Go Busk Yourself

Listen up, Park Slope: it's bad enough that everyone thinks we're elitist douchebags with our expensive apartments, stroller mafia, celebrity residents, and "best neighborhood in new york" bragging rights. The least we could do to keep people off our backs is show a little bit of humility when it comes to our subway buskers. But nooooo...we don't have any disgusting, toothless, barefoot homeless guys strumming a guitar, or trios of doo-wop singers who haven't bathed in weeks...or even some crazy person dressed up in an Elmo costume playing the accordion. Nope, Park Slope gets this guy above.

That's Right. Some well-to-do motherfucker playing the glockenspiel. 

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THANK GOD: A NEW SUBWAY MAP

The New York Times is reporting that the MTA will unveil a new map next month, the first in over a decade.  On the long list of things the MTA needs to do to prevent the angry citizenry from firebombing it, I doubt a slightly redesigned map makes an appearance.  How about you get a hold of the track fires before you focus your attention on making the maps more vibrant and colorful?

But, oh man, do I love that new cerulean blue water!  It calls to mind the Carribbean more than any dirty waterway around here, which I guess will help to make all of the Jamaican conductors feel more at home (racist?).

Ev'ry ting's irie, mon!

Endangered Species Watch: MTA Buses

I can't remember the last time I rode the bus regularly (probably the 104 and 86th street crosstown circa 1978) but I'm going to miss you anyway, MTA buses. Is this a sign of progress or armageddon? Not sure but it's a little unnerving to pass these signs on every block. 

This Weekend: The F Takes Its Hatred for Me Out on You

Curious, you don't look much like a train to me.

Because I've somehow become the default bearer of F train (bad/gross/sexy/mostly gross) news, here's a HAPPY FUCKING FRIDAY announcement for you.

Tonight at 11:30 through the rest of the weekend, we're back to shuttle busses between Jay Street and Church Ave.  Transportation alternatives include Bugaboos, go-karts and dimensional teleportation.  I'll be too busy picking out the perfect shade of lilac for my bathroom walls and working on the teeny-weeny particle accelerator project I have going on in my garden to leave Brooklyn anyway, but I figured the rest of you might want a heads up.

I realize this affects the G train, too.  But since the G train is a mere figment of our collective imaginations, this is all of the acknowledgement it will get (also considering "You're still screwed" is no news, anyway).

This Is What Happens on the F Train

I always, always have something to say (to the point where it is a problem).  Well, "always" until something like this happens.  And then, at an unfamiliar loss for words, I quietly extract my BlackBerry from my bag, snap a photo to send to SubwayDouchery, whisper "Why god, why?" and then step off the F train with slightly less faith in the human race.

Discuss.