Wednesday, February 27, 2008

If The Mountains Are Green, It Must Be Vermont

and if they're covered with snow, used oxygen bottles and dead bodies, it must be Nepal. But I digress.

It's time for Chapter 11 in "Know Limpy's States" Imagine that. Two chapters in one week. Does the fun ever start?

Vermont is the 14th state, entering the union on March 4, 1791. Apparently they declared independence in 1777 from the British, and for good measure, threw in the other colonies too. Contentious little bastards. There was some talk about joing Canada, but after realizing that joining with Canada meant they would then have to eventually agree to socialized medicine, might-as-well-be-legal pot and a strong commitment to keeping the environment clean, they decided discretion was the better part of valor and stuck with the US. And that's why today Vermont is known as a state with one of the worst environmental records, a strong anti-drug stance and a rock-ribbed Republican political system.

Seriously, what the fuck? Are we sure they didn't join Canada? They're more Canadien than Quebec for Christ's sake!

Prior to the Revolution, New York and New Hampshire actually fought a few battles over who would get Vermont, (Vermont being between them and all), with the famous Ethan Allen leading the fight to join Vermont to New Hampshire. Which made sense because then there would have been one square state instead of two triangles. But then the Revolution got started and everyone realized they could have more fun fighting the British. So Allen and his famous "Green Mountain Boys", (they were this close to going with "Chartreuse Moutain Boys", until someone pointed out how gaytastic that would sound), invaded Fort Ticonderoga and took it from the British. And by invaded I mean "showed up one night while everyone was sleeping and made them give him the keys." Apparently the only musket fired in anger didn't even work.

Vermont is famous for its production of maple syrup, althought thanks to global warming they'll probably soon be famous for their awesome pineapples. They're also famous for their production of marble, and possess both the world's largest granite quarry and the world's largest underground marble quarry. Because I guess it wasn't hard enough to quarry marble from above ground. The marble industry figures prominently in this book, by an author I usually like but who in this book took the precaution of making the narrator such a pussy that I found myself rooting for him to die. But there's some neat stuff in there about marble and how to cut your friend's finger off with a marble saw so he doesn't get drafted, knowledge that may or may not be useful in the future.

Vermont is known as the "Green Mountain State", apparently because the French explorer Samuel de Champlain, the first European to explore the area, called it "Vert mont", which means "green mountain" in French and means Vermont to the rest of us. However, as currently nearly 3/4 of Vermont's electricity is generated by a nuclear power plant in the southeast of the state, perhaps one day the mountains really will glow green all year round.

The state bird is the hermit thrush. Which seems kind of fitting given some of the people I've met up in the northern area of the state. One time I was returning from a trip to upstate New York and was driving my then girlfriend's father's car. It was old and at some point fairly far up north a hose let go, causing us to limp into the next alleged town. We found a gas station that looked like something you see in those movies where the kids break down and then all except the virgin get killed by cannibals. And we didn't even have any virgins with us. But we weren't getting back home without help, so I pulled into Eustus's Gas n' Go and looked for help. Two guys who looked like grizzly bears and smelled like they molested sheep, (don't ask how I know that), came rumbling out and looked at the motor. Within seconds they diagnosed the problem I had missed, (a broken hose spraying water everywhere), produced a new hose and rigged it up to the engine. Then they refused any payment saying "t'weren't nothing". They did however, accept the six-pack I produced from a nearby dry goods store. Then my girlfriend and I fought all the way back to Connecticut. It's a sad story, but the guys in upstate Vermont were really nice and not at all cannibalistic. Which is too bad, because I totally would have let them have the girl for free.

To be fair, at that point she would have done the same to me. And I was meatier.

I don't know what any of this has to do with Hermit Thrushes, except that these guys looked like they could have a few of them in their beards.

The state flower, officially, is the red clover. Judging from the picture I'm looking at it's something I consider a weed when I see it on my lawn. Unoffically, if you've ever been to a Phish concert, the state flower is something else entirely.

The highest point in Vermont is Mt. Mansfield, at 4,393 feet above sea level. I've never climbed it. Partly because I'm lazy and it's several hours away from me, but mostly because it's also a ski resort and it just seems kind of less than a challenge to walk up a ski path in the summer. But one of these days I'll do it.

