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and here's something
weird: my place
in Humor 3-space

Wednesday, July 30, 2003
 
I am a New Yorker, and that is a large part of why I am so annoying. Of course it is also why I am so unassailably awesome. But while showing Confusing Wizard around the city last weekend, I caught myself starting way too many sentences with "See, New Yorkers don't blah blah blah" or ending sentences with "...that's what we [New Yorkers] do." All very self-consciously tongue-in-cheek, natch, but still: there it was. Like: "New Yorkers don't mind sitting on the sidewalk, because we don't have the luxury of hectares of municipally groomed grass to cushion our fannies," or "Don't worry about traffic lights: just cross the street wherever." Except of course I didn't say "hectares," "municipally groomed," or "cushion," or "fannies."
     The point is: I gotta shut up already. I am trapped here, and like any prisoner, I am trying to make the best of it, trying to justify my position as a matter of personal choice. And though it's true that it's not as pathetic as a guy in Myfuckhole, Ohio saying "Man, we got ever'thing a person could want, right here in Myfuckhole!" or blubber-encased pastel church lady from Gorgor, Wisconsin describing her hamlet as a "little corner of heaven!" GOD! Listen to me! Does anybody actually say shit like that? They can't possibly. On this issue, I am trapped between my New Yorker's condescension for ANYBODY that doesn't live here and my New Yorker's reflexive questioning of all received wisdom (aside: I suck). People don't talk like that anywhere, right? Then again, people do believe in Jesus, so there ya go.
     I can never leave, because I need a bodega in walking distance EVERY MOMENT OF MY LIFE, in case I feel a 2am need to shout through bulletproof plexi at a guy who is trying to translate my English words and Western hand gestures into whatever means "Camel" his local Tajikistani dialect -- or maybe it's "filters" or "hard pack" that he's having trouble with. Also I need to live in a place that comprehends the concept of "walking distance." But mostly, I need to know that when I spit on the ground, there is a chance I am making it cleaner.
     Because I spit a lot.

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MY IMAGINARY GIRLFRIENDS

Chan Marshall
Rotem of the IDF
Eleanor Friedberger
Amy Goodman
Bernardine Dohrn ('69)
Maya Rudolph
Joanna Newsom
Imogen Heap
Caroline Dhavernas

Shana Rae Ray

DISALLOWED FOREVER

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you!"
-
"from whence"
-
"...the exception that proves the rule"
-
any use of the question "spit or swallow?"
-
the phrase "drop trou"
-
fake-o reviewer verbs:
"penned" for wrote
"helmed" for directed
"lensed" for whatever
-
"expat"
-
the euphemism
"passed away"
-
pronouncing merci beaucoup as "mercy buckets!"
(see also: "grassy-ass!")



PET PEEVES

"confinscated"
-
trying children "as adults"
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"drownded"
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misuse of reflexive pronouns, as when someone says "Please talk to Bob or myself." Come on people now. "Myself" is not just a fancy version of "me"! LEARN IT.
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tattoos in the Courier font
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any use of Comic Sans