There’s a new Japanese Fusion place down the street from me called “Wasabi Lobby.” Ha. Last nite I smoked and stared at the menu they shoved under my door and imagined an art decco building lobby made out of wasabi. The walls and floor and ceiling would all be that hideous bright green and spongy to the touch, and I’d come gliding in on my bicycle made out of spicy tuna rolls.

Ha. Wasabi Lobby. I love this City.

New York Fuckin City. Where fatherfuckers like me talk a lot of shit cuz we can back it up.

I was sooooo happy to get the hell out of North Carolina. We took a cab from JFK, and I could feel something twist in my tummy as we raced towards Manhattan on the L.I.E. The traffic got crazier—the lights more numerous and the billboards turned into towering monoliths. There it is, there it is! I exclaimed, as I pointed thru the windshield at the sight of the skyline glowing in the hazy night sky. I felt a little like crying. It’s not an unusual for me to get like that, after I’ve been a way for awhile. Besides, I’d watched way too much HBO in my shitty, wood paneled motel room. They must have played “The Day After Tomorrow” a thousand times in 4 days. Of course, I couldn’t turn it off, on account of the tidal wave scenes, which fascinated me and filtered into my dreams. Again and again I watched as New York was destroyed before my eyes…my home swallowed up by water and ice and snow, just as countless times before I’ve watched as it was burned to the ground, vaporized by aliens, shattered by nuclear blasts, looted by raging crowds, terrorized by a handful of sadistic fucks, attacked like a drunken sorority girl…thousands and thousands of movie minutes and television clips and 9/11 on masochistic repeat…

I was so happy to see that it was OK. That it was still there…still happening.

You always hear about how New Yorkers are rude as fuck but really we’re just loud and up front about shit.

I’ve seen a zillion more displays of folks being down for one another than I have of folks being violent.

Isn’t it possible to be loud AND peaceful?

What I want is for Hollywood to make a movie about aliens attacking fucking Beverly Hills. I wanna see those mansions getting zapped…I want to see all of Rodeo Drive on fire while stringy haired, fake tan bitches go running down the street, waving their credit cards in the air…

Put THAT on yr HBO and overplay the shit out of it.


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