Your Doorman Knows You Have Herpes

There really is almost nothing that I miss about living in NYC. I swear...I LOVE it here in the BK.

But if I had to either name one thing I missed or get murdered (do you remember when you used to play those assinine games as a kid?), I would have to say that I miss our doormen.

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SLOPE FAMILY MED CTR: THE KING OF MY SHITLIST

No, you'll never walk through that door.  But keep staring at it and maybe it'll start talking.

How was your morning?  Did you enjoy a delicious breakfast sandwich?  A carefree day after snowmageddon commute?  The sweet sound of birds chirping outside your window?  And how was my morning, you ask?  I SPENT TWO AND A HALF HOURS WAITING IN A GERM-INFESTED WAITING ROOM TO SEE A DOCTOR.  WHO ENDED UP PRESCRIBING ME SUDAFED AND IBUPROFEN.

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Bite Me, Michael Pollan

It is my new paranoid theory that Michael Pollan, author of Food Rules, was put here on earth to terrorize me. As if living among  organic-crazed, vegetarian/vegan, work-out obsessed Park Slopers  isn’t enough,  I now have to deal with MP and his highfalutin ideas about what I should or should not eat, drink, or buy splashed across every newspaper and magazine page I turn, and every high-brow talk show I listen to. 

Why in God's name should I or my kids not eat overly processed, genetically engineered food from time to time? If it’s not food, as MP claims, what is it?

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