tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422277334019385782024-03-12T18:19:30.423-04:00Only in New York CityList format blog covering the many amazing, crazy, and horrifying aspects of living in New York City. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-80758886493729059252012-10-01T15:23:00.000-04:002012-10-01T15:23:28.085-04:0044.) Bodega Cats<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GaKHEj5Wc90/UGntcVgcwEI/AAAAAAAAAXU/FnVr6d3tew0/s1600/cat-thumb11018236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GaKHEj5Wc90/UGntcVgcwEI/AAAAAAAAAXU/FnVr6d3tew0/s200/cat-thumb11018236.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
If you don't know what a "bodega" is, they are basically gas stations that don't sell gas. Sometimes called "delis" or "grocery stores," bodegas are everywhere, nearly one per block. They sell snacks, drinks, cigarettes, and sometimes sandwiches.<br />
<br />
One thing that I discovered about bodegas which I found interesting was the presence of a cat in many of them. I don't really know where the cats come from, but it's no uncommon to see one sleeping on a shelf, or rubbing on your leg as you pay. I imagine they are just feral cats that one day wandering in and found a home. They are surprisingly friendly most of the time, and rarely fear humans. <br />
<br />
So, when you go to buy your daily supply of Mountain Dew and Slim-Jims, don't be surprised if you get yourself a feline visitor. <br />
<br />
<i>Written By Joe Lankheet</i><br />
<a href="http://gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank"><b>[Website]</b></a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/joe.lankheet" target="_blank"><b>[Facebook]</b></a><br />
<b><a href="https://twitter.com/jlankheet" target="_blank">[Twitter]</a></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-86359193352710838802012-09-26T21:21:00.001-04:002012-09-26T21:22:36.796-04:0043.) Fleet Week<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_BUuk9yCNpg/UGOqIg9hNZI/AAAAAAAAAXA/eLNRDDVJRXc/s1600/fleet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_BUuk9yCNpg/UGOqIg9hNZI/AAAAAAAAAXA/eLNRDDVJRXc/s200/fleet.jpg" width="198" /></a></div>
Fleet Week, a magical week in late May when every girl and gay man with a uniform fetish gets to enjoy the city suddenly crawling with Marines, Sailors, and Coast Guard... people. A military tradition since 1935, military ships stationed overseas come to NY, dock, and allow a bunch of horny, young men (and women) to roam our fine city.<br />
<br />
Why is this interesting? Because in NYC, it's like Halloween, but sluttier. The gays and gals of New York allow themselves this one week to having meaningless sex with random members of our fine military, with seemingly little remorse. They "claim" they just like getting free drinks from lonely sailors, and "talking" because New York men "lack chivalry," but we all know what you're up to. It's like a straight man saying he goes to a strip club just because strippers are superior conversationalists to average women.<br />
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Anyways, when you decide to get off your thrown of lies, come to NYC and enjoy spending some quality time with the best the U.S. Military has to offer.<br />
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<a href="http://www.cityofsound.com/blog/2007/05/postopolis_day_.html" target="_blank">Image Source </a><br />
<br />
<i>Written By Joe Lankheet </i><br />
<a href="http://gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank"><b>[Website]</b></a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/joe.lankheet" target="_blank"><b>[Facebook]</b></a><br />
<b><a href="https://twitter.com/jlankheet" target="_blank">[Twitter]</a></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-76922841371683434542012-09-24T18:33:00.002-04:002012-09-24T20:48:28.137-04:0042.) Lack Of Children<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OW4VT_xhers/UGDfp9cfLhI/AAAAAAAAAWc/Ux2OQPfdaz8/s1600/F0037305-kids_shouting-SPL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OW4VT_xhers/UGDfp9cfLhI/AAAAAAAAAWc/Ux2OQPfdaz8/s200/F0037305-kids_shouting-SPL.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
A friend and I were discussing this the other day, then I heard another person mention it a few weeks later: there are like no kids in Manhattan! I mean, there are god-damn babies everywhere. The sidewalk is littered with SUV-size strollers. But as soon as children hit the age of about 4, they suddenly disappear, and don't return until they're 15 and fully capable of pestering subway riders.<br />
<br />
I guess it comes down to the city not being a very kid-friendly place. It's loud, chaotic, dirty, and full of drunks and drug addicts. Trust me, Sesame Street is way off (beyond the whole talking puppet part). Even for an adult, the only reason we tolerate most of this shit is for the culture, food, and night-life. Without those things, New York must feel like a hellish nightmare for tiny people just learning how the world works. I mean, obviously there ARE kids in New York, we just can't seem to be able to find them. Their parents must lock them up in their apartments for 11 years after seeing <i>Kids</i>, desperately hoping Harmony Korine got at least some of that wrong. <br />
<br />
So, I really can't answer where the hell they are. Maybe Bloomberg put them to work on the 2nd Avenue line...<br />
<br />
<i>Written By Joe Lankheet</i><br />
<a href="http://gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank"><b>[Website]</b></a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/joe.lankheet" target="_blank"><b>[Facebook]</b></a><br />
<b><a href="https://twitter.com/jlankheet" target="_blank">[Twitter]</a></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-66489891245476552662012-09-21T14:36:00.000-04:002012-09-21T19:37:06.433-04:0041.) Subway Missionaries<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-or3lhmu0jqc/UFu9jGndPYI/AAAAAAAAAWI/1yt7Igqhl0M/s1600/missionaries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-or3lhmu0jqc/UFu9jGndPYI/AAAAAAAAAWI/1yt7Igqhl0M/s200/missionaries.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
