Friday, April 25


somewhere along the line, an old, manic street preacher entered the train. maybe utica avenue? it's difficult to tell, i had my headphones on, as is my normal early morning "thing." he's shouting the normal schtick at the top of his lungs: snakes coming out of skulls, fire and brimstone, lizard jesuses with lasers shooting out of their eyes. things you're familiar with if you've ever gone to mass! it's pretty easily ignorable, standard fare, is my point.

until suddenly he becomes even louder than before. "it's sunny and 75/it feels so good to be alive/BETTY BOOP WAS A STRIPPER! A STRIPPER!" is what i'm hearing now (special note to noted fan of my writing, d.c. berman: please change the lyrics of your song accordingly). with all apologies to the silver jews, you're all very good at your jobs, but none of you are a very animated shrieking man standing in front of me having a furious discussion with himself as to the whoredom of betty boop and its effect on the children. the music was turned off for a good ten minutes while he accused ms. boop of going to military bases and stripping for soldiers, not even for money but because she was a terrible person.

unfortunately, he returned to the whole maggots crawling out of orifices thing and didn't mention cartoons again. so i turned back on my music and went about my business.

the next i heard him was either w4 or 14th, where he got off*. he announced, in the same pitch that he was shrieking about betty, "forget you all! i have to go to class," and really it was in that moment that i first questioned my decision to not apply to nyu.

* i'm very slightly hungover this morning so i just didn't have it in me to care if it was w4 or 14th.

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