2009
In case you haven’t been able to tell by my never-ending flow of edgy sarcasm, I’m from New York City. Yep, the oh-so-glamorous capital of the world. Glitz, glamour….and grime. It seems as though our illustrious city envied throughout the world has been reduced to streets full of Snickers bar wrappers, discarded condoms and thoroughly used Kleenex.
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Okay, I’m in a bad mood so forgive me if I bite your head off here without bothering to chew. That disclaimer aside, what in the name of all that is holy has happened to society? This has frustrated me before, my friends, but we are being replaced by machines. And no, I don’t believe in Nostrodamus, the impending apocalypse, or suicidal Oompa Loompas.
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So you’re wearing your brand new 200 dollar Hugo Boss shoes for the very first time – It feels like you’re walking on clouds and you’re flying high. Everything is splendid. Until…squish! ”What the hell was that? That sure as hell didn’t feel like clouds to me!”. So, you look down, and your worst nightmares are confirmed – You’ve just stepped in the largest pile of dog dung ever known to man and your beautiful shoes are, alas, no more.
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Okay. Here’s another no-brainer, people. Ready? Great. So you’re in a rush to get to work. Or to bring carnations to your long lost lover. Or to bury your dog. Whatever. And, wait, what’s this? That my friend, is an intersection, and alas, you need to turn. Now, given that you have the monumental task of turning the steering wheel in the appropriate direction, it’s understandable that you’d forget all about that mysterious looking lever on the left side of your steering wheel, so being the gentleman I am, I’ll enlighten you…
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So, it’s no secret that I’m madly in love with New York. Yes, in all its dirty, quirky, rude, rat-infested, cabbie-driven wonder. Just something about the character oozing out of every pore of our beloved city that nowhere else can match. Yeah, even Canada. But even with my undying love for fellow New Yorkers with attitudes, there’s just one thing (okay, okay, maybe a bit more than just one thing) that brings out the Hell’s Kitchen Dr. Jekyll in me….
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Alright, you got me, I admit it. I’m a total geek. I make sweet, sweet love to my Blackberry Curve on a regular basis, all my music is in MP3 format, and, yes, Google is my friend (with benefits). Gotta love technology, right? I mean, gone our the days where we actually had to remember phone numbers (hell, I’ll be damned if I even remember my own), a limitless music library is just a click away and most of us pay our bills (gag) without using a single shred of paper. Sounds completely awesome, doesn’t it? A sci-fi world come to life – Ahhhh….
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Yeah, I admit it – I’m a hopeless music-lover. Without music, I’d be, well, that much insane-er (Grammar Police, welcome to JerkLogic). And listening to my favorite music when I’m pushing 80 miles an hour on the freeway just borders on orgasmic. Well, until the dude in the pimped-out Civic with 36-inch rims and loud bass fills my rearview mirror – Then the fun begins.
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