Category Archives: Honor!

Facebook: A Deal with the Debil

You guys, Facebook is totally evil just like that little scoundrel Damien, from the Omen, except that instead of being branded with the mark of the beast under its cute seven-year-old bowl cut, Facebook bears the hideous marks of all of its advertisers.

I learned about it the hard way. By getting a surprise motherfucking news bulletin about myself posted in everyone’s goddamn mini-feed! Do I need my smart friends who I lie to about what movies I see to know that I just Fandango’d two tickets to Role Models for tonight? No. Do I need some people I already told I would see it with and then totes didn’t invite to know that? No. So um…how come Fandango told Facebook to tell everyone about it. AND HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE!?????????????????

I did some research on psychic and determined that FACEBOOK IS!

I did some in-depth research on psychics and determined that FACEBOOK IS! ...it all fits....

And now, because I am the nicest blogger ever (except for those other more widely read and other regular people bloggarts who already covered this story in a far more cohesive, informative way) I am going to share this info with you so you can avoid what happened to me, so you won’t shake with rage and be forced to blog about it even though you hardly EVER blog about anything (I miss y’all too! Whatcha been up to? Leave a girl a comment what whaaaaat!).

Anyways! Have you ever noticed that if you happen to be thinking that maybe you would like to be engaged to your boyfriend or whatever, that sometimes a little annoying ad for engagement rings appears to the right of your stupid Facebook profile? Well, there’s a reason! You see, Facebook and its ad partners are watching you right now with their paid psychic mind-readers (see above illustration). They can see what you’re wearing and hear your private thoughts and they are feeding all of that info through super-computers located underground in the Facebook lair in Palo Alto, CA and turning it into statistics that it sends to GameFly and ebay and the Knot among others (full list of participants in FB “social ads).

How it works:

Facebook has access to hundreds of these magnificent super computers!

Facebook has access to hundreds of these magnificent super computers!

Remember: New Facebook is smarter than you think. Mark Zuckerberg is from the future. FB is very high-tech.

(*** Please not that the above image of the Starship Enterprise is meant to illustrate Facebooks high-techiness, but not neccessarily its from the futureiness because remember that episode where Captain Picard realized that they were probably stuck in a worm hole and might be repeating each moment over and over again for millions of years without even realizing? We dont know that Star Trek is from the future. It might exist in the past, present, and future all at once. Impossible to tell. Space!)

(*** Please not that the above image of the Starship Enterprise is meant to illustrate Facebook's "high-tech"iness, but not neccessarily its "from the future"iness because remember that episode where Captain Picard realized that they were probably stuck in a worm hole and might be repeating each moment over and over again for millions of years without even realizing? We don't know that Star Trek is from the future. It might exist in the past, present, and future all at once. Impossible to tell. Space!)

The only way to stop FB from making all of your private internet business public knowledge is to change your privacy settings. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD CHANGE THEM.

Vanquish the hideous blood-sucking Facebook by throwing its ring of power into the lava and outrunning that giant boulder and returning to Tatooine to live out your days free from Big Brother’s oppressive 1984  grasp!!!!!!!!!!

You can do it! Vanquish them!

I was shocked to find that the first page of images for the word VANQUISH was pictures of this dumb car. I was hoping for a viking or something. The internet has gone to seed. Officially. When this car is our collective top image of vanquish

I was shocked to find that the first page of images for the word VANQUISH was pictures of this dumb car. I was hoping for a viking or something. The internet has gone to seed. Officially. When this car is our collective top image of "vanquish"

HERE’S SOME ADVICE: You should check to make sure that there isn’t a Facebook logo on basically anything you touch, for example your toilet. If there is one, it means that Facebook has a fucking ad deal with your toilet and it can advertise in your profile on behalf of your toilet to raise your toilet’s profile and hence, generate revenue for your toilet. If you don’t check, then don’t blame me when:

SO AND SO IS reading Teen People and peeing”

appears on your profile. I’m just trying to save your whole entire life and reputation. No big deal.

BUT DON’T WORRY THEY ARE ONLY DOING IT TO ENRICH YOUR SOCIAL LIFE AND MAKE ADS MORE INTERESTING!

