Rejection Is A Beautiful Thing

I love you.

I'm scooting off to work in a sec, but I needed to post a link to this beautiful rejection letter written by the one-and-only Hunter S. Thompson in 1971 in response to a piece of satire submitted to Rolling Stone magazine. I saw it posted on my beloved bible, the Gothamist (!!please hire me!!), this morning and felt the need to share it with my blog readership/my parents, who may be the only members of my blog readership.

You worthless, acid-smoking piece of illiterate shit! Don't ever send this kind of brain-damaged swill in here again. If I had the time, I'd come out there and drive a fucking wooden stake into your forehead. Why don't you get a job, germ? Maybe delivering advertising handouts door to door, or taking tickets for a wax museum. You drab South Bend cocksuckers are all the same; like those dope-addled dingbats at the Rolling Stone offices. I'd like to kill those bastards for sending me your piece... and I'd just as soon kill you, too. Jam this morbid drivel up your ass where your readership will better appreciate it. P.S. Keep up the good work. Have a nice day.

If I get rejected from another job, which I most certainly will, I can only hope that Hunter's ghost will fly from the heavens and tell me to "jam [my] morbid drivel up [my] ass where [my] readership will better appreciate it."

And people wonder why I've read Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas approx. 17 times...

Talkin' About Things. And Things.

I really should update more... in the span of time since I last wrote a post, the United States economy went way downhill (again) and I finally learned how to snap my fingers with my left hand. What a week.

Also, today I saw SEVEN rats at the 1st Ave L stop. SEVEN. That's almost as many mice as I had in my college apartment! I became a bit nostalgic as I watched them scurry about the tracks, carrying cardboard, cell phones and random bits of machinery into their lairs. I'm not sure why everyone's so concerned about robots taking over the earth. Those damn rats are huge and will totally wipe out humanity some day.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS! SCARY NUMBERS!!!

Speaking of wiping out humanity, as I'm sure you've all heard, the economy is tanking (again), China keeps chastising the US for living outside "its means," or whatever, and Obama is getting even grayer and sad looking. This is all nuts. Luckily, I now make slightly above minimum wage, so everything's dandy. I can totally afford to live in New York City, guys!

I'm still not really clear on how the stock market works, anyway, so I can't be too concerned. Money, schmoney. Living off Easy Mac and bar pretzels is nothing to be ashamed of, right?

I saw one of the L stop rats use its teeth to drag a huge silver watch into a hoarding hole. If there's one New Yorker who knows how to keep afloat when times are rough, it's a subway rat.

I've Never Felt So Close to You Before...

My commute.

Doesn't the New York subway system look glorious? I've always wondered what it felt like to snuggle up to strangers' armpits. Yummmm.

That being sad, nothing in life is more tragic than watching a throng of people exit a subway stop right as you're about to enter it. Especially if you take the L, because then you can look forward to at least 18 minutes of new wait time in the glorified sauna otherwise known as the station platform.

The DC Metro might not be as fast or as convenient, and that single-tracking system they have going on the weekends in absurdity, but man, those stations are nice and breezy.

Hrmph.

Summer in the city. Super fun times.