So Sheri and I are moving out of the Oh-so-ten-minutes-ago north side of ultra-trendy Williamsburg and over to the about-to-be-the-next-big-thing east side. Among the many benefits of our great trek will be

1. Not having to wait behind people who can't get up the subway stairs because they are crippled by the trendiness of their shoes.

2. Not being savagely glared at by supermodels whenever we eat in public.

3. Being able to find our way home because they haven't opened 13 new restaraunts in the time it took you to buy a yoo-hoo.


And so on. On the frightening side, we'll be living a block away from a White Castle. For those of you unlucky enough to have never lived anywhere near one. White Castle is what the guy who wrote Fast Food Nation tells his little kids about so they'll be good. For about 2 bucks you can get enough cholesterol and fat in the form of processed rat eyeballs to stop a charging rhino in it's tracks.

You see, White Castle sells little tiny burgers. In sacks. Of ten. Or more.

They're small, so you think: "hey what's a couple?". And before you know it, you've got a suitcase full, and you're heading to a motel to be alone with it.


God help us all....
  ¶ 6:05 PM

  Okay, I really don't want to become a Sharpeworld reposting site, but this may be the goddam funniest thing I've ever seen. I think Jen Sharpe might be some kind of super-robot designed by the pentagon to keep us amused while they take over the country.

It's working.   ¶ 4:47 PM