much any software engineer.
Software Engineer: We had free pizza today to celebrate sexual harassment or something like that. I didn't really pay attention. I just got the pizza.
The following is an ACTUAL TRUE email I received today at work. Probably only 3 or 4 people here will get it, but I thought it was truly insane and a sign that my manager is having a case of the Fridays.
Today’s “Pizza Talk” will be held in the training room. Coincidentally, pizza will be served.
The agenda for today is:
12:00 – 12:05 Captain J---- “Agile” W----: A Few More Slides from the “Agile 101” Deck
12:05 – 1:00 Wrestling Tournament with Methodology Super-Heroes –
Captain W---- vs. The ScrumMeister
General Waterfall vs. Prince-1
“RUP the Crusher” driving the PMBOK Mobile
Woman: Move in, motherfuckers, move in!
Yuppie guy: Wait for the next one, this is too packed.
Woman: Bitch, I have to be on this train!
Yuppie guy: This isn't the train to heaven, you know. It's, like, going to Queens.
Throw a brick up 45th Rd. next time you're around, safetyfork.
Here, jonmc, from the review of Zeno's Conscience:
A hilarious chronicle of a neurotic schemer whose desire to cure his various pathologies is exceeded only by his ability to rationalize them away...
he begins by recounting the history of his consuming passion for smoking and his attempts to free himself of the addiction. Zeno lights up cigarettes to see if he'll be disgusted (and therefore healthy again), searches for meaningful dates on which to kick the habit, and is almost perpetually certain that he has just smoked for the last time. But it's the quitting that exhilarates him. One's final cigarette, Zeno believes, "gains flavor from the feeling of victory over oneself and the hope of an imminent future of strength and health."
As World War I begins and old age approaches, Zeno finds a prescription for inner peace: "Sorrow and love -- life, in other words -- cannot be considered a sickness because they hurt."
I think the Greek Xeno's sometimes with an X, but now that I look on Google maybe not. What kinda root beer?