One thing that a big city breeds is crazy people, and New York is swimming in them. One of the most enjoyable of the crazy people is the subway missionary. These are people have decided to dedicate their lives to wandering from car to car, yelling about the end of the world. No disrespect to missionaries in general, but I didn't know how else to classify these nut jobs.<br />
<br />
I don't know what it takes for a person to go from "I love Jesus, yes I do. I love Jesus, who 'bout you?" to "the end of the world is near, and you're all burning in hell." I'm sure it has something to do with everyone in New Yorker being one accidental elbow bump away from an emotional breakdown. I guess these subterranean apostles choose bothering commuters as their emotional outlet. I'm sure in their minds they're doing the lord's work, and who am I to argue? But most days I'm just not in the mood to be told I'm going to hell (call me crazy).<br />
<br />
Sometimes they're quiet, and just hand you a pretty, little pamphlet (which is usually splattered in crazy), and sometimes they're in your face with laminated signs, but either way, they will find you, and, God as my witness, they will annoy the hell out of you.<br />
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P.S. Jesus, if you're real, I'm sorry for this article. But do me a favor, and tell these people to knock it off. I'm trying to read.<br />
<br />
**That is an actual picture I took of a guy with laminated signs. I wasn't lying about those. <br />
<br />
<i>Written By Joe Lankheet</i><br />
<a href="http://gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank"><b>[Website]</b></a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/joe.lankheet" target="_blank"><b>[Facebook]</b></a><br />
<b><a href="https://twitter.com/jlankheet" target="_blank">[Twitter]</a></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-27191092955552676062012-09-14T21:59:00.000-04:002012-09-14T21:59:29.024-04:00UpdateHey Guys,<br />
<br />
I'm currently on tour, which leaves me very little free time, so there won't be a new article until next Wednesday, 09/19/12. Sorry, everyone!<br />
<br />
<i>Written By Joe Lankheet</i><br />
<a href="http://gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank"><b>[Website]</b></a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/joe.lankheet" target="_blank"><b>[Facebook]</b></a><br />
<b><a href="https://twitter.com/jlankheet" target="_blank">[Twitter]</a></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-13856963253419085832012-09-12T02:40:00.000-04:002012-09-12T02:42:48.564-04:0040.) We Listen To Your Conversation On The Subway<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OlnU2GykmtQ/UE_5Z8KajNI/AAAAAAAAAS8/hWggYZl8PlM/s1600/subway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OlnU2GykmtQ/UE_5Z8KajNI/AAAAAAAAAS8/hWggYZl8PlM/s200/subway.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Eavesdropping, snooping, spying--call it whatever you want, but if you and your friend are talking loudly on the subway, we're all listening. The subway is a very boring place. A whole bunch of people, sitting uncomfortably close to each other, trying desperately to avoid any eye contact or interaction. We stare at our feet, our bags, or the advertising lining the subway. Advertising is a good bet to pass a little time, but you're going to see the same ads over and over for weeks (does the name Dr. Zizmor ring a bell for anyone?).<br />
<br />
So, when we suddenly notice a loud, distinct conversation, we listen in--not to eavesdrop, per se, but to help pass the time. And sometimes you get lucky, and get to listen to some really interesting stuff. I once spent a whole subway ride, late at night, listening to an off-duty police officer talking to an obviously drunk and homeless man about ways to take care of himself. The homeless man kept getting scared, but the officer would say "I'm not here to bust you! We just talking." It was one of the most fascinating conversations I've ever listened to.<br />
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If you want to discuss sensitive government secret, I wouldn't do it on the subways. But if you have some juicy gossip, or want to bitch about a co-worker, I'm sure there are several straphangers that will appreciate it. <br />
<br />
<i>Written By Joe Lankheet</i><br />
<a href="http://gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank"><b>[Website]</b></a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/joe.lankheet" target="_blank"><b>[Facebook]</b></a><br />
<b><a href="https://twitter.com/jlankheet" target="_blank">[Twitter]</a></b><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.amny.com/urbanite-1.812039/subway-thieves-targeting-sleeping-straphangers-pricey-gadgets-1.3624758" target="_blank">Image Source </a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-10950698052820990512012-09-11T00:16:00.000-04:002012-09-11T00:16:07.179-04:0039.) It Can Be Very Lonely<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FOT8PP_90us/UE1Shjku36I/AAAAAAAAASo/mHAs9gdpbNI/s1600/lonely.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FOT8PP_90us/UE1Shjku36I/AAAAAAAAASo/mHAs9gdpbNI/s200/lonely.jpg" width="197" /></a></div>
Greta Garbo, legendary Swedish film actress, was once asked why she moved to New York City, to which she simply replied "I wanted to be alone." It seems odd that in one of the most densely populated cities in the entire world anyone could ever be alone, but you'd be surprised at how easy it can be. We walk around all day surrounded by millions of people, yet no one talks to us, no one approaches us. If I didn't have a job, roommates, or friends, I could go weeks without speaking to another human being. It can be a very lonely city...<br />