There are 619,107 people in Vermont. Only Wyoming has less. Which makes sense, because if you had to choose between the state where Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream was invented and the state where "Brokeback Mountain" took place, where are you going?
Here's a funny side-note. Apparently the American Humane Society raised concerns that several sheep were mistreated during the filming of Brokeback, a Wikipedia entry that just begs for some kind of clarification.

IF YOU'RE IN VERMONT YOU SHOULD: Avoid the antique stores. My wife and I went through a few stores while I was up there interviewing for a job. They're not shy about the prices. Lake Champlain is nice. There are a lot of great hiking spots, and I think there's a couple of places that'll rent you skis and let you go down a hill. I wouldn't know, because my dexterity is such that downhill skiing for me would result in my certain demise and the near certain demise of anyone within reach of my flailing ski-poles.

I'm kind of digging Miss Vermont, and not in the "kind of digging a shallow grave by the side of the road" kind of way either. Although I can't shake the feeling she puts her make-up on with a spatula.

LIMPY'S CONNECTION TO THE STATE: Slim. For some reason I've never spent much time in Vermont, doing most of my climbing and hiking in New Hampshire. I didn't get that job I mentioned above, or else I guess I'd have more of a connection to the state. Just as well; the guy seemd like a dick. I have taken the ferry across Lake Champlain, and did not see the monster alleged to live there. And I've got a good friend, or former good friend, last known to be living in Vermont and now probably in jail up there.

HAS LIMPY EVER GOTTEN LAID IN THIS STATE: I think so. Here's the deal. When I interviewed for that job my wife and I went up the night before and stayed in a motel. Where we got to "know" each other in the Biblical sense if you know what I mean. And if you don't, we had sex OK? But I think that the motel might have been in New Hampshire, just over the state line. But since I need to fill out Pug's electoral college placemat, (see comments about Rhode Island), I'm going to claim it as a "yes". If my election goes to the Supreme Court, Vermont will clearly be my hanging chad.

OK kids, we're done with the northeast. The next section of the country in the book is the southeast. So get ready for a trip to Alabama! Please take your seats in the appropriate section of the bus.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Hi Muffy, It's Tad. Listen, Have Jeeves Pull The Car Around, We're Going To Rhode Island!

Chapter 10, (holy shit we're 20% done!) in "Know Limpy's States"

Rhode Island is the 13th state, the last of the original colonies to join the Union, ratifying the Constitution on May 29, 1790. The book says that Rhode Island waited so long becuase they steered an independent course in outside affairs, which must be code for "was populated largely by a bunch of unbearably self-important pricks". But then they realized that if they joined the union they could make tons of money selling lumber to the West Indies. rum to Africa, and slaves to the other states. The book glosses over that little passage in history, and the enormous role Newport played in it, in two lines. Giddy up.

Rhode Island also had other concerns revolving around religious freedom. After all, the first white settlements were under Roger Williams, who left Massachusetts to escape religious oprresion from the Puritans, who had left England seeking freedom from religious oppresion from the Anglicans, who started their religion to get out from under the yoke of Catholic oppression, which started when 12 Jews let the business opportunity of all history slip through their fingers. Anybody else think I should write a history of religion?


Also, Rhode Island had concerns about representation in the future government, and their leaders were adamant that some way of representation be devised other than on population. So the Senate was created, giving us an opportunity to see today's senators start investigations into whether or not the Patriots cheated by taping other teams football practices. You know, because there's nothing else important to deal with. Dicks.

Rhode Island's concerns may have been justified as they were then, and are now, the smallest US state, (in size, although as we all know, it's not the size of the state but the motion of the ocean state), and in fact is often mistaken for a suburb of Boston. Which the northern part of the state might as well be anyway.

Rhode Island is known as the "Ocean State" possibly because a large part of the ocean goes right up the middle of it. This creates a body of water called Narragansett Bay, which in turn gave a name, and possibly is the water source for, one of the foulest beers ever created, Narragansett Ale. Seriously, salt water would improve that crap. Also, no point in Rhodae Island is more than half an hour from the ocean. Not that a similar situation is considered a benefit to the good people, and frequently the "former good people", of the low-lying country of Bangladesh.

