Done tweazing. You can bug me again.
By the way, to the yokel who corrected my spelling of tweazing. No, I didn't mean tweezing. I meant tweezing+teasing+tweaking+teething. Hence, tweazing.
I'm staying at a friend's house in the West Village until I can find a real home (adoption application will be posted shortly). The WV is kinda like the VW Bug in that it's small and cute and familiar and kinda Nazi in some dark, atrociously tasteful way; a bit like the WB in that it's tacky and cheesy and eager to please; and kinda like VD in that you feel infected with kitsch within hours and want to go somewhere, anywhere less theme-parky, even disney world, to cleanse the sores on your soul.
Oh, yeah, and it's got that MD wiff to it. Stinks of shrinks. (Are shrinks MD's? Whatever they are, that's what it stinks of.)
There are no bums like WV bums. This afternoon, one such fellow, dressed in what will undoubtedly be gracing the windows of the Marc Jacobs boutique next season, growled vociverously at my friend's dogs. A pit bull and a ridgeback pit mix. I mean, come on, that's a bum with balls. If only he could get royalties for his style . . . he'd be a rich fuckin drunk. If only Marc could take a lesson from his balls instead of his clothes, he'd be a great fucking designer.
Oh yeah, one thing I LOVE about the WV, and will recommend to anyone new to NY, is its proximity to the West Side Highway. The Hudson River park is pretty spiffed up for the yuppies these days, but if you walk on the east side of the highway , there's still plenty of grim reminders that just a heartbeat ago, this was assfuck central. Seedy, sexy, and sincere down to the condom collection decorating the sidewalk. There's a hotel, now boarded up, where I've always wanted to spend a night just to hear the whores and crackheads moan away their hour-long stay. With Valentines around the corner, it really brings a tear to my eye to think this place is no longer taking customers. Some developer is gonna be cumming all over it instead.
So long, New York. Gimme shelter in brooklyn.
By the way, to the yokel who corrected my spelling of tweazing. No, I didn't mean tweezing. I meant tweezing+teasing+tweaking+teething. Hence, tweazing.
I'm staying at a friend's house in the West Village until I can find a real home (adoption application will be posted shortly). The WV is kinda like the VW Bug in that it's small and cute and familiar and kinda Nazi in some dark, atrociously tasteful way; a bit like the WB in that it's tacky and cheesy and eager to please; and kinda like VD in that you feel infected with kitsch within hours and want to go somewhere, anywhere less theme-parky, even disney world, to cleanse the sores on your soul.
Oh, yeah, and it's got that MD wiff to it. Stinks of shrinks. (Are shrinks MD's? Whatever they are, that's what it stinks of.)
There are no bums like WV bums. This afternoon, one such fellow, dressed in what will undoubtedly be gracing the windows of the Marc Jacobs boutique next season, growled vociverously at my friend's dogs. A pit bull and a ridgeback pit mix. I mean, come on, that's a bum with balls. If only he could get royalties for his style . . . he'd be a rich fuckin drunk. If only Marc could take a lesson from his balls instead of his clothes, he'd be a great fucking designer.
Oh yeah, one thing I LOVE about the WV, and will recommend to anyone new to NY, is its proximity to the West Side Highway. The Hudson River park is pretty spiffed up for the yuppies these days, but if you walk on the east side of the highway , there's still plenty of grim reminders that just a heartbeat ago, this was assfuck central. Seedy, sexy, and sincere down to the condom collection decorating the sidewalk. There's a hotel, now boarded up, where I've always wanted to spend a night just to hear the whores and crackheads moan away their hour-long stay. With Valentines around the corner, it really brings a tear to my eye to think this place is no longer taking customers. Some developer is gonna be cumming all over it instead.
So long, New York. Gimme shelter in brooklyn.
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The writing is good, no rambling just obervations.