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My theory is that there are so many people that each individual becomes less important. If I rode the subway, and there was only one other person in the car, there would be a connection between us ("hey, we're the only 2 people on here!"), but when the car is full (as it usually is), each individual becomes part of the "crowd"--the nameless, faceless blob surrounding me, indistinguishable and unremarkable. This example is just a microcosm for the whole city. Suddenly, those 8 million other "people" just became wallpaper or set decoration. For anyone to take a moment and get to know you, there really needs to be something stopping them from just walking away.<br />
<br />
So, for you brave adventurers who have decided to move to NYC, prepare yourself to feel like a tiny minnow in a vast, overwhelming ocean. It takes awhile to make friends. <br />
<br />
<i>Written By Joe Lankheet</i><br />
<a href="http://gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank"><b>[Website]</b></a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/joe.lankheet" target="_blank"><b>[Facebook]</b></a><br />
<b><a href="https://twitter.com/jlankheet" target="_blank">[Twitter]</a></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-38635683448430674102012-09-07T13:17:00.001-04:002012-09-07T13:17:22.637-04:0038.) Arlene's Grocery<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M86I_OsS-pg/UEorw-yg_uI/AAAAAAAAASE/JtCxk4ifFh4/s1600/arlenes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M86I_OsS-pg/UEorw-yg_uI/AAAAAAAAASE/JtCxk4ifFh4/s200/arlenes.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Arlene's Grocery (on 95 Stanton St.), otherwise known as the coolest bodega in the Lower East Side, is not actually a grocery store, but a pretty rad rock n' roll joint. And to the regular Arlene's Grocery patron, only two things matter: Monday night at 10 pm, and Friday night at midnight, which are the two times a week when they put on their awesome karaoke show. <br />
<br />
Now, I realize that the words “awesome” and “karaoke” don't often appear in the same sentence together (and rightfully so). The difference between Arlene's karaoke and the other guys is their house band, with a repertoire of hundreds of classic and modern rock songs under their belts. It's one thing to sing something like, say, “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” on a tinny, synthesized karaoke setup, and another thing entirely to have that loud, dirty rock and roll goodness coming out from behind you from a real-life honest-to-goodness rock and roll band.<br />
<br />
There is no judging at karaoke night in Arlene's, and if your singing ability (not to mention your ability to remember lyrics) is a little less than stellar, the band will help you out as you go along. If you're really good, you get a “holy shit!” from the audience, although lately they've been kind of giving everyone courtesy holy shits, for better or worse. If you ever find yourself at Arlene's karaoke, don't decide not to try it because you think you won't do well. I guarantee you there will be at least five other people who go up and sound like absolute garbage, and have a blast doing it (for example, anyone who decides to sing “Love Shack,” ever). Finally, a word of warning: you can be drunk on stage, but don't ever be drunk and stupid, or the band and emcee will show you no mercy.<br />
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And if singing really isn't your thing, it can be surprisingly fun to watch as well. You might catch some of the regulars while you're there, like this one guy who always sings “Dazed and Confused” with his hands in his pockets. Like, literally every time.<br />
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<i>Written By Garrett McMahon</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-1364154878521069002012-09-05T02:48:00.000-04:002012-09-05T16:54:53.960-04:0037.) Gentlemen's Dwelling<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YlN9aKnjHgE/UEV3KCEP-rI/AAAAAAAAARw/0-t3ziLcDk8/s1600/SC1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="113" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YlN9aKnjHgE/UEV3KCEP-rI/AAAAAAAAARw/0-t3ziLcDk8/s200/SC1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Well, the time has come for me to be "that guy." What guy? The guy that uses his immense blogger fame to promote one of this other products.<br />
<br />
Today is the official release of my web series <i>Gentlemen's Dwelling</i>. I've been working on this project for over a year now, and serve as the writer, executive producer, sound designer, and one of the stars. So, as you can see, it's kind of my baby. I love it with all my heart, and I want to share it with all of you!<br />
<br />
Also starring my two best friends, Ben Leasure and Zach Stasz, <i>Gentlemen's Dwelling</i> follows two brothers sharing an apartment together, who invite their socially awkward neighbor to move in with them. The two brothers are constantly at odds, while the new roommate does his best to fully understand what exactly is going on. They find themselves in all sorts of interesting situations, including dating the same girl, having their lives threaten by more than one stranger, being taken hostage, nearly overdosing on prescription medication, and being kidnapped by a crazy bird lady.<br />
<br />
I would love you for eternity if you would watch episode 1 (and every other episode when they come out), and like and comment as much as possible. I'm providing a bunch of links below for you to enjoy. THANK YOU!<br />
<br /><center>
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/qbw9EzzN5cs" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank"><u><b>Website</b></u></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/GentlemensDwelling?ref=hl" target="_blank"><u><b>Facebook Group </b></u></a></div>
<br />
<i>Written By Joe Lankheet</i><br />
<a href="http://gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank"><b>[Website]</b></a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/joe.lankheet" target="_blank"><b>[Facebook]</b></a><br />