The state bird is the Rhode Island Red. A chicken. Seriously.

The state flower is the violet, which they stole from New Jersey. Which might give one occasion to worry that New Jersey would whack Rhode Island for stealing their flower, except that Rhode Island has a rich history of putting criminals in power, like Vincent "Buddy" Cianci,
who was mayor of the capital, (Providence), then was forced to resign for doing things like hitting a guy in the head with an ashtray and a fireplace log, then got re-elected, then went to jail for more mundane corruption charges. So I think Rhode Island can keep the violet for now.

The highest point in Rhode Island is Jerimoth Hill, at a whopping 812 feet above sea level. You could get higher than that with skunk weed.

There are 1,076,164 people in Rhode Island. The majority of them are named Tad or Muffy or something that rhymes with Tad or Muffy. They enjoy a good game of tennis, a nice afternoon on the sailboat, and a pleasant evening of cocktails and bitching about how you just can't get good help anymore.

IF YOU'RE IN RHODE ISLAND YOU SHOULD: Not drink anything made by the Narragansett brewery. You should, however, go to a beach. They have some kick ass beaches there. If you feel like being gouged, take a ferry out to Block Island, enjoy the views, the good seafood, the copious amount of available alochol, (and the twenty-something au pairs who are all over the place), and the thirrl of paying about twice what everything is worth. Or you could go to Newport and take a tour of the mansions there, to get an idea of what it might be like to be the kind of person who doesn't care at all what something costs. Providence is also a pretty hopping little town, and a good place to see a band play, or, for the more sophisticated of my readers, (hey, there's probably a lurker or two around), you can go see Providence's "Waterfire" exhibit, where they have a lot of arty things to do and they set a river on fire on purpose.
As opposed to Cleveland, where that sort of thing just kind of happens.

Is it just me, or is that blank stare really creepy?

LIMPY'S CONNECTION TO THE STATE: I like Rhode Island a lot. We usually go to Block Island once a year with some friends who have a boat. That way we can bring a lot of our own beer and food, (and beer), and avoid having to take a second mortgage out for the trip. Rhode Island's ocean beaches blow anything else in New England away, including the Cape. Providence is a lot of fun, and still fairly unknown.

HAS LIMPY EVER GOTTEN LAID IN THIS STATE: Yes. The Westin Hotel in Providence has a fond place in my memory. Assuming it's still open. Might have been the Omni. Look, I just remember the room OK?

Up next it's Vermont, home of maple syrup, hippies, and hippies covered in maple syrup.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

I Thought This Was A Couple Of Years Away

but apparently I was wrong. Gloriously, wonderfully wrong. It seems that Lindsay Lohan has posed nude for New York magazine. Frankly, my money would have been on Hustler before New York Magazine. The best part of the story? Besides, of course, the pictures? (You didn''t think I'd forget you did you Phollower?)

(more photos after following the link above)

The latest rumor is that she was tricked into doing it, with the photographer claiming that only tamer shots would appear in the magazine, with the more revealing shots being reserved for museums or arty type books. I'm not sure how true that is; as the good folks at WWTDD point out, tricking Lohan into taking her clothes off seems "like tricking a fat kid to eat a cake", but if so, it sort of makes this even funnier. In a "wow that's a huge lawsuit" kind of way.

Just on a personal note, I've never found Lindsay Lohan all that attractive, but I do like these pictures. Nice job, even if it was by accident.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Pennsylvania: Hey Look Kids, Another Dead Deer!

Chapter 9 in the now-plodding along "Know Limpy's States"

Pennsylvania is the 2nd state, entering the Union on December 12, 1787. If they could have gotten their act together and done it 6 days earlier, none of us would ever have had to know anything about Delaware. Including perhaps how to spell it during the 5th grade spelling bee and therefore not losing to that geek Fred Humpage.

Pennsylvania is known as "The Keystone State", for some reason. According to this book it's because "[t]o a builder, the keystone is at the center of the arch, the stone that binds the others together. Pennsylvania was key to the nation's succesful start, and a major force in holding the union together during its toughest time." Which I guess would have been a little thing called the "Civil War", or as some of my 'Bama friends like to call it, spitting the words out between their three mismatched teeth, "The War of Northern Aggression." Face it, we kicked your asses. Get over it.

