Friday, February 19, 2010
Last week New York got hit with a big ass snow storm that everyone was freaking out about. Just as the first snowflakes began to trickle out of the clouds, New Yorkers pointed to the sky, dropped bags of groceries in the street, and bolted the doors of their underground snow bunkers.
Was it pretty snowy? Sure. Was it the coming of the apocalypse? Hardly.
But you know who wasn't complaining? This guy. Cause guess who got a snow day out of it. This guy.
Seriously, when was the last time you got a snow day? 3rd grade? 4th grade? I mean, we probably got 6 or 7 inches of snow (mayyyybe), and you would have thought frogs were falling from the sky.
To be honest, the city was really beautiful for, like, four minutes.
Luckily, most of the snow is gone by now, leaving behind the scuzzy gray crust that had city kids rejoicing in the streets, prompting crust ball fights and crust angels as far as the eye could see.
Posted by s. moe at 10:39 AM
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
When we first got to this city, I was a little concerned with how cool everyone was. It just seems too exhausting to keep up with. Your pants have to be tighter, your shoes have to be more neon, your scowl more scowley.
But the longer we’re here, the more we realize that very few of the people who act like douchey New Yorkers are actually from New York. It’s like this special douche bag peacock effect, meant to distract people from finding out that they’re really from Topeka, Kansas. (No offense, Topeka)
In fact, we’ve found most people to be totally normal and nice and not too cool to join, say, our Wednesday night advertising bowling league.
Even more refreshing is the fact that nobody on our team cares how bad I suck ass at bowling. Naturally, the missus is like a regular Walter Ray Williams Jr. (what? You don’t know Ray Ray?), rolling consistent 120’s.
I, on the other hand, am lucky to break a hundo on any given night, which, according to Google, makes me a regular Michael Fechke.
Whoever that is.
Anyway, here’s a blurry picture of 4/7ths of our team, entitled Bowler? I Hardly Know Her.
Posted by s. moe at 11:44 AM