Very bad. Berry nice.


I'm the (self-proclaimed) third Wakefield twin.
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Living in the Big Apple for nearly 3 years now made me believe that I am a Z-list celebrity with an A+ body. Rawr. I may just be the only person girlier than Barbie - who uses the term “open-mouth kiss” un-ironically (as in “Oh, Mummykins, no! I didn’t open-mouth kiss him for two months!”). Mark my words, I will be one of the most remarkable people you will ever have had the honor of knowing: you may just wanna bottle me up, lol. Want more? Click my kitty!
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For questions, comments or even suggestions (like I would listen to you, please, jk), click on my Subway card.
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I ♥ NY!


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Subway Shorts: Worst Commute To Date

It started when I was slammed in between the doors getting on the 6 train.  Big deal, that happens all the time, I shook it off.


Then, when I was getting off the 6 train, someone accidently kicked my flip flop off and it flew across the platform and into the 4/5 train on the other side.  I decided to go after it, and the train doors closed before I could get off.  Fifteen minutes later, I was back to where I started.  Okay, so the bottom of my foot is covered with HIV, that’s fine – I’ll wash it off when I get to the office.


For the grand finale, I got on the L train and sat across from an insane guy with implanted vampire fangs.  He started licking his teeth and lips and making creepy, disgusting faces at me.  Whatevs, this is New York, being facially molested is totally normal, I’m fine.  But then he started stroking the pockets on his floor length leather jacket and reached in to pull out the contents.  I mean, what could be in there?  An iPod Touch?  A gun?  An antibacterial cloth I could borrow?  Nope.  He pulled out… TWO MOTHEREFFING MICE.  And proceeded to let them crawl all over him while we rode across town in an enclosed, crowded subway car.


I looked around, panicked and short of breath.  Surely other passengers were having mild to moderate heart arrhythmia too.  But nothing! – no one even looked up from their newspaper.   The vampire continued to antagonize me when one of the mice hopped onto the floor and crawled right over my foot.  I was so paralyzed with fear that I didn’t even make a sound.  The doors opened at my stop and I bolted up the stairs, tears starting to brim over.


At first I thought all of this mice and bird torture was sort of character building.  The kind of thing I would look back on when I’m 35, living behind a picket fence somewhere in the South and think, “Oh, my early twenties in New York.  The mice, the debt, the fun!”   But this has just gone too far.  It might come across as funny on this blog, but it’s not in real life.  And I have the tears on my keyboard to prove it. allergy treatment austin

Tagged: these streets will make you feel brand new.