Strange things about NYC blizzards:
- I get an emergency weather warning for what seems like a normal, ACTUAL, day of winter.
- My neighbors look like they’ve never EVER shoveled snow before. They keep poking at it with helpless faces.
- NYC fresh powdered snow tastes like the engine of a car.
- Entire institutions are shut down today because apparently walking through snow is like walking through fire.
- Where do all the rats and pigeons go?
- There’s not a person in sight on my block and the only sound I can hear is the creepy wind chime next door.
- I’m not feeling too good after having licked that snowball.
- I think I got Hep C from it.
- Damn it, I did.
On Christmas Eve my Latino-Jewish family and I had rented two romantic comedies, poured some champagne, sat down on the couch and were about to throw in a movie when I thought of a fantastic idea.
“Why don’t we sing some Christmas songs?” I said to my family.
“Sure!” said my mom. We sat there in silence for a moment trying to think of any Christmas songs we knew.
‘Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer’ popped into my head so I started to sing it.
Everyone joined in but then something shameful happened. When it came time to sing “red-nosed reindeer” I heard my mom say “ red-nosed rainbow” softly in her Colombian accent.
“What did you say?” I said with a horrified look on my face. “It’s Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer and how can a rainbow have a red nose? Where did you come up with this?”
My mom had no idea what she had said wrong but I knew Jesus was looking down on us. We started the movie and never spoke of it again.
Why the hell haven’t humans figured out a way to hibernate like bears? I can eat 40 pounds of berries a day!
They can go 100 days without exercising? Big deal. That’s my life.
You think bears can sleep longer than I can? You’ve obviously never seen me sleep.
So, a female bear can give birth mid-nap and immediately fall back asleep. Whatever. I wake up and fall asleep during sex all the time! Even hamsters and chipmunks get to hibernate! Those tiny little garbage pieces of fur get to skip out on winter while I’m freezing my ass off and getting my face torn off by the wind! I have to sit in front of a godddamn SADD light everyday to recreate the sun for myself. Bears don’t even have to get up to shit during hibernation because something forms inside of them called a fecal plug. Well, you know what, Mother Nature? I deserve a fecal plug just like any other animal. Just give me chance! Get me some berries and a fecal plug and I’ll show you what’s possible.
Even if you are constipated, don’t start hibernating yet, or you’ll miss Political Subveristies live at Ars Nova on Dec 12th and 13th!
Just as Sandy was coming to an end and I was finally walking out of my apartment for the first time in 10 days, I was told there’s another storm coming to NY. Are you kidding?
I’m not quite sure what that means for this city but I know what it means for me.
- My legs getting re-atrophied in bed.
- Watching Inception for the seventh time.
- Becoming so pale and greasy, I could be confused for Gollum.
- Going over everything in my emergency supply bag obsessively, just in case something vanished.
- Clipping my toenails and then giving them names.
- Playing sad songs on my keyboard in the darkness and crying.
- Getting so bored that I play a game where I have to fart in every part of my studio apartment.
- Eating endless amounts of Cheezits and Triscuits.
- Lighting candles because the bulbs are flickering only to find the curtains on fire when I get out of the shower.
- Questioning whether I would know how to interact with another human again.
Please, Nor’easter, don’t do this. I can’t live this way.
My friend told me she saw a man run into the streets with a giant net, catch a bunch of pigeons, laugh maniacally, and take them into a van with him. After the story, she waited to see a look of shock on my face but all I said was, “Good for him. He got himself some dinner.” All the color left her face. “I called 411 to report him. How can you say that?” she said.
Ok, here’s what I have to say to that:
NYC has recently been awarded the honor of being Top Dirtiest City in the US.
This is due to:
- Rats that look like cats chillin on every corner of this damn city.
- Chicken bones lining the streets like décor.
- Our fantastic trash system where people leave fart infested furniture outside their door.
- Prostitutes in front of every deli in Manhattan.
- And YES……PIGEONS.
If we help get rid of one of these things and give a guy some free dinner in the process then we’re making progress. Am I right? Oh, come on. Don’t at me like that.
I have no hair left. I’ve ripped every single one out of my head and I’m on the verge of a mental breakdown. I haven’t eaten in days and my eyes are almost swollen shut.
BUT I CAN’T SEEM TO STOP WATCHING OLYMPIC GYMNASTICS!!!!!