From the News Feed/Wall Section of the Privacy Settings Page: “Facebook occasionally pairs advertisements with relevant social actions from a user’s friends to create Social Ads. Social Ads make advertisements more interesting and more tailored to you and your friends. These respect all privacy rules. You may opt out of appearing in your friends’ Social Ads below.”

My friends and I feel so special that you target us with weight-loss, chocolate, wedding portrait photographer, and celeb news publication ads! Thanks Facebook! NOT! IT MAKES US FEEL PATHETIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AKK! I love cats!

AKK! I love cats!

An ironic part is that the ad program Facebook runs to integrate ads into your profile based on internet activity un-related to Facebook is called Beacon. As in, it’s a Beacon of privacy-infringement in an already over-sharing world. (Speaking of over-sharing check out my tumblr!!!!)

In conclusion: Remember if you have a Facebook account it is not smart to register on any porn sites even under a fake name y’all, or else your aquaintences might get a mini-feed that says

So and so is enjoying himself! He’s just purchased a download of the Naylin’ Paylin video.”

Game over for getting that new job!

And now I must go, I have to link this hilarious blarg entry to all of my social networking profiles so everyone will know about and like me!

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Filed under celebrity, general complaints, Honor!, ladies, real life, world wide whaaaaat

Close Encounters of the Ill-Mannered, Possibly Retarded Kind

One of the many charming, intriguing mysteries surrounding Smackdown HQ (our apartment, on Monitor Street) is the nature of/name of/ mental state of our “landlord,” a strange, impolite personage who landed on my radar last night, unfortunately.

The whole affair surrounding him/her is very strange. For starters, our rent check is made out to a woman who we’ve never met or seen, and we are required to slide it under the door of creepy, behind-the-stairs-apartment 1R every month. It’s all very Wizard of Oz. The woman doesn’t even live there. She must be some kind of puppet-master calling the shots from a nice building.

inside 1R

the real landlord?

A dude named R**** (and in case he knows how to use Google, I’ll be blocking out his name in most instances) does live in the building, maybe. And, he might have a duel identity. But that’s only the tip of the iceberg.

Here are the facts of the case DUN DUN:

1. We used to call R RonnyBobby, because we’re pretty sure he’s introduced himself as both-on separate occasions.

2. R may have a brother named Bobby, with whom he shares a voice mailbox- or maybe he is really both. He has referred to Bobby as both his “buddy” and his “bro,” which tells us approximately nothing. Zach claims to have met “Bobby,” and says that he is identical to R.

Unsettling, no?

Unsettling, no?

3. R doesn’t have a last name? Or maybe is the son of our real landlord?

4. R lives in 1R? But usually sits out in front of the building in his car for some reason, emerging only to lecture building dwellers on the proper way to recycle? He told Zach he lives there sometimes….

5. R does not appreciate or actually, seem to notice sarcasm. He never laughs or smiles. He curses a lot and says “Ya know wha’m sayin?” after like EVERY sentence. This + the Bobby mystery leads us to believe he may be mentally retarded, or at least generally retahded.

Okay, so whatever. He’s your average middle-aged, cantankerous, Brooklyn landlord. NBD, right? WELL THAT WAS UNTIL I GOT ATTACKED. Yesterday, while we were at work, working full-time office jobs like real people, R was apparently inspecting our apartment, possibly with his side-kick/bro Bobby, with no prior warning.

He was appalled to discover that our window AC unit was left on low throughout the day, that we had 10ish empty cereal/little frozen pizza boxes ready to be recycled and also like 15 or so bottles/cans. This recycling pile was not even big enough to be on the floor. Everything was arranged by size and type on top of the recycling bin lid. Man, we are SUCH aNiMaLs.

The thing that kills me is that between my occasional OCD and Zach’s propensity for general tidiness, we generally have a pretty orderly lifestyle. I’m more Phoebe than Monica, it’s true. But Monica is in there , goddamn it. I scrub floors, I dust everything! And always have a back-up canister of Clorox wipes under the sink! There were no dishes in the sink, no food left out, etc. Just strange art supplies and books strewn gracefully, WHIMSICALLY, throughout the space.

But as Zach put it: we have a right to our clutter. We also have a right to reasonable warning before being descended upon. If this were a real blog like curbed or gothamist I would have a scan of that stipulation in our lease inserted below. But this isn’t that kind of operation. Weeeee!

