Dear NYC,

Oh..my dear friend, I'm sorry so much time has passed since I last wrote. Since then, I have chased balls around a tennis court and celebrated the beginning of my 29th year on this planet. I got your e-card..it was cute, thanks!

Anyway, I have a few ideas for the next MTA campaign promotion and I want to run them by you. They're in the same school of thought as 'if you see something, say something'. Here they are:

'If you see someone standing up and reading a newspaper or a book on a uncomfortably crowded train (one so crowded that you(I) cannot even lift your(my) hand to scratch your(my) nose), biff him/her'

OR, for the audience of people lucky enough to be a seated on such a train, this:

'Get your butt off my shoulder'

Abrazos fuerte,
The Woobs

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

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

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

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

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

Dear NYC,

Absolute Truth: I have never pressed an elevator button that has already been pressed.

Motherfuckers, do you think the elevator will arrive sooner because you hit the button two times in rapid succession? I just hit the button, and you saw me do it. Why would you press it again? And you couldn't even look at me! You may as well leave a horse-head in my bed or pants me in front of my sixth grade gym class. Coward.


The Woobs