How do they do it? They spend their entire lives training, watch their bodies become wide, stubby muscular structures and sometimes don’t even make it!
And you know what kills me?! When their tiny little 14-16 year old selves have a mediocre routine and you can see them tearing up, trying to keep it together as they walk up to their disappointed coaches. I cry every time.
But then I get SO mad. It makes me want to go up to their coaches and say “ HEY! DUDE! COULD YOU GIVE HER A BREAK? SHE PROBABLY WANTS TO BE A NORMAL PERSON WHO CAN EAT A BURGER AND WATCH A MOVIE WITH HER FRIENDS BUT INSTEAD SHE HAS TO DO THINGS LIKE BACKHAND SPRINGS ON A BEAM! CAN YOU DO THAT? NOOOO!!!!!”.
Oh my God, Gabby Douglas is on T.V. I gotta go.
Guys, I have something very serious to confess……….
I’ve never eaten a real tomato before. UNTIL NOW. I’ve been working on my sister’s vegetable farm in Oregon and one afternoon I got curious enough to eat one fresh off the plant. My tastebuds experienced a kind of deliciousness they had been deprived of for far too long. And so I came to a shocking conclusion.
There are tomato imposters all over this country, many of which I’ve been putting in my mouth! They give the illusion of being ripe, red, and juicy but are in fact unripe plastic versions of their former selves! The question is, why are all these tomatoes pretending to be real? Because they’ve been paid a lot of money by big agricultural businesses like Monsanto and Dupont to keep quiet! They want us to forget what real food tastes like so they can keep making money off their plastic food.
As soon as I learned the news I went to the local Fred Meijer and confronted all the tomato imposters there. I could smell the guilt. I picked one of the baby tomatoes up and told them if they didn’t turn themselves in then I would finish her. But then I was rudely interrupted by a Fred Meijer employee asking me if I was ok. Ok? Strange.I immediately put it all together. Of course they’re gonna make me look crazy when they don’t want anyone to find out where the vegetable imposters are. I’m watching you, fake tomatoes. I know where you live.
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If you didn’t think there were enough reasons not to vote for Romney here’s yet another: HIS WIFE SPENDS AN UNECESSARY AMOUNT OF MONEY ON HORSES. What is this spending for, you ask? To keep up her passion for dressage. Dressage is what someone people call “horse ballet” or as I like to call it “people making horses do things they NEVER wanted to do.”
Ann says, “ I’d sit on a horse and forget I was even sick.” First of all, how is that? Second of all, why is it that when I sit on horses I cry and hope it doesn’t Christopher Reeve me? That’s not fair.
She also claims not to be wealthy which I agree with because who doesn’t go on horse-buying expeditions to Europe spending $100,000 on a single horse? I imagine other things she might have: a room dedicated to thousands of crystal horse figurines, a 500 thread count horse sheet set, hoof-shaped diamond encrusted coasters for dinner parties. Ann, it’s time to start new hobbies. Maybe something that will make you more relatable to the average woman? Just a thought.
Ok, so according to an independent study, 40% of calls that are made to the police in NYC are butt dials. Can you believe that? BUTT DIALS. ASS DIALS. I’m asking everyone in New York, right now, to take their phone out of their ass and put it somewhere else. Anywhere. What are you even doing putting anything in your back pocket? Don’t we all know that it’s the quickest way to get pick pocketed? You’re asking to get robbed!
Well, since we keep putting our phones in our butts I’ve taken it upon myself to give us some options:
1. Keep your phone at home. What could be easier than that?
2. Stop sitting. Give someone your seat on the subway! You’ll feel like a good citizen instead of a lazy motherfucker.
3. Hold your phone high up over your head at all times, giving it no chance of touching your ass. You’ll have arms of steel. I promise.
4. Lose that goddamn weight. Then, even if you sit on your phone your fat won’t be pressing into it, causing, yet, another butt dial.
5. Move out of the city! If you think you’re gonna butt dial save us the work and just get out. You’re delaying critical time where we could be saving the lives of New Yorkers.
Ass dialing from a criminal is another story. It can be a quick way to catch your ass, no pun intended. So, if you’d like to rob, rape, or just plain kill a baby then please, by all means, dial away with that beautiful ass of yours. It’ll be a great help to us.