Only money brings you here? Hell no! I just love to have my picture taken with lions.

Oh me oh my how I can't stand The Ex. In the never ending saga of one person being a total douche to another person I now have to pay "late fees and excess account charges" in the neighborhood of $300. Really? You're that hard up for chaos and revenge that you're going to sic your attorney on me for $300? Such an ass. As the Swede said over pasta, "She's a loser. Just remember that and you will be fine. At least you don't have kids with that loser." Truer words were never spoken. (passage redacted due to legal reasons) I just need to pay this lunatic and get on with my wonderful life.

NYC is funny. CBGBs is a boutique store dedicated to... CBGB's paraphernalia. The Bowery has been refigured as an East Coast Melrose. People preen and dress up and look like piranhas on a fucking Thursday night while all the while the junkies scream at each other and the illegals do all the real work and the middle class just tries to make it across a bridge or through a tunnel and back to some semblance of sanity. I love that people say LA is so fake a New York is a "real" city. Stand inside a club or a restaurant in Manhattan and tell me that all of the store bought tans and overpriced clothes and robot smiles are real. Watch a gaggle of desperate suits puff up their chests whenever a group of coked up chickenheads walks by and tell me this is anything other than performance are writ large. Tell me! I dare you! Give me a slice and a beer with my pals in a rat hole bar and I'm in the real New York. You can keep Park Ave, I'll take the Bowery! Oh wait, that's all yupped out. I'll take the Alphabets! Oh wait, that's all yupped out too. Dammit! Brooklyn! Nope, gentrified. Aw hell, I'm out of here. You can find me on a beach in Cali come Sunday morn.

Peace out, bitches!