Anyway, calling Pennsylvania the Keystone State because it was crucial to the nation's start seems like kind of a kick to the groin of New York, Virginia and Massachussets, but what do I know? I was only a history major. As I recall, Washington was usually pissed off at the Quakers, who stayed out of the fighting due to their pacifist tendencies, but who were more than happy to sell stuff to the troops at a 200% mark-up, because, hey, a buck's a buck. Of course, Washington was also usually pissed off at the New England troops because they didn't listen well, tended to wander off, and didn't exactly bathe on a regular basis.

Of course, at the time Pennsylvania was pretty much the center of the universe because it had Philadelphia and to a (much) lesser extent, Pittsburgh. Which at the time was pretty much a wooden fort filled with sick and bitter troops and surrounded by Indians. Today, people in Pittsburgh refer to those times, justifiably, as "The Good Old Days". Philadelphia had, in the Revolutionary era, Ben Franklin, who was probably the most famous American in the world, (and something of a slut if you believe the stuff written about what he was doing in Europe while representing America), so it was probably the most famous city in the US for a time. It was the first capital of the country, (in colonial times anyway, I think NYC took it over after the Constitution, but I'm too lazy to go look that up), and the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution were written there. Also there's a bell in the city somewhere but the name escapes me.

Pennsylvania is a long state, with many highways. I had thought, based on a movie I had rented as research for this post, that the most famous of these highways was the one leading to the chocolate factories in Hershey, but it turns out that "Chocolate Thunder's Adventures On The Hershey Highway" meant something entirely different. Boy was my face red!

That mistake aside however, I did once drive across Pennsylvania in one day. There are few experiences I can think of more unpleasant than that, although to be fair, at least two from that movie spring to mind fairly quickly. Mile after mile after mile of two lane highway with traffic stuck at 45 mph at best. And as the title of this little opus suggests, as far as I know the Pennsylvania DOT has a plan for the removal of deer carcasses which is called "ignore them and they will eventually rot", because I shit you not, during those hellish 7 hours my brother and I saw dozens of dead deer on the side of the road, several of which had clearly been out there past their expiration date.

We also noticed that in western PA there's a porn shop about every 7 miles off the highway.

Pennsylvania's state bird is the Ruffed Grouse. I know little about this bird but would hope it knows how to avoid highways or else it's ll be extinct by the time you finish reading this.

Pennsylvania's state flower is the mountain laurel, which is a total fucking rip-off of Connecticut! We had it first bitch! Perhaps we can fight another war about this issue. Connecticut and Pennsylvania did actually exchange a few shots at one point over an area of land called the "Case Western Reserve" Seems that CT's original charter from the British king, (either George III or someone else), extended CT lands as far west as the next ocean. Pennsylvania and Ohio would later get somewhat uppity about this. CT settlers later settled in parts of Pennsylvania, and, since no ones happy when CT yuppies come in wearing pink shirts and green pants, the Pennsylvania people got pissed and I believe some shots were fired and farms burned before differences were settled. To learn more about this fascinating chapter of our history, ask someone who knows more about it than I do. The wino on the corner would be a good place to start.

The highest point in Pennsylvania is Mt. Davis, in the southwest, looming up 3,213 above sea level. One of the lowest points in Pennsylvania is the Johnstown River valley. In 1889, an old and incredibly poorly maintained earthen dam located, quite unfortunately, above the towns in said valley, burst. The lake behind the dam came down the valley like a huge, uh, well, like a huge fucking wave I guess, and pretty much cleaned everything out. More than 2,000 people were killed. The most incredible thing about the flood? Very few lawsuits were filed and none of the plaintiffs recovered anything except one where someone recovered for some stolen whiskey!! Good book by the way, but then, McCullough could rewrite the phone book and I'd probably read it.