<b><a href="https://twitter.com/jlankheet" target="_blank">[Twitter]</a></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-55732457649254395092012-09-03T00:13:00.000-04:002012-09-03T02:49:27.527-04:0036.) Map Seats<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-akT67htlBqc/UEQV3KlJgsI/AAAAAAAAARc/wp62tJuCaU4/s1600/map+seat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-akT67htlBqc/UEQV3KlJgsI/AAAAAAAAARc/wp62tJuCaU4/s200/map+seat.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Every subway car usually has a subway map--a helpful device for finding out how to get where you're going while riding the subway system. These maps are typically located on the wall directly above one of the seats, right about head-level with whomever is sitting there. This often creates an extremely uncomfortable moment when the person sitting in said seat is approached by someone wishing to view the map.<br />
<br />
Here's how it goes down... you're sitting in your seat, minding your own business. Suddenly, you notice some stranger awkwardly staring at you, who then makes a B-line towards your current location. Panic kicks in, and you prepare yourself to be accosted by some random maniac. They continue to approach, reaching a position somewhere between your knees and your groin, when they suddenly stop and stare at something a few inches from your head. At this moment, you realize you're sitting in front of a subway map, and they are merely trying to figure out where to get off. Situation resolved!<br />
<br />
Not so fast! This situation has reached it's pinnacle of awkwardness. For the next minute or so, this stranger will stand uncomfortably close to you, and stare at this map for what will seem like millenniums, completely obliterating your sense of person space. And you, having to pretend to be a conscientious and accommodating person, will act as if nothing unusual is happening as you silently beg God to either kill you or the person currently straddling your leg. <br />
<br />
And then, they will walk away, and you can go back to hating that asshole clipping his fingernails. <br />
<br />
<i>Written By Joe Lankheet</i><br />
<a href="http://gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank"><b>[Website]</b></a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/joe.lankheet" target="_blank"><b>[Facebook]</b></a><br />
<b><a href="https://twitter.com/jlankheet" target="_blank">[Twitter]</a></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-43448371526424229702012-08-31T00:08:00.000-04:002012-09-01T18:52:23.428-04:0035.) Empty Fridges<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GtCk2K8oTys/UD76lPES0qI/AAAAAAAAAQk/OSEeikJBbrE/s1600/empty+fridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GtCk2K8oTys/UD76lPES0qI/AAAAAAAAAQk/OSEeikJBbrE/s200/empty+fridge.jpg" width="143" /></a></div>
The other day, I was sitting with a group of people--all different ages, occupations, genders, and sexual orientation--and we were discussing what we had in our fridges. Well, the conversation got pretty stale as the general consensus was "nothing." Now, I thought I was some kind of freak for not having food in my fridge, but I was happy to find out I wasn't alone. New Yorkers don't store up food.<br />
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Of course, this is a generalization. Many citizens of NYC do keep their fridge full of food, but there is also a large group of us that don't. You want to know why? Because New York has over 24,000 restaurants, and if you have a bunch of food in your apartment, you're going to eat that instead of going out and finding a new place to eat. People here love discovering new bars, restaurants, and delis. We thrive on those moments when we get to recommend some amazing place that our friends have never heard of. Even if we're not going somewhere new, it's just convenient as hell to get food from a place, rather then making it at home. We all live very busy, stressful lives, and making time to cook often doesn't fit in that schedule.<br />
<br />
So, if you're visiting someone from New York, don't expect dinner to be waiting on the top shelf of the fridge, but there's this amazing sushi place right around the corner that makes the BEST blah blah blah.
<br />
<br />
<i>Written By Joe Lankheet</i><br />
<a href="http://gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank"><b>[Website]</b></a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/joe.lankheet" target="_blank"><b>[Facebook]</b></a><br />
<b><a href="https://twitter.com/jlankheet" target="_blank">[Twitter]</a></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-74309539498184591362012-08-29T00:32:00.000-04:002012-09-01T18:52:48.356-04:0034.) Fresh Air Disease <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ElvVve67aYQ/UD2bKropcXI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/tgrQGy2hlJQ/s1600/fresh+air.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ElvVve67aYQ/UD2bKropcXI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/tgrQGy2hlJQ/s200/fresh+air.jpg" width="191" /></a></div>
With all the cars, buildings, factories, and what-not, air pollution in NYC is some of the worst in the country. New York City (Manhattan) has the 3rd highest cancer risk caused by airborne chemicals of all counties in the United States (this entire sentence was copy and pasted from Wikipedia, except this part).<br />
<br />
So, you'd think we'd all be wandering about, coughing and wheezing, barely able to breathe. But there is an odd phenomenon that myself and my esteemed colleague Brooke Elsinghorst have discovered (hey, Brooke! You're in my blog). Every time either one of us leaves the city, we get sick. Not death-bed sick, but colds and sniffles. When we come back from the city, we're fine. Now, we're not scientists (though, Brooke has done extensive research on serial killers, which hardly helps in this instance, but is mildly weird, right?), but the evidence is pretty conclusive: New Yorkers become so accustomed to polluted air, that when we encounter fresh air, it makes us sick.<br />
<br />
Now, I'm sure the EPA is going to see this and want to do all types of research into the matter, but I'll save them some time and just say "trust me. I'm like 99% sure this is a real thing." Matter settled.
