On one side of the blade there is all the wonderful-ness that NYC has to offer. The abundance of bodegas that offer raspberry sparkling water and Mango Hi-Chews, great people watching, excitement,”The Meatball Shop” restaurant, cheap mani/pedis, my hamster, Gurrrrrrrrl, etc, etc. On the other end of the spectrum there is all the shittiness that is intrinsically NYC. I am not even going to mention the ridiculously expensive rent, the shitty PR girls, the lack of Target’s and the general filthiness.

This post is instead inspired by two rather topical issues that have arisen today.

First off, I am trying to read my damn ass book (“The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo”, I’ll let you know how it turns out) whilst enjoying a lovely breeze from my window which is ajar. Well, no one informed that it’s SHITTY reggaeton music night at the ‘jects across the street from me (which happen to be more luxurious than the Anne Frank floorboard that I live in…). Anyways, this shitty Pitbull junk is blasting, with no end in sight. I really don’t know where this spectacularly loud sound system is planted and how no one has called the police to report a noise disturbance, as I am positive at least one irritable yuppy who is trying to face to face chat on his iPhone 4G must live on this block.

SECONDLY, there are too many damn Krustiez. Krustiez are a type of subterranean filth mongrels who inhabit every inch of the East Village, especially Tompkins Square Park, which is where they reproduce like amoeba and roll around in dirt, etc. The Krustiez are hobos by choice and are stinky and not cute and chic and endearing like some street urchins. They hold up signs that say “Spare some $ so I can get wasted,” and other shitty things like that. I mean, I waited in line behind a KG (Krusty Girl) at H&M once and spent the entire time trying to avoid being swished in the face by her unruly dreadlocks. Today on my way to work, I stumbled upon a tribe of Krustiez who were snoozing on discarded mattresses (which has presumably tossed to the curb due to bed bugs, ewww) and grooming themselves. And I swear the few who were grooming each other were eating the parasites that they plucked from their dreds.

EWWW. File this post under “things that should be illegal”.

2. Pictures of clouds taken from airplane windows. This is NOT interesting.

3. Pictures of grafitti.

4. Nude images of Kate Moss.

5. Quotes written in Old Tymey font that say things like “Work hard, play hard.”

6. Movie stills with subtitles.

7. Pictures of Alice Dellal.

8. Pictures of anything from Miu Miu Spring 2011 collection.

9. Pictures of the Eiffel tower are in-excusable.

10. As are pictures of cupcakes.

11. Teacups.

12.Overdeveloped photos of flowers.

I went to work today and realized on the way there that

a. I was wearing inappropriate footwear. inappropriate in the sense that the shoes I was wearing have caused not 1 but 2 major foot injuries (one I am suffering dearly for right now) and that they have begun to abuse and torture and rip my feet to shreds. I continue wearing them because they are an ideal shoe, in essence. They are cork platforms with a metallic gold knotted strap (very “I Love Lucy”).  So they give me like an extra 3 inches of height (therefore seemingly reducing my weight by 5 lbs, this is a proven fact) and compliment many an outfit. But these shoes have turned on me.

b.I realized that I feel under the weather. This could be from sleeping with air conditioning blasting in my face or just from my overall mental/emotional BLAHness that has now seeped into my immune system.

So I get to work today at 11 and from the hours of 11-7 I sat in the same chair and did nothing. Nooooooothing. I didn’t even spend my time proactively by looking for new shoes online. I really sat there and practiced NOTHINGNESS. I could draw some huge spiritual statement from this or make some sort of life resolution to not wallow in misery and yuck-ness and instead be creative, but ehh, I don’t feel well.

Also, I am the proud owner of a pint of Ben and Jerry’s peach cobbler ice cream. I am straying from my usual chocolate selections. I rate it a 6 out of 10 because I feel it should have more pieces of the promised short bread and also, some sort of cinnamon swirl should have been involved.

a. he wrote this himself

b. the most depressing wiki entry ever submitted, after like, Matthew Shepard’s

c. what inspired Gucci to knight him WAKA FLOCKA? What’s the basis?!

d. I have highlighted in red crucial passages.

Waka Flocka Flame

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Juaquin Malphurs, (born July 1986) better known by his stage name Waka Flocka Flame,^[1] is an American rapper signed to So Icey Entertainment. He is the son of Debra Antney, Gucci Mane‘s manager and CEO of So Icey/Mizay Entertainment.^[2]

Biography

Malphurs moved with his family from Jamaica, Queens, New York to Riverdale, Georgia when he was nine years old. As a child, drug dealers and basketball players were his role models.^[3]

The name “Waka Flocka” was given to him by rapper Gucci Mane.^[4] Waka Flocka Flame is a member of the 1017 Brick Squad, with Gucci Mane, OJ Da Juiceman, Frenchie, and Wooh Da Kid.^[5] He is currently preparing his debut album and a mixtape with the Brick Squad.^[3]

He was shot in the arm while struggling with a robber at a car wash in Atlanta, Georgia on the morning of January 19, 2010. His debut single is called “O Let’s Do It“,^[6] which peaked at #62 on the Billboard Hot 100. His debut album (yet to be titled) will be released sometime in 2010^[7].