Coffee with my cousin Todd. (at InterContinental® Boston)
View from the room. (at InterContinental® Boston)
Birthday dinner. Tacos al Governador at Vamos al Tequila. (at Vamos Al Tequila)
Big glamorous birthday plans today. (at New York State DMV - License X-Press)
The best part of being in Penn Station. Had a blueberry and a chocolate cream filled donut. (at Krispy Kreme Doughnuts)
Goodbye, bottle of fish oil pills that it feels like I’ve had forever. You were cheap, fine and went down easy. Enjoy whatever landfill or recycling facility you end up in. (at New York, NY)
I took the G 3/4 train to get here. (at 6 1/2 Avenue)
Really weird to see that someone put one of those religious cards in the elevator of where I work.
Here is one WNYCers formula for when you get to call yourself a real New Yorker:
(CriedInStreet) x (KnowWhereToStandOnPlatform) / (7Years) ^ (HateSantaCon)
So what’s yours?
My formula for when you get to call yourself a real New York would be:
(How Many Years You Lived In Your Neighborhood Before It Was “Discovered”) x (Number Of Times You’ve Been Late To Anything Because Of The G Train) + (Number Of Different Apartments You’ve Had) / (Amount Of Times You’ve Gone To The Hamptons In The Summer) x (Number Of Times You’ve Mocked New Jersey Or Staten Island) x (Number Of Times You’ve Waited On Line To Get Into A Grocery Store)