PS- type Air Conditioning Unit Fire Hazard into Google. Unless it is also a HEATING unit, which makes sense as a producer of FIRE….it’s job is to COOL things. Also it is full of WATER.

(Thank you to Z for calming me down off of the “we’re going to burn alive in this air conditioned death trap one night” ledge using Google last night, so I could go to sleep.)

It’s true, we had one pet “roach” … I prefer the term “palmetto bug.” But um, HELLO, it came from the depths of hell, and no matter how deeply I clean, that’s a little out of my jurisdiction.

I really don’t like the thought of our possibly twin’d, definitely unstable land person minion or whatever just wandering around our apartment whilst we are away. Did he bring his 25-year-old Asian girlfriend with him? Did they make fun of our pathetic DVD collections, rifle through our books and records, watch some HBO, and sample all of the different kinds of cereal we have? Did they test our beds to see if they are just right? It’s hard to say.

Bear Tennants Outraged at Goldilocks Abuse of Master Key

"Bear Tenants Outraged at Goldilocks' Abuse of Master Key"

WE MAY NEVER KNOW.

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Filed under brooklyn, general complaints, Honor!, real life

How To Be A Beloved Contemporary American Writer!

I’ve deliberated long and hard and finally decided that actually, most of the formula for being a super-successful published essayist is to have a few stories to tell about various shit that happened to you in your life, and to be able to prove that you are qUiRkY! Congratulations FUCKING EVERYBODY. Time for us to call up our literary agents.

[nymag.com]
I made mix-tapes as a teen and have a cursory knowledge of history too Sarah Vowell, b.f.d.!

[photo: Getty Images via nymag.com]

Writing a book used to mean something. “I AM GOING TO WRITE A BOOK!!” used to be met with gasps and applause, and the endeavor itself used to command respect. But now, all you have to do is live long enough to have at least 10 wAcKy AnEcDoTeS to tell and be able to get to a Borders to read that dumb NaNoWriMo guy’s book.

How to write a book without the only thing that makes a book!

"How to write a book without the only thing that makes a book!"

In one short month, you will have your very own book of essays that other people can buy and chuckle at and be like

“OMG that is SO something that happens to people!” or

“NUH UH I had a problem relating to my parents/boss/French people one time too! LOL!”

Has anyone else read Sarah Vowell’s book “Take the Cannoli?” Did anyone else notice that it was just a bunch of stories about different stuff that ANYBODY could have written? She didn’t escape from a war, she didn’t discover any scientific discoveries, and she definitely didn’t figure out that having bangs and wearing makeup helps you be pretty. But she did grow up, go to high school, and have some friction with her dad and some trouble learning to drive! Sound familiar? WHATEVER. Also, yeah RIGHT you have a lisp and are allergic to gluten, and played the recorder. TOO ADORABLE, I AM NOT BUYING IT.

Then there’s David Sedaris, who unlike Sarah Vowell is actually really funny and a good writer and related to someone else funny and famous. However, he’s also just an OCD dude from the middle of nowhere in North Carolina of all places who did a lot of drugs, worked as a furniture mover, dropped out of art school, and sort of walked around for a while. JOIN THE CLUB, GUY.

So…why are these two living the good life and not having to wake up early to go to a job? Telling stories that anyone could tell and getting to be on national radio like every day? What is the secret to their relatively random success? I need to know, because getting famous enough to be able to live in like, Flatiron and not have to get up at 8 am is basically the most pressing goal on my plate right now.

Well, friends it’s pretty simple. Do you want not to be REALLY famous but at least get to be read by snobby kids on the F train and able to get published in NY Mag or whatever if you need vacay money? Then like Vowell and Sedaris, you need the magic ingredient. The magic ingredient is what qualifies you for publication other than being a hipster who loves to speak in public (HELLO, OVER HERE!).

DUH it’s Ira Glass.

King of Anecdotal Entertainment

[photo: commons.wikimedia.org]

Ira Glass, listen, I’m pretty sure that listening to/inserting poignant music into anecdotes from across the country and having a professorial speaking voice is not the same as being smart. So why don’t you just take off those sexy foxy salt and peppery used to have a ponytail infectious chuckle having smart guy Elvis Costello looking fake glasses and stop haunting my dreams with your unwelcome but undeniable sex appeal, k?

