Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Dear NYC,

Do you read 'shit' when you see the words 'shall' and 'sit' next to one another?

I don't either.

Un Beso,
The Woobs

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Dear NYC,

I'm starting to notice that the heavy shadows of the sun are running down the thighs of your buildings earlier now. Can you hear Fall's expanding applause for Summer's encore? I can.

The Woobs

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Dear NYC,

I was searching through my hard drive and found this IM conversation we had back when I was in college.

thewoobs14: duuuuudeeee
yo'nyc: hey whassup?
thewoobs14: not much, just working on a paper for Sister Fat's class.
yo'nyc: hey! she is a nun-be nice. i hope you haven't called her that in front of anyone else.
thewoobs14: maybe i have, maybe i haven't. but honestly, she has been put on this earth to terrorize my hard work. she wrote 'awk' at the top of one of my papers. she couldn't even write the full word 'awkward'. that's a jerk-move.
yo'nyc: no excuse.
thewoobs14: whatev. anyway, do you know how badly i wish i could get my pants to stay up when i belt them directly below my butt? they constantly fall down.
yo'nyc: it's an art. only some of us can master :o)
thewoobs14: do i have to adjust my walk? i've tried everything!!
yo'nyc: the answer will be revealed to you when you are ready, young scribe.
thewoobs14: knock knock
yo'nyc: who's there?
thewoobs14: you're an asshole :oP

You haven't changed one bit, NYC and I love ya for it.

The Woobs

Friday, August 8, 2008

Dear NYC,

I have a special place in my heart for the middle-American Abercrombie kids, who flock to your main tourist attractions. They're so wonderfully coordinated. Where do you a get a hemp necklace these days, anyway?

Much love,
The Woobs

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Dear NYC,

Hey Pal. I woke up feeling a little crummy this morning and have been dragging those crumbs around with me all day. I'm overwhelmed with the realization that with each passing day, I'm more of a spectator than a participant of things that inspire me. At the same time, I am more of a participant in the things that make me feel incomplete. I can't be specific or explain what that even means. I just know I hate days like this.

I have this fantasy wherein each day I paint the bottoms of my shoes a different color, so that over time my footsteps route a map on your surface. My expectation and my fear are a conundrum; that the colors would layer themselves to black, each footfall the same as the day before.

Keeping it real,
The Woobs