I had a Jaeger Bomb tonight—specifically, Jaegermeister dropped into Monster energy drink. It tasted like the interior of a glowstick. It tasted like it was designed by a six year-old wino. It gave me an enduring case of the hiccups.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m going insane. Other times—the times that really bother me—I wonder how insane you’d have to be for anyone to notice.

Keller Mulroy, It’s Night Time in Minot, ND

Finally, it is worth noting that despite common references to “a Bronx accent,” or “a Brooklyn accent,” no published study has found any feature that varies internally beyond local names. Impressions that the dialect varies geographically may be a byproduct of class and/or ethnic variation.

wikipedia

This I did not know. It feels awfully unintuitive to me—though

it does simplify matters considerably.

I will tell you this: pizzicato violins will get a man every time.

Who knew, dear friends,

that one head
could hold so much phlegm?

this has also been posted on the Booze Council Blotto

The intelligent man is always thirsty. He stretches his gaze ever outward; he is never satisfied with his body of experience, but instead pushes his horizons as far as resources will allow. He raises himself above his peers, always; first he conquers the fruits of his native land, and then he moves on—the heathen Chinee, the savage, noble Swede—all men, and all cultures are grist for the mill that is our man’s throbbing, pregnant brain. He thirsts ever for knowledge, and for booze.

And why not for booze? For booze, that great deadener of the brain cells, loosener of limbs, deepest joy to loins and a sure cure for an over-keen awareness of the paper-thin materiality of this life of ours, is also an aesthetic joy, because it is a boundless and granulated field, and its ranks are populated from every nation that has roamed the earth. The fermented mare’s milk of the Khazakh steppes, the honey wine of the old Norse—we are surrounded by a boundless bounty. It is our duty and our joy to take sip from every booze we may find.

In the beginning minutes of the BBC Films movie, Conspiracy, there is a quick couple of shots of a hand calligraphing name cards, for a table setting, in fraktur. Honestly? I got choked up for a moment.

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You make some rhubarb goop and some custard goop, and you put them right in these bad boys.

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Homemade scallion pancakes for dinner, and scrambled eggs over the leftovers for breakfast.

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That's the Atlantic Ocean!

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Used car lot—all police cars, all the time.

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Taken without flash. The original was hella yellow.

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The view down 9th Avenue in Hell's Kitchen.

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The view down 9th Avenue in Hell's Kitchen.

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The view down 9th Avenue in Hell's Kitchen.

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The view down 9th Avenue in Hell's Kitchen.

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The Hearst Building, on 57th St.

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The Hearst Building, 57th & 8th

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The Hearst Building, on 57th St.

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