Face shirts

You know what makes sense? This:

Tupac’s face belongs on a shirt. He is important. He died tragically. I wouldn’t even hate if I saw Tupac face pants.

But today, I saw a dress with guess whose face emblazoned on it? Not Tupac’s. Not Biggie’s. Not even Reba McEntire’s. It was CHELSEA HANDLER’S FACE, my friends. All big and graffiti-style. On a sundress.

WHY. WHY. Watching YouTube clips of Chelsea Handler’s standup is literally what I do when I want to wallow in the depths of despair. Her standup is the saddest. She has a joke (literally! I am going to say literally a lot in this post because without saying it I don’t know how to talk about Chelsea Handler!) about how hard it is to divide numbers by twelve. Like, who can DO that? She also has a joke about how some babies are assholes, which sounds like it could be funny except that is the whole joke, beginning, middle, and end included: “Some babies are assholes.” She has another joke (I could do this all day, I hope somebody stops me soon) that goes “I pooped in my boyfriend’s bathroom, and it smelled.” If I had the power to read minds, I would never read Chelsea Handler’s because that shit would put me to SLEEP. I might wake up in the middle of sleeping and think, “Why don’t you learn some simple mental math tricks, Chelsea?!” but I would fall back asleep almost immediately.

I am happy (sort of) that Chelsea Handler is able to support herself, despite her chronically boring reflections on the human condition/her own poop, but her face does not belong on clothing. She is not on that level. Also, she is alive, and face clothing status is mostly reserved for dead people (and Reba. I like Reba! She seems very friendly!).

New York I love you but I don’t love the G train

I moved to New York! At least for the summer, and maybe for longer. So far, everything has worked out perfectly, and I am living in a nice apartment I found on Craigslist (where you can find everything nice, and also serial killers!). People keep hating on my living sitch, though, for two reasons:

1) It is near the worst train ever, the G train. This is the main way I have made friends so far. People talk about trains all the time here (I don’t know why… I overheard a couple arguing for so long about the relative merits of uptown routes that I thought they were going to BREAK UP and then MURDER EACH OTHER and then GO UPTOWN ON THE 1 AND 2 RESPECTIVELY but as ghosts) and so when I meet someone new I try to weave into the conversation that I take the G to work. You think no one in New York has maternal impulses, because they are coldhearted city slickers, but that is just because YOU commute on the A. I have never gotten more pity. It’s pretty deserved, though–the G is always getting rerouted so that like, instead of a bunch of stops, there is just one stop. And the one stop is like,  jail. Automatic 20-life sentence! Do not pass go! Do not collect $200! Thanks for taking the G train!

2) My immediate neighborhood is very nice. There are a lot of bodegas, where you can buy many, many different kinds of meat. In bulk! Marcy Houses is in my less immediate neighborhood, though, which makes some of my friends think I am going to die immediately. On the other hand, it makes my dad very happy. He called me after he Googled my neighborhood, and he said it looked a littttttle shady.

“Then again,” he said, “it can’t be that bad. Jay-Z is from right around there!”

This comment raises a lot of questions, the main one being: How does my dad know where Jay-Z grew up? Is he secretly young? Does he have a Twitter account that he keeps on the DL? Does he know what FUPA means? You should ask him, because I don’t want to…

Brooklyn (+ cheap bed!)

I just read an article I loved so much that I e-mailed it to basically everyone I know. It’s by Tao Lin, a guy who, I discovered after extensive Googling, is weird. BUT, more importantly, Tao Lin is from Brooklyn and doesn’t really know anything about Seattle. I am from Seattle, and have literally never been to Brooklyn. And yet I am moving there! Soon! So soon, and I have to get rid of my bed. Do you need a bed?

Anyway, here is what I know about Brooklyn, based on people I know who are from there. It’s like I’m plagiarizing Tao Lin… BUT BACKWARDS. And worse. And shorter.

1) People in Brooklyn make/listen to music that does not have a tune. It is just metal scraping against metal, and birds cheeping. The birds cheep during the chorus. The metal scraping is the verses. No one in Brooklyn listens to Justin Bieber, knows who Justin Bieber is, or will enjoy listening to me talk about Justin Bieber for hours. Sorry in advance, Brooklyn!

2) People in Brooklyn (my list is already contradicting itself) like Jay-Z. One of them IS Jay-Z. However, as a stat minor, I know you can’t take Jay-Z as a representative sample of a borough. He is too special!

3) People in Brooklyn eat a lot of bagels. Their bagels are better than the bagels in our campus Einstein Bros., my friend from Brooklyn always tells me while wearing a large plaid shirt.

4) There is a movie called Crooklyn. It is about Brooklyn. This is not based on my friends from Brooklyn–it is based on me trying to rent it like a year ago and then the video store not having it and then me not seeing it but wondering what it is about sometimes. It is directed by Spike Lee!

5) The train I am living closest to in Brooklyn–the G train–is the stupidest of all the trains. It comes like, every two hours. My friend says the only way the G train is fun is if you buy a 40 and drink it while you wait. I don’t know if I will do that, though, because I don’t want to get arrested for vagrancy.

6) You need a “thing” to survive in Brooklyn. My friend told me not to worry though– I have the “thing.” I asked some questions about it, but it remained unspecified. I think the thing might be that, because I used to be a bagger, I am used to strangers cussing me out and do not cry when it happens.