<br />
<br />
<i>Written By Joe Lankheet</i><br />
<a href="http://gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank"><b>[Website]</b></a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/joe.lankheet" target="_blank"><b>[Facebook]</b></a><br />
<b><a href="https://twitter.com/jlankheet" target="_blank">[Twitter]</a></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-3931504940601605232012-08-27T00:44:00.000-04:002012-09-01T18:53:16.129-04:0033.) Emergency Exits<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FtS_bHC8C5c/UDlwH7KlfrI/AAAAAAAAAP8/O6mr-LcyQ0A/s1600/emergency+exits.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="145" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FtS_bHC8C5c/UDlwH7KlfrI/AAAAAAAAAP8/O6mr-LcyQ0A/s200/emergency+exits.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
To exit the subway, one must go through a turnstile. They are simple enough devices - if you need to exit, just walk through, and the metal bar will rotate forward, allowing you to exit. Millions of people do it every single day with absolutely no issue. Next to these turnstiles, the smart people at the MTA have added "emergency" exits, in case of an EMERGENCY, so large groups could exit quickly and efficiently. When an emergency exit is opened, it activates a loud ringing alarm to notify everyone of the emergency. This all seems pretty straight forward, right? You all have a good idea of what exit you would use given any circumstance? Non-emergency: the turnstile. Emergency: the emergency exit. Good. <br />
<br />
I'm glad my readers are so intelligent and understand this simple concept, because there's a whole bunch of fucking lunatics that seem to be extremely confused on how all this works. They think "God, I couldn't possibly deal with a regular turnstile. I think I'll set off an ear-piercing alarm in order to avoid those unbearably complicated devices." Once one lunatic goes through the emergency exit, suddenly every other lunatic has license to use it as well, because "hey, I didn't set it off, but since it's already open, why not take advantage of the nanosecond of time I save going through it? I'm the only person on Earth. No one else is being subjugated to this deafening alarm." Once through, they continue on with their day, completely unaware of all the innocent people standing nearby that now have substantial hearing loss. Lucky for those individuals, there is a train coming, which probably has very well-oiled and perfectly silent brakes.<br />
<br />
I'm not sounding too jaded, am I?
<br />
<br />
<i>Written By Joe Lankheet</i><br />
<a href="http://gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank"><b>[Website]</b></a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/joe.lankheet" target="_blank"><b>[Facebook]</b></a><br />
<b><a href="https://twitter.com/jlankheet" target="_blank">[Twitter]</a></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-33041748277223543122012-08-24T21:04:00.000-04:002012-08-24T21:08:35.888-04:0032.) Diamond District Prospector<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HpraChE23WM/UDaxGlUccpI/AAAAAAAAAPo/Egwu5iI85Y0/s1600/diamond.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HpraChE23WM/UDaxGlUccpI/AAAAAAAAAPo/Egwu5iI85Y0/s200/diamond.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Many immigrants coming to America believed the streets here were "paved with gold." Unfortunately, that's not true... well, sort of. One man, Raffi Stepanian, discovered that the streets in New York City's Diamond District are somewhat paved with gold (and diamonds, gems, rubies, and platinum), if by paved you mean laying in the cracks of the pavement.<br />
<br />
One day, Raffi realized that with the thousands of jewelry dealers and buyers walking up and down the streets of the Diamond District, at some point diamonds/gold/gems must fall off of people's clothing or get stuck under their shoes. So, he decided to go digging around in the cracks on the sidewalk. And what did he found? A shit-ton of the stuff - enough to make more than $100 a day. And unlike real prospecting, these diamonds are already cut and polished. All he has to do is sell them.<br />
<br />
So, this obviously isn't making him rich, and he has to crawl around on his hands and knees on sidewalks that are less than pristine, but you have to give the guy credit for thinking up a pretty ingenious way to make money. <br />
<br />
<i>By Joe Lankheet</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-78976877245089958392012-08-22T18:19:00.001-04:002012-08-22T21:37:51.176-04:0031.) Harlem Is Not A Borough <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eLCCiL9tUUk/UDVaQh9PKwI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/iV3lr4n3XOk/s1600/201108_nike3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eLCCiL9tUUk/UDVaQh9PKwI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/iV3lr4n3XOk/s200/201108_nike3.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Anyone from New York will probably scoff at this one, but you'd be surprised how many people think Harlem is one of the 5 boroughs. If you wondering whom these "people" are, look no further than the fine employees of Nike. Last year, Nike released the "Boro" collection of Air Force Ones, one for each of the boroughs. But apparently none of the people working there know how to use Google because they released only 4 shoes, one of which was Harlem (they forgot that Staten Island is a borough, but that's an easy mistake to make). <br />
<br />
For anyone still confused, Harlem is a neighborhood (well, technically two) in Upper Manhattan, not it's own borough. The 5 boroughs are Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, The Bronx, and Staten Island. I'm not sure where the confusion on this one started, but I can only guess it's because Harlem is mentioned so many times in popular culture. It is one of the most famous neighborhoods in New York City (they even have their own life-long undefeated basketball team).<br />
<br />
So, whatever you do, don't call Harlem a borough if you're ever in NYC. If you forget about Staten Island, we usually let that slide.<br />
<br />
<i>By Joe Lankheet </i><br />
<a href="https://twitter.com/jlankheet" target="_blank">Twitter</a><br />
<a href="http://www.gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank">Facebook</a><br />
<a href="http://www.gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank">Website </a><i><br /></i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-91686089522675825772012-08-20T18:19:00.001-04:002012-08-20T18:19:32.317-04:0030.) Times Square<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u4O8b3zj61M/UDK3khcF2tI/AAAAAAAAAO8/dzgLR6v_ocs/s1600/TimeSquare.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u4O8b3zj61M/UDK3khcF2tI/AAAAAAAAAO8/dzgLR6v_ocs/s200/TimeSquare.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Times Square, affectionately known as the <i>Crossroads of the World</i> (though I would have thought that would be somewhere in the mid-Atlantic), is an area in Midtown Manhattan known for bright lights, a giant slow-descending ball, and a nauseating amount of tourists (the #1 tourist destination in the entire country, in case you were wondering). If you've never been, it's one of the most wonderful, fascinating places in the whole world... for about 10 minutes. After that, it suddenly becomes a giant, tangible example of American consumerism (I actually love consumerism, but here, it's kind of just disgusting). <br />