David Sedaris on Ira Glass:”I owe everything to Ira….My life just changed completely, like someone waved a magic wand. (wikipedia.org)”

Um yeah, no shit it did. I wish Ira Glass would wave his magical wand all over me too (yeah that’s right). One minute you’re reading your diary at an open mic night and like, working odd jobs, and then two seconds later you’re all over the mags and radio and getting artsy smoking pics taken of you! Pretty sweet if you ask me, and just the excuse I’ll need to take up smoking again in another 25 years…

"Ilive in France, but it's soo haaaaard!"

[photo: bloggingbunny.blogspot.com]

What if you don’t think you can meet Ira Glass? What then?

DO NOT PANIC. You just have to revert back to the time-tested approach of just being really pretty. Being pretty will still get you everything you want, including popularity and a book deal even if you grew up in the suburbs and your book revolves around a story about a boss who was pretty mean to you. It also doesn’t hurt to happen to work in book publishing while you are being so pretty.

[photo: mediabistro.com]

Oh um hey Sloane Crosley….sorry…I didn’t see you there, how awkward…. umm, you ARE really pretty though…

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Filed under general complaints, Honor!, jealousy, manhattan

Ahmadinejad Blushes Over Misinformation

Oh my gosh, it is so embarrassing when you say something that turns out to be false and then EVERYONE finds out about your mistake. You know, like at a party, or at work, or at a highly-controversial speaking engagement at Columbia. Making a verbal snafu is the WORST, you guys! I mean, sticking your foot in your mouth can really be a humbling experience.

One time I told my co-worker that she had to go over to Bryant Park to go to the closest Chipotle but there turned out to be one like RIGHT around the corner from us and she went like 3 blocks out of her way. I felt SO bad!

That’s almost the same as when  Mahmoud Ahmadinejad said, “We don’t have homosexuals like in your country. We don’t have that in our country. We don’t have this phenomenon; I don’t know who’s told you we have it.”

Ahmadinejad was probably SO MORTIFIED to pick up the paper today and find out that he made a little boo boo and there actually ARE gay Iranians, well there is one that we know of! Not a huge deal, but maybe he should have checked first with that guy who told that Columbia student about them. That guy was in the know, big time.

Let’s wait a few days for this to blow over and then break it to him gently that the Holocaust is real.

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Things They Do Look Awful C-C-Cold, I Hope I Die Before I Get Old

Yes that’s right. I’m talkin’ bout my generation.

You guys are aware that we’re being shat on in the media by the very flannel-wearing, pizza-faced slacketarians who used to babysit us and lifeguard at the pool when we were little, right? Well join me up here on this high-horse, because as Charlotte put it, “it’s fun up here. Feels right.”

So my story today starts with poor Robert Lanham.

(pictured below with under-appreciated associate D. Menace)

That frontal lobotomy is not treating him well. Not only did he further doucherize FreeBilly by taking out the galleries section recently (fact: Robert Lanham must have all the art in Williamsburg to himself!), but now he’s attacking what our staff statisticians report make up about 80% of his readership. The group I’m referring to, of course, is EVERYONE between the age of 18 and 27. I thought living somewhere youthful and hating youth was New York Shitty’s job.

Says Lanham of my generation in his May 13 article for radarmagazine.com:

They’re naive, self-important, and perpetually plugged in. This is a call to arms against millenials…They think updating a spreadsheet while simultaneously posting to a Twitter account about the latest gossip on perezhilton.com is an essential corporate skill. And…they’re always doing stupid shit, but rarely getting called on it.

First of all. Jeaaaaaaaaaaaallllllloouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuussssssss?????

Secondly, low blow, dawg. YOWCH! I bought all of your motherfucking deliciously entertaining books and now you have to go and do me like this. God. Parents just don’t understand. Way to join the dark side of the force.

Lanham before and after his Radar online article:

What scrambles my brain so thoroughly on this one is that Robert Lanham’s mental math just doesn’t add up with this attack on 20-somethings. Not only is he seriously biting the hand that feeds him by alienating himself from most of his readership, but he is also embarrassing himself by revealing to us, his Brooklyn-dwelling, blog-reading, and now teary-eyed former-admirers that he is in fact NOT hip, cool, or fun, but actually just old and crotchety AND A HYPOCRITE. LIKE EVERYONE ELSE WHO COMPLAINS ABOUT YOUNG PEOPLE.

