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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Bad Dog, No Turkey
Fine Ass Forehead - A Different Kind of Beautiful Mind
Childhood in a Bag... A Not So Trivial Pursuit*
Taken for a Ride
Brazillian Wax On, Wax Off
The Bank, The Vendor, and Me
The Library: It's Not Just Books
Dresser Drawer Time Machine
Compliments from Strangers: Fav, Poke, Endorse, Repeat
Grown Folks Double Dutch
Dear Facebook, WTF?
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Harriet Tubman Sex Tape? Say What, Now?
Real Life Math Problem; A Lesson Over Coffee at Dunkin Donuts
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