Get To Know Your FiPS Writers: Justin & Mike

Ever read a great FiPS post and think to yourself, Hot damn. I'm in lurrrve with this writer (see also: I fucking haaaate this writer). Well for the next few months we're going to give you an insight into the writing staff here at FiPS. Contributors were paired together and asked to come up with some burning questions for each other so that you guys can learn a little more about the minds behind this FiPS-tastic blog. Because when it comes down to it, we're fucked in Park Slope JUST LIKE THE REST OF YOU SUCKERS. 

So far we've given you ERICA & URSULA and Ben & Jess. Next up: Justin and Mike!

If and when you decide to prostitute yourself for rent money in this economy, what feature, physical or personality, will you highlight to bring in the most money?

Justin: I've been told I have a nice butt. So yeah. We'll go with that. 

Mike: Just a fantastic set of nostrils. 

Which Metallica song best describes your writing philosophy and why?

Justin: I'm going to go with "Whiplash" on this one cause I usually thrash around a lot when I write.  

Mike: "Kill 'em All." All the rule of grammars. And splellign. 

What is the highest you have ever been? Interpret that question as you will.

Justin:  40,000 feet. I was on a flight to Chicago and it just so happened that former New Jersey Governor, John Corzine was on board with me. Mid-flight there was this awful, like find-God-quick grade turbulence. So the captain came on and said he was breaking regulations and going up to 40,000 feet where it was a less bumpy ride. I am convinced this was for the Honorable Mr. Corzine's benefit. 

Mike: Well, I have been on an airplane. But on land, it was on top of a (dead) volcano in Central America, in a leaky tent, next to a delirious, altitude-sick friend, who spent the whole night praying to Jesus. I will always regret not playing the role of Lord and Savior to his barely coherent mind. 

Also, I may or may not have been convinced once that all water was hydrogen peroxide that would dissolve my face.

If you could knife any Kardashian, which one would it be and why?

Justin: I would say Gul Dukot cause he was so nasty to all those Bajorans and he always gave Commander Cisco such a hard time on Deep Space Nine. 

Mike: My Kardashian knowledge is limited to vaguely knowing that one of them reputedly has an amazing ass and one of them is married to (Lakers forward) Lamar Odom. The world needs more amazing asses and fewer Lakers championships, so I'll kill the NBA wife. 

If you were a hot dog and you were starving? Would you eat yourself? 

Justin: I know I would. 

Mike: If I were a hot dog, I would eat myself even if I weren't starving, even if I'd just eaten several other hot dogs, even if said hot dogs were my closest friends and family. I'm really hungry right now.

Describe a Park Slope mental meltdown you had in public. Where was it? Where you incarcerated? 

Justin: It was at Tea Lounge (the Union Street location). I ordered a tea sparkler (iced tea with seltzer). Some tragically thin hipster barista refused to put the splenda I asked for in said sparkler. He said with full-blown attitude: "Have you ever had one of these before?" I said very nicely, that I had. "And you want it with Splenda?" Again with the attitude. I said very very nicely, that I did. "Have you had one of these with Splenda before?" This Socratically inspired dialogue had reached my last nerve. " Yes and I love it!"

He curled his lip and the hairs on the my back of neck stood up straight. It was on! He further  fleshed out my wrath when he said: "Well I think that's disgusting." So like any mature adult I said in my best outside voice: "WHO GIVES A FLYING F*CK WHAT YOU THINK?" and turned to the girl waiting in line behind me and said: "Do you care what he thinks about my tea sparkler?" I think she passed out or something. After a few more choice words, I walked out In hindsight, one could say I overreacted. but he really was a little bitch. Thankfully he doesn't work there anymore and no police were involved.  

Mike: More frequently than I'd like to admit, I find myself shouting into the open windows of trucks that come at me too fast as I'm walking across an intersection, with the right of way. Then they make threats at me in bad English and I suggest they perform certain acts on themselves. I should stop doing this. But I have right of way!