There are 12,365,455 people in Pennsylvania. Some of them are Amish. The Amish are a weird religious group, (although certainly not as weird as Scientolgists or, -shudder-, Catholics), who mostly live in the southeast and shun modern technology. Kind of like Ewoks but not as cuddly. For fun you can drive thought the area pointing your camera at them and watch them dive to the ground lest your magical flashamabulb thingie capture their souls.

Actually, I don't know if they do that, but they do have a kind of neat tradition or ritual or ritual-tradition, called "rumspringa" This, as I understand it, is kind of a young person's last chance to leave the community and join the land of the living, or else get baptized and commit to a life of scrapple and button-fly flannel pants and saying "thee" and "thou" a lot. One of the MTV channels did a reality show on this a few years ago. They took a handful of Amish teens and stuck them in a house in LA while they did their rumspringa. I thought it was going to be like watching a car crash, but it was kind of cool watching the kids see an entirely different, ("entirely" doesn't quite describe what it must be like going from Ephrata, PA to Los Angeles, but for now it'll do), and seeing how they reacted to it. As the show went on it seemed like the women were more inclined to rethink this whole living in the 18th century way of life, while the guys were frankly terrified of the concept, although they did like the beer. Which just goes to show you that what I've always said is true: If you expect breakfast on the table every morning don't ever let your wife leaving the house!

I make my own oatmeal pretty much every morning.

IF YOU'RE IN PENNSYLVANIA YOU SHOULD: First, keep an eye peeled for deer, because the things are apparently sucidal down there and prefer to off themselves in traffic. Second, stay away from Scranton, the ugliest metropolitan, (and I use that term loosely), area I've ever seen, and remember, I dated a girl who lived in Worcester, MA! Other than that, I can't really tell you. I went to Philadelphia once. Saw a baseball game at the old stadium, which was a hideous monstrosity and deserved to be blown up. It was 108 degrees that day, and for once I'm not lying. The new stadium looks nice, although unfortunately it's still the Phillies in there. My brother went to Pittsburgh last summer and said it was nice. You could see a Pirates game there, they have a nice new stadium as well, which is odd for a Double A team. My advice would be to root for the visitors.

I don't know about you, but that was kinda worth the wait.

LIMPY'S CONNECTION TO STATE: Minimal. Although I've driven the length of the state twice, the most time I've spent out of the car was at that one Phillies game. That was for about four hours, the last two of which I was drunk and suffering from heat stroke.


Up next, Rhode Island. Hold the applause.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Technical Difficulties, Please Stand By

I hate to let anyone down, and to let Pug down when he was counting on reading about the Amish is almost more than I can bear. Yet somehow I pull through. At the moment I am in the middle of making some fairly important decisions about how, where and with whom I'll be earning money in the future. There are many things to factor, incuding the fact that I like my current job a lot, it pays well, and there's a comfort factor to that, as opposed to determining how many marijuana plants I can fit in the basement and exactly how to tap directly into that high voltage power line near my house so that no one notices the suddent surge in power use from the heat lamps and hydrophonics plant. Or should I do the environementally sensiitice thing and go solar?

Many, many decisions and many things to do over the last (and next) several days. So bear with me. At some point, (hell, maybe tonight, although probably not because I need to watch "Lost" and catch up with "The Wire", and, oh yeah, it's Valentine's Day), I will get to Pennsylvania and the Amish and how all you really need to do to pick up an Amish hottie
is infiltrate their daily life while protecting their child who witnessed Danny Glover kill someone in a Philadelphia public restroom.

Could have been worse; he could've witnessed something going on in a Minneapolis airport men's room.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Fuck Everything, I'm Going To Bed

I was going to write up an exciting, informative and inaccurate history of Pennsylvania tonight, but it's late, I haven't been to bed before 2 in four days, (completely my own fault), and I need to be at work earlier than usual tomorrow so I'm goign to do the responsible thing and hit the sack before midnight.

So Pennsylvania, the Quakers, the Pittsburgh Steelers and dead deer strewn across highways will just have to wait until maybe tomorrow. Hold your breath. Sort of like what one has to do while driving through New Jersey to get to Philadelphia.