<br />
Yes, it is remarkable that you could almost get a suntan at 3AM because of all the lights, but when you really think about, it's just a giant pile of corporate vomit, the wet dream of every marketing director in the world. It's a place completely devoid of soul or culture. Sure, it's the center of the theatre world, but what are "The Lion King" and "Spider-man" if not corporate money-vacuums? Look up Times Square sometime, and you will notice that listed under "Notable Landmarks" are such gems as The M&M Store, Forever 21, and the Coca-Cola Sign.<br />
<br />
So, what is Times Square really? About 15 square blocks of blinking signs, confused people, trash, homeless, smelly hot dog carts, chain restaurants, and people trying to scam you. It is extremely unpleasant to be in for more than a couple minutes. And for some God damn reason, it's where every fucking tourist wants to go to "experience New York City." Shoot me.<br />
<br />
<i>By Joe Lankheet </i><br />
<a href="https://twitter.com/jlankheet" target="_blank">Twitter</a><br />
<a href="http://www.gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank">Facebook</a><br />
<a href="http://www.gentlemensdwelling.com/" target="_blank">Website </a><i><br /></i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-91829945265717379752012-08-17T18:27:00.001-04:002012-08-17T18:27:20.932-04:0029.) You'll Never Work In A Restaurant<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DE4pCQaiisQ/UC7FKybIfVI/AAAAAAAAAOk/mmoKB3LSCN8/s1600/restaurant.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DE4pCQaiisQ/UC7FKybIfVI/AAAAAAAAAOk/mmoKB3LSCN8/s200/restaurant.jpg" width="149" /></a></div>
You know the old cliché where the young guy or girl steps off the bus with suitcases in hand, and then they ask themselves “where in this great big city am I ever going to find a job?” Then they walk into a seedy bar, where the ancient, crusty owner gives them a dirty look and says, “here's a shaker, you're hired.”<br />
<br />
Well, folks, that sure as hell never happened in New York City. All of the city's servers, bartenders, cooks, and busboys belong to a prestigious group of individuals with “experience in a high volume NYC bar or restaurant.” Most places (and by that I suppose I mean all places) that are looking to hire new employees require people to have anywhere from a year to five or more years of experience in strictly New York City establishments. So if you're thinking of moving to the Big Apple after finally ending your long tenure as a shift leader at the Dairy Queen in Dubuque, and expecting that surely one of the over one hundred thousand bars and restaurants in the city will let you either carry plates of food to tables or pour alcohol into glasses, you might want to think again. <br />
<br />
While this unofficial policy might perhaps make sense with the more glamorous jobs like bartenders or servers (“glamorous” being used fairly loosely in this case, perhaps “tip-driven” is a better term), it also rather absurdly applies to the very unglamorous ones as well. I once saw a craigslist ad for a dishwasher job (minimum wage, mind you), requiring three years of dishwashing experience in a high-volume NY restaurant. Apparently, dishes in the five boroughs get soaked and covered in soap suds in a way entirely unique from dishes all around the world, subtle details that only a seasoned, real-Brooklyn-style dishwashing pro can pick up on. Also, apparently that restaurant owner has never worked a dishwashing shift at Yesterday's Royal in Sylvan Beach, NY by himself on a Tuesday night, otherwise known as Dinner Theater night (not that I'm bitter about it or anything).<br />
<br />
So remember, before you go out there and look for your first job in the great New York City food industry, you might want to try and get at least one year of experience in a high-volume New York City restaurant first.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>By Garrett McMahon</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-5301184788978150012012-08-15T16:06:00.000-04:002012-08-15T16:06:36.182-04:0028.) Ninja New York<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UGdNMGxypbA/UCsh1fgigqI/AAAAAAAAAM4/7n6lL1qXJVY/s1600/ninja.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UGdNMGxypbA/UCsh1fgigqI/AAAAAAAAAM4/7n6lL1qXJVY/s200/ninja.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Quick! Name one themed restaurant you absolutely LOVE... I'll give you a minute. <br />
<br />
Well, here's one you may like: Ninja New York. Not to be outdone by the likes of Johnny Rocket's and Medievel Times, Ninja New York decided to take classic Japanese dining and give it a twist: have dudes dressed as ninjas pop out and scare patrons. Now, I've never been there, because I'm poor and don't enjoy eating Japanese food while being startled (I know, I'm weird), but everyone seems to love this place. Why? I have no God damn idea.<br />
<br />
You're looking to pay about $50 - $75 per person for dinner, there are ninjas constantly jumping out of nowhere and scaring you, and magicians come to your table and perform tricks, like an adult Chuck E. Cheese. I find it to be a classic tourist trap, as no New Yorker would ever call this "their place." We like our places laid-back, interesting, and lacking in Ninjas.<br />
<br />
<i>By Joe Lankheet</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-19690320312221668602012-08-13T23:48:00.001-04:002012-08-13T23:49:00.567-04:0027.) We Value Our Space<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LfLZ4VKsZrk/UCnKjw8L5SI/AAAAAAAAAMk/eDDdeLVijDA/s1600/personal+space.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LfLZ4VKsZrk/UCnKjw8L5SI/AAAAAAAAAMk/eDDdeLVijDA/s200/personal+space.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
"You don't know what you have until it's gone." This tragic cliche applies very well to NYC. I don't think people truly appreciate personal space, and really, why should they? Practically anywhere else in the world, personal space is in abundance. But when you put 8 million people on 468 square miles of land, suddenly that space disappears (in case you're wondering, that's 0.0000585 square miles per person). <br />
<br />
So, how do we compensate? Make everything smaller. The first thing to go is bathroom space. Why the bathroom? My only theory is that it's the one room we spend the least amount of time in. In my shower at my apartment, I don't even have enough room to stand completely straight forward. I have to stand slightly askew, or else my shoulders get jammed up against the sides. At my old apartment, you had to put the toilet seat up just to shut the door. <br />
