NYC PSA: Licking Subways A-OK!
March 5, 2015

showgirls nyc subway pole

Gothamist recently reported that, according to Weill Cornell Medical College’s Dr. Chris Mason, “you’d probably be fine” from licking a subway pole. This is excellent news for germaphobic pole fetishists and the perfect excuse to me photoshop the above beauty into existence! What time is it? IT’S SHOW(girls)TIME!

Everybody Is a Critic…of Fifty Shades of Grey
February 19, 2015

fifty shades of grey poster nyc subway graffiti

I spotted this pithy critique en graffiti (a graffitique, if you will?) at the 23rd Street subway station, in the heart of the Chelsea gayborhood. It’s the end result of someone literally can’t even with Fifty Shades of Grey, but definitely can with a Sharpie. Guess they aren’t hot for contract law, either.

Oh, Chelsea: the library is closed, but the David Barton Gym is always open.

Oh Look! Here’s Ursula Reading Ender’s Game on the NYC Subway
October 31, 2013

ursula on the mta

You know, it’s like what I overheard some girl say later that same evening: “Well yeah, of course there’s f*cking people in costumes. It’s Halloween!”

Benjamin’s Hard Hitting Questions: Which X-Man Would You Be?
July 16, 2009

Well, it seems that the nerd dams have burst ever since I’ve let Shmathan and Sharker contribute to the blog, but you won’t find me complaining.  Frankly, when there’s a party, I’m always inclined to join.  And, to be frank, nerd parties are something of which I know all too well.

In my youth, I could frequently be found pouring over comic books in my bedroom like a nerd boy in heat.  My tastes, admittedly, always ran a little queer: Obvious titles in the Marvel canon were always overtook by the more random and obscure ends of the Marvel universe.  I cut my comic book teeth on the parody series What The–?!Sleepwalker was my favorite title, and I gravitated to Generation X and the inspired artistry of Chris Bachalo over any other X spinoff.   These things happen.

Nevertheless, these colors don’t run and blahblahblah, so I’d be lying by omission if I didn’t admit to being a Marvel nerd.  Always have, and always will.  That was my closet, and here is my exit:

marvel.jpg

Trust me, the pink-letter editorialization merely obscures the beauty.  Enjoy, and let’s move on.

Anyways, all (nerd) things considered, this brings us to the real and most important question to ever be blogged: WHICH X-MAN WOULD YOU BE?  It’s deceptively simple to ask, but terribly complicated to answer.

For example, if you were Cyclops, you could accessorize in the most fabulous of ways:

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Love Means Never Having to Say You’re Sorry (to the Other Passengers on a Crowded MTA Car)
April 21, 2009

Back when I first started working, I relied upon my iPod and the occasional book to entertain me during my morning commute into the city from Brooklyn.  Then one day, I spotted them: the PDA Couple.  Chances are that if you’ve ever ridden a subway in New York City, you’ve encountered one of their kind at one point or another.  There are plenty of Drunken Hipster PDA Couples that you can spot on the L train late at night on the weekends, so those aren’t really unusual.  In fact, they’re really quite common.  This couple, my PDA Couple, however, was special.

pda-couple(artist’s interpretation; not actual PDA couple, though these people are totally classy in their own right)

Like some magical clockwork we’d find each other in the same cart at least a few times a week.  They’d be pressed up against the doors of the train, dressed for their respectable adult jobs while making out like they were middle schoolers who’d just discovered the rapturous pleasures of first base.  Every morning that I’d see them, the air must’ve been filled with a strange magnetism that inexplicably brought them into my line of vision and quite explicably brought me to near tears/vomiting.  There love was moving to behold, inspiring to the bitter and heartbroken, and completely inappropriate for 7:50 in the morning.  This ballet of romantic mutual delight continued for months, and everyday it was a train wreck of passion from which, once spotted, I could never turn away.

Then, one terrible day, I stopped seeing them.  Nothing had changed in my schedule, so I knew something was amiss on their end.  I grew frightened.

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