Tuesday, May 25, 2010

I Need a Dollar

Ever pissed on a police department in New York? Me neither. I'm sitter here typing outside right next to one and I really have to go. I'll probably just go inside to do it.

I can never fight the feeling that sometimes I'm not taking enough risks. If I were to die in the next 15 minutes, I'd probably wish I had done more reckless shit with my life. Base jumping, or hang gliding, or swimming with manta rays. Brooklyn is way more tame than I ever could have imagined. So many hipsters. So many fixed gear bikes. Maybe I'm in heaven, should I hate it here?
I don't.

Is there such thing as a dollar cab? my friend insists that they exist. I've heard that it's just slang for the subway. Who knows.

What I do know is that Marlboro is the black coffee of cigarettes. I'm actually kind of glad I picked these, they make me feel nauseous enough to stop me from smoking. So instead I'm just focused on how to make it in America. I really wish I lived here, it's just right, exactly where I wish I could be. This sounds stereotypical, trust me, I know.
I'm just about ready to vomit and go to bed so I can't continue, but I promise, there will be more to come very soon.