Shmalloween

While usually the opportunity to wear tight pants AND a tight shirt underneath a new corset from Daffy's makes my heart palpitate with anticipation, this year I'm so not motivated by Halloween. This past Saturday as I braved harsh funnel-winds on the way to the bar around the corner, the raucous hordes of costumed partygoers only depressed me. And not only because there was a blonde girl wearing what looked exactly like my homemade “sexy mechanic” costume from last year, but also because it just looked like so much WORK. And not even the good kind of work where you look like you didn’t do anything when in fact it took you 3 more hours than normal to get ready to go out. The bad kind of work where you actually look like you spent at least 3 more hours getting ready but the end result is really lame.
And I’m so tired of getting drunk and raucousey and then parading down the sidewalk with my posse of also-lame whiteys dressed like vampires and pedophilic priests. It’s no longer a novelty to get drunk and go to parties; I do it almost every weekend. And it’s hasn’t been illegal for YEARS now. I don’t even see the point of doing things anymore if it’s not illegal and I’m finally at the age where almost everything is sanctioned by law. The most fun I could possibly have anymore is to rent a car, drive to Kentucky and have anal sex with a prostitute. I’m not saying that wouldn’t be fun even if it were legal, I’m just saying that for some reason America is taking away all the good things in life by telling me I can go ahead and do them.
Anyway, that was a total tangent, back to Halloween. Halloween just has no point this year. I’m going to spend the night in bed watching Ugly Betty. I’m wearing all blue today. I’m so over Orange as a color. The only good thing about the holiday this year was I got to watch the history of Vlad the Impaler on the History Network and everybody keeps giving me candy.

Welcome to Our World

Welcome to I Hate to Break It to You.
Once upon a time, New York City was the center of the new world. A cultural mecca, an immigrant stew of visionary thought and social change. Nowadays, it has become something of a connundrum as the people of Murray Hill have sunk their well-capped teeth into our fair city. Muffled in ugg boots and disguised by hair extensions, the new-aged New Yorkers have apathetically slinked their way downtown; into the East Village, Alphabet city, and now even the Lower East Side!! (Forget the West Village, which fell prey to Jersey before either of us even knew how to spell U-G-H.)
We have patiently waited as button down shirts and fake hair invaded our favorite bars and restaurants. We have tried to ignore the mini-skirts paired with pastel uggs in the aisles of our favorite stores. We once almost got run over by a bicycle because the self-involved refused to move from their concentrated clump in the middle of the sidewalk (citizen's arrest!!). But now, the visual assult of leggings and formal shorts is the final straw. It is time to speak out on behalf of the integrity of our city against everything that should be hated, ridiculed, and viciously pushed into the gutter.
So without further hesitation, we will embark on our blogging adventure. And since we are starting this way too late in our development to be able to quickly acquire new skills, please excuse our possibly rocky start.

This blog is temporarily out of service while we figure out what the hell we're doing. Keep your pants on!