Complaining about those younger than you immediately designates you as old, tired, bitter, and, like all dads everywhere, roller blades, vacations at Sandals resorts, last season’s ballet flats, and leggings-as-pants, tragically, tragically uncool.

Which, call me crazy, probably isn’t good for the editor of a major culture blog. BuT WhAt dO i KnOw i’M jUsT a SpOiLeD yOuNgStEr.

Way to get your super-chic, topic-of-the-moment article idea from 60 Minutes, broseph. Way to coast on a point argued on TV 6 months ago. Way to go. Yeah, way to go!

Above, Lanham in a recent interview.

The most wack part of this whole wack attack is that his afront on my peeps is totally unneccessary to his article! Ironically, his article focuses largely on whining about the unfair shake and lack of coddling and babying the boomers provided Generation X. He sort of implies that his generation longed for the treatment we receive, and that the boomers’ ill treatment of the X-ercists effed their shit up – which has nothing to do with Generation X’s (perhaps more favored, sure) followers…as we were in middle and high school when, to put it millenially, all of these dramz went down!

Lanham is blatantly hating the playa because of the game by dragging my generation into this boring punch-up of hurt 30-somethings looking to place blame everywhere but on themselves for their reputed baditudes. He says:

Let’s face facts: The boomers always detested Generation X. They felt threatened by our youth, confused by our lack of earnestness, and deeply troubled by our lack of appreciation for James Taylor. The boomers’ entire identity was wrapped around being young and progressive. Gen X was an affront to their place in the world. What’s more, they never understood us…

Since the ’90s, boomers have plotted to turn us into the redheaded stepchild of generations. We were slackers. Cynical. We loved Pauly Shore.

So… forgive me if it SEEMS like his complaints about Millenials sound exactly like the complaints about Gen X that he is complaining about with his complainy writing complaints. Complainer!

The bottom line is that Robert Lanham has no reason to villainize those younger than him simply for being born and leading productive, confidently Wikipedia-informed lives and succeeding while everyone lurves us and wants to hire us. I’m so glad that I can blog about how immature he is while I’m working on spreadsheets, playing Wii at my desk, typing on six laptops at once and linking everyone I know to this entry via Facebook and Myspace.

Lanham, we’re here and like it or not…we got to grow up with the internet and political correctness firmly in place. But we also fucking look up to you guys,

(and as for the outrageous cries from Gen X about our cultural appropriation….we’ll be confiscating your Led Zeppelin tapes now in the name of fairness, oh and the White Stripes and the Gossip count as ours so we’ll grabbing those from you too)

and buy your stupid culture-comment books and read your largely pointless blogs, so if you’re going to cry about how the boomers never liked you, at least be a man about it. Now it’s OUR TURN to call bullshit. You made us be PETE WENTZ!?

Now THAT is fucked.

sent from my iphone.

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I’ll have the Nazi Melt

Last night, Zach and I were enjoying our full, young, energetic lives in NYC by shutting ourselves in, sitting on the couch and watching the first of ALL OF THE INDIANA JONES MOVIES, which we tivo’d off of cable this weekend (in preparation for the new Indiana Jones movie that has that wacky Lewis Stevens in it, and don’t you dare pretend you don’t know who Lewis Stevens is, okay.)

First let me say this, have you seen Raiders since you were 10? I hadn’t. So I was surprised to find that in place of a serious, fast-paced, history-meets-adventure tale full of nail-biting suspense and beautiful scenery I ended up with this:

One question: is it true that faces melt before hats!? How can we test this without ruining nice hats?

Even though the Nazis were partially hilarious in this movie (their accent will always remind me of that fat caterpillar from A Bug’s Life), it reminded me of last summer when I revisited Salute Your Shorts only to find out to my horror that, despite thinking it dramatic/comedic genius at age 9, now I see that it isn’t a really great summer camp show, and it’s barely even campy. It’s actually just a lot of bad acting and side ponytails, which is something I can do on my own without TV anytime I want, thanks.

Now for some disturbing facts about car bombs! DRAW YOUR OWN CONCLUSIONS!