<br />
As you can see, New Yorkers value any space we can find. I was riding the subway the other day, which wasn't very crowded, when a very attractive woman boarded and proceeded to basically stand right in the gap between my legs. With every bump of the train, she would press up against my thighs. In all other circumstances, I think any man would love exactly what was happening to me, but, in all honesty, I was just pissed off. Does she have serious boundary issues? Why can't she just stand where there's plenty of space. Is she just stupid? It exemplified fairly well every New Yorkers need for every small amount of space they can get.<br />
<br />
<i>By Joe Lankheet</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-43807188035149362932012-08-10T17:57:00.000-04:002012-08-10T18:02:26.143-04:0026.) Subway Platforms Are Unbearable During The Summer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JnEuYZOoHec/UCWDrZSGUGI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/vu5zhW0gwAg/s1600/unbearable.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JnEuYZOoHec/UCWDrZSGUGI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/vu5zhW0gwAg/s200/unbearable.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Whenever I complain about how hot it gets in the city, I consistently am one-upped by someone from somewhere else. "Yeah? Well, in [insert place], it's like a 105 degrees!" True, but in [insert place] do you spend a significant amount of your time in a giant humidor? <br />
<br />
That's exactly what a NYC subway platform feels like - a giant, underground humidor, if humidors were filled with rats and sweaty homeless people. Platforms are far underground, devoid of any fresh or moving air. They're also disgustingly dank, and when the heat hits, that disgusting subway water/rat piss becomes sticky, wet humidity. In more popular stations, you're surrounded by thousands of other sweaty people, all exuding their own personal heat.<br />
<br />
No one's happy. We all stare at each other with disdain for existing and creating more heat. It's extremely unpleasant, but you have no option but to just stand there, completely still, desperately waiting for that big, beautiful subterranean rickshaw to come to your rescue. Once aboard, everything will be just fine and dandy - that is, until some psychopath starts <a href="http://1000thingsnyc.blogspot.com/2012/08/24-subway-has-rules.html">CLIPPING HIS GODDAMN NAILS!</a><br />
<br />
<i>By Joe Lankheet</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-26985688793758512302012-08-08T11:22:00.000-04:002012-08-08T11:22:32.553-04:0025.) Cat Calls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ClqlHoWzib0/UB3H8ES2bWI/AAAAAAAAALo/jPRjVQyUjVY/s1600/cat+call.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ClqlHoWzib0/UB3H8ES2bWI/AAAAAAAAALo/jPRjVQyUjVY/s200/cat+call.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>
One of the wonderful things that young, attractive women have to look forward to in NYC is cat calling. Luckily, it isn't everywhere you go, but ask any woman living in one of the "less fabulous" neighborhoods, and they will tell you it happens all the time. Fortunately for me, I am an over-weight, white man living in Washington Heights, so this rarely happens to me, but it's definitely a part of New York culture.<br />
<br />
Urban Dictionary defines a cat call as "Stereotypical whistle in which a male uses to convey his pleasure he has
undergone simply from glimpsing upon an attract female visage. Usually
leads to sexual intercourse." Beyond the poor grammar and false assumption that this in any way leads to sexual intercourse, you get the picture. Many people have gone to great lengths to fully understand and teach the fine art of seduction, and nowhere in those findings would cat calling be described as "usually, or ever effective."<br />
<br />
So ladies, just prepare yourself. It's going to happen. Just get yourself a good pair of noise-cancelling headphones, and you'll be none the wiser.<br />
<br />
<i>By Joe Lankheet </i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-81012602158573830262012-08-06T16:46:00.001-04:002012-08-06T16:46:36.251-04:0024.) The Subway Has Rules<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pIZH3glNdHM/UB3QybeyExI/AAAAAAAAAL8/r1s_U_LXOR8/s1600/subway+has+rules.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pIZH3glNdHM/UB3QybeyExI/AAAAAAAAAL8/r1s_U_LXOR8/s200/subway+has+rules.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>
By far, my most popular post has been "The Sidewalk Has Rules." Apparently, fans of this site really enjoy rules, and appreciate me spelling them out. So, here we go again. More rules.<br />
<br />
The subway, for those of you not living in NYC, is like your wonderful family car, except instead of your friends and family riding along with you, there are hundreds of strangers. And for just this reason, a few unwritten rules must be followed.<br />
<br />
First, don't hold the doors. The entire subway system does not need to be delayed because you just HAD to get a second hot dog on the way. Don't stand in front of the doors, either. I know you've found just the perfect spot for you to stand, but other people ride the train besides you. For those of you trying to board the train, let people off before you get on. It's simple physics - no two things can occupy the same space. Once aboard, space yourselves out, for God's sake. This city is cramped enough as it is. If the opportunity arises, allow yourself the luxury of a little personal space. If you're forced to stand, hold the fuck on. I've had more elderly, Chinese women in my lap than I care to count. Lastly, show some respect for the other people aboard. Turn your music down (no one cares what you're listening to), don't take up more than one seat (you'll survive holding your purse for 20 minutes), take a shower before you ride (conversely, too much perfume is just as annoying), don't stare at people (we notice), and for God-fucking-sake DON'T CLIP YOUR NAILS (you're a vile human-being. I shouldn't even have to be saying this).<br />
<br />
These rules should help you to not be universally hated by a large group of people. Enjoy! <br />
<br />
<i>By Joe Lankheet</i><br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-42055326500478384422012-08-03T19:17:00.001-04:002012-08-03T19:17:35.805-04:0023.) It's Easy To Avoid Crime - If You Keep Your Senses<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9L1_J6IIw_Q/UBxb_pnPIkI/AAAAAAAAALQ/br9j-wT7_TM/s1600/crime.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9L1_J6IIw_Q/UBxb_pnPIkI/AAAAAAAAALQ/br9j-wT7_TM/s200/crime.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
I, like many people, moved here to the city with plenty of
warnings about the high crime rate. I
thought it was funny, since I moved here over a year ago from Los Angeles County,
which, last I checked, wasn’t shirking in home-grown thievery and death.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Look, it’s a big city.
