Culture on the Cheap
G is for Gonads!
Last night I ventured into Manhattan to attend Gothamist‘s holiday party. I have long wanted to meet Jen Chung and thank her for finding Julie, my former feline neighbor/bodega cat a new home. And I did.
It took me three subway lines and two transfers to make it happen, but I didn’t mind. Unlike my fellow go-getters, having no “direct access” to Manhattan does not bother me. I travel at a leisurely pace in life, so the Crosstown Local (AKA: the “G”) suits me perfectly.
Some of you might remember the post I wrote about the above annotated poster(s). If not, you can read about it here. I despise the “marker-proofing” of these advertisements. If forced to look at some tart’s “package” while waiting for the G, I should have the right to comment about it— or better yet— force said tart stare at my “package”. Freedom of discourse.
Thankfully we Greenpointers…
have risen to the challgenge.
Behold, the (s)Hit(wo)man!
What is this?
There’s nothing a nice heterosexual gal likes to do more than to mount some penis.
Oh, they meant Dick.
Sorry, I am not into five-ways or living in a police state.