1. (If you ignore the hypothesis that there was one in Istanbul in 1905) the first car bomb happened in 1920 in New York City (SHOUT OUT!) on Wall and Broad Streets, shortly after the arrest of Sacco and Vanzetti. It exploded a horse and carriage. GRUESOME!

Thus, car bombs are not Irish, but American.

2. The 1981 release of Raiders of the Lost Ark coincided with the Soviet Afghan War, where carbombs happened!

INTERESTING!

3. There is a totally sweet carbomb explosion in Raiders!

SUSPICIOUS!

THUS, CAR BOMBS ARE AMERICAN AND INDIANA JONES IS AMERICAN AND BECAUSE OF MOVIES AND ACCESSIBLE INFORMATION AND MCWORLD, WE TOLD THE MIDDLE EAST ABOUT CAR BOMBS AND NOW THEY CAN USE THEM ON US.

I can’t believe George Lucas hates America even though most people have forgiven him for Jar Jar Binks!

Seriously, wtf.

(Warning: please check zero facts reported in this post)

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Filed under brooklyn, Honor!

Comic Couture

If you like Superheroes and their comics or even just their tights, then maybe you should follow this convenient link to the Metropolitan Museum’s Store, which has outdone itself by having every book I didn’t even know existed and now want more than anything ever in the world. You can order a book online if you want but you will still suck if you don’t live in NYC because unlike me, you cannot go see the reason for all of these lovely bound picture collections in person, which is the best most interesting exhibition of all time: “SUPERHEROES: FASHION AND FANTASY!”

(metmuseum.org)

My nerdar has been beeping OFF THE CHARTS since it opened a week ago (WITH A GALA ATTENDED BY ANNA WINTOUR) and I can’t wait to get off of work!

Says the museum of the exhibition,

The symbolic and metaphorical associations between fashion and the superhero are explored in this compelling exhibition. Featuring movie costumes, avant-garde haute couture, and high-performance sportswear, it reveals how the superhero serves as the ultimate metaphor for fashion and its ability to empower and transform the human body.”

What’s that, MMA? What did you whisper so alluringly into my eyes on your Special Exhibitions Page? I think it went Fashion…superhero…movie costume…metaphor? MMMMM, say it again, this time slower and with more emphasis on Batman. Oh yes! Yes!

It’s mostly about high fashion and masks and breastplates and stuff, but I told my boyfriend it was about Spiderman and now I am going to it tonight! Yesssssssss! BY THE TIME HE READS THIS IT WILL BE TOO LATE!

(pwbeat.publishersweekly.com)

You know what reader, get with the program, okay? I am so sick of your whining and irrelevant interjections about things I already know. You really make me want to throw up, also I feel sorry for you and you are not allowed to hang out or eat brunch with me or anything, if you are one of those losers who still has their panties in a major O twist over the Murakami exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum:

(original image from laist.com)

To you, Mr. Japanimation-loving-captain-of-old-news, I say WISE UP, SIR and GET OVER IT. Everyone is going to know how out of the loop you are if you walk around talking about that played out crap this week. For, now it is time to stub out your artful cigarettes and venture back into Manhattan to the museum we all usually forget to be excited about because

a) it is on the UES with all the old people

and

b) mixed in with the contemporary stuff, it has old boring stuff.

It’s safe to admit it here, reader, I will hardly even judge you. I mean, I work there and I will own up to the Met’s lack of youth appeal, because hey….old furniture? Pictures of Jesus? Not really my fave.

But I’m here to tell you that the Met has some seriously not-lame or square things going on right now. Not only the best exhibition of all time (see above), but also Jeff Koons’ aluminum balloon animals on the roof garden.

(metmuseum.org)

A side-note: the roof garden, for those of you who don’t know, is a lovely slate-floored rooftop heaven hovering above Central Park where you can drink strong and really expensive drinks from two bars (and pretend you are RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICH!) and look out over the whole Upper East and West skylines and all the green in between. Try not to throw up over the side!

Sorry I tried to give you some news about culture, ingrate reader! Sorry that I look out for you too much and know too much about stuff going on! I guess you don’t EVEN care that design week is almost here (see google or next week’s post about it for deets). You’re smelcome, loseur!

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Filed under Art, comics, Honor!, manhattan, the Met