You will have friends who get mugged, or have things stolen from them.
You may even end up a victim of crime.
But here’s how to avoid as much of it as you can. Here’s my one big tip for anyone- tourist or
new citizen to this island:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Keep your senses.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What does that mean?
Along with the five basic ones, I also mean common sense. If it’s late at night, and you’re waiting for
a subway car, and you’re all by yourself, walk over to where there’s more
people. Don’t explore neighborhoods you
don’t know by yourself at night. Don’t
wear headphones above ground – take them off immediately after getting off the
subway. Your white little buds are just
a calling card for people who want to snatch Iphones or mug you. And, you being distracted by music doesn’t
help. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lastly, keeping your senses deals with the cold, hard fact
that this is a very public city. Unless you are in your apartment cowering
under the covers with the shades drawn, in the dark, you can not hide. This
means, if you or your friends are angry, sad, drunk – any garden variety of
strong emotion, protect yourself so you’re not targeted for crime. And, on the flip side, use your senses to
determine who around you is having very strong emotions so you know if you need
to step out of the way or choose another subway car. <br />
<br />
<i>By Jara Michael Jones </i></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-19404579298481956682012-08-01T02:09:00.001-04:002012-08-01T02:09:59.499-04:0022.) Wild Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IGQMus2PU38/UBdsOQPK8JI/AAAAAAAAAKg/DgGrU18XSHo/s1600/wildlife.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IGQMus2PU38/UBdsOQPK8JI/AAAAAAAAAKg/DgGrU18XSHo/s200/wildlife.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
For some mysterious reason, Blue Planet never did a segment on the wildlife of NYC. We have such an amazing, diverse ecosystem of wildlife, it's a crime no one's explored this vast and dynamic ecological community.<br />
<br />
Here is a breakdown of the 4 major wildlife groups:<br />
<b>1.) Cockroaches:</b> These amazing creatures are virtually unkillable (not a real word, but most fitting). I once had a cockroach stuck on a glue trap that didn't die for over a week. It probably could have lived longer, but I crushed it with a napkin. Mostly found in kitchens and bathrooms, not even the cockroach-designed Raid makes so much as a dent in their population. Such resilience! <br />
<b>2.) Rats/Mice</b>: The great NYC mammals. These cute, cuddly little creatures are a wonderful find in trash bins and subways throughout the city. Not only do they carry disease and shit on everything, they also chew on virtually everything. They tend to avoid humans, so catching and petting them is a rare, but exhilarating experience.<br />
<b> 3.) Bed Bugs</b>: These barely visible little fellas are just such a delight for anyone looking to be a social pariah at work, or with friends and family. They also make wonderful cuddle-buddies for those whom prefer not to sleep alone. If you're not a fan of these tiny parasites, they can be easily eradicated by throwing out everything you own.<br />
<b>4.) Pigeons</b>: The majestic New York wildfowl! Known for their incredible ability to shit on people and eat pieces of bread thrown at them, pigeons are the Bald Eagle of New York City. For the avid bird-watcher, get your binoculars ready anytime you find yourself near a power-line or building with protruding edges.<br />
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Consider yourself educated!<br />
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<i>By Joe Lankheet</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-342227733401938578.post-36754366749674645692012-07-31T01:53:00.002-04:002012-07-31T01:53:37.117-04:00UpdateHey everyone!<br />
<br />
So, a couple updates regarding this blog:<br />
1.) The name has changed! I felt "1,000 Things You May Not Know About New York City" was too long. The name has been changed to "Only In New York City." The content of the site will not change, just the name, I promise!<br />
2.) The blog will now be updated Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I got a little excited when I started this blog, and thought I could update it daily, but this has become too much for me and is affecting the quality of each post. I want to make sure each post is as entertaining, informative, and hilarious as possible, which I believe the change will certainly do.<br />
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Thanks for bearing with this ever-evolving blog!<br />
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-Joe LankheetAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15032716385097573301noreply@blogger.com0