I am a Native New Yorker. That’s not a typo. It should to be capitalized. It’s not pride in an accident of birth but it’s staying here long after many friends and family members have pulled up stakes and moved to more hospitable climes. I survived 9/11, the mortgage meltdown, and a nanny mayor who would be king. I survived a house fire, Hurricane Sandy, and the Polar Vortex. But New York City’s 25 miles per hour speed limit has got me thinking about packing my bags...
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It's Always the Year of the Asshole
At the Cleaners: How the Everyday Can Just Flat Out Get Away From You
When You Want to Hug A Stranger in Dunkin Donuts
Bitch, Am I Boring You?
A Death in the Family
And How Are You Today? A Tale of Reverse Customer Service
Today Is My Mom's Birthday and She's Not Happy About It
Don't Hate on the Skinny Girl at the Gym
Indignation vs Communication
A View From the Bridge
Geriatric Stranger Danger
My First Dragon Con
Mission Accomplished: Welcome to Fog-a-licious San Francisco
Bite My Shiny Metal Ass
Name That Dog
Hey Baby Girl
Hellraiser
The Middle of the Night Phone Call
A Day in the Life of a Standup Comic: Just Writing
A Year Without A Dog
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