Friday, February 08, 2008

Finally, A Reason To See A Woody Allen Movie

According to the New York Post, (and more importantly, since I wouldn't wipe my ass with the Post), the new Woody Allen movie will include a "steamy lesbian sex scene" involving Penelope Cruz and Scarlet Johanson

Actually, I probably don't need to see the movie, since it's been playing on more or less of a continuous reel in my head since I learned of this. As more than one person has pointed out, Allen's a creepy little fucker who probably wrote the scene into the movie just so he could watch two hot chicks make out in front of him, but since I've paid good money to watch the same thing in seedy bars, well, who can cast a stone?

You like that kids? "cast a stone"? Who else gives you Biblical references in posts about steamy lesbian sex scenes? No one that's who! And saying "Oh thank you god!!" upon reading this doesn't count.

Saturday, February 02, 2008

New York: New Jersey Is Our Bitch

Chapter 8 in "Know Limpy's States"

With a title shamelessly swiped from CP.

New York was the 11th state to join the union, ratifying the Constitution on July 26, 1788. Everyone was very excited, since New York was already nearly the most populous state, (and after 1790 would be and would remain so until the Mexicans found that hole in the fence near California), had most of the money, and most importantly, now there was finally somewhere to stuff all those goddamn Irish who were making noise about crossing the ocean in rickety little boats. Five Points here we come!! Within 50 years Limpy's forebears slipped through a restraining order at Ellis Island and the rest is pretty much history!

New York is nicknamed, by New Yorkers, "The Empire State", because New Yorkers think that the world revolves around them and that the rest of us are pretty much just far-flung little outposts of their vast empire. This would piss everyone else off but good if it wasn't for the distinct possibility that those smug little bastards are right. Because New York pretty much is the capital of the world. Name something, anything, from fashion to sports to money to food to whatever you can think of and New York's probably got more of it per square foot than anywhere else you can think of. More Jews than Israel, more Puerto Ricans than Puerto Rico and more Haitians than the bottom of the Florida Straits.

God that was awful.

The bottom line is that the world tends to revolve around New York. Sure there are other cute little burgs like London, Tokyo, Paris, Nairobi, (well, maybe not so much Nairobi), but you'll notice that when people from those towns want to make it big they come to New York. Unless they're some dumbass named Matsuzaka.

Of course, all of this is relevant only to New York City, and there's a lot more to New York than NYC. It's just that no one gives a shit about any of it. Seriously, if the rest of New York just disappeared one day, few people would notice and less would care. But since I try to give inaccurate if not completyely made-up information about the entire state, here goes...

Omnia Gallia est patria,....

Oh, sorry, that was me channeling my third year high school Latin class. I was told it would be useful. It's been 18 years, that's the first time I've written something in Latin. And it's probably wrong. It's from Caesar's writings about invading Gaul and whupping up on the barbarians, (who 400 years later kicked the shit out of the Romans), and starts out by saying, in Latin, "All Gaul is divided into three parts", no doubt news to the Gallic tribes, who were much more into subdivisions than they apparently let on to Caesar. Similarly, New York is divided into three areas, and like Caesar and his ilk 2,000+ years ago, most people from New York City would be as happy to see someone from Rochester heading towards their apartment as the Romans were when the Visigoths showed up in 426 looking to borrow a cup of sugar.

Most people call anything north of the metro NYC area "Upstate" This includes the state capital of Albany, major cities like Rochester, Syracuse and Buffalo, (Go Sabres!), and of course, Utica, home of Genessee Cream Ale. There's a lot of farms and two state parks, one of which, Adirondack State Park, is E-friggin'-normous, taking up a big chunk of the middle of the state, and another, the Catskills, which some people, (OK me), refer to as "The Hebrew Himalayas"

Trips to upstate New York can be fun and exciting, with lots of scenery, fresh air, the Baseball Hall of Fame, setting fire to Lake Erie, and driving in an incessant straight line across I-90 until one starts praying for death to arrive, if only to relieve the tedium.

The other section of New York state is, of course, Long Island. I've always been told, "if you can't say anything good about something, say nothing"

The best part about New York, of course, is the New York Yankees.
26 time World Series Champions. Most other sports teams win four championships and than start talking about winning a fifth championship as "win one for the thumb." The Yankees have one for their thumb, the fingers and thumb on the other hand, all their toes on both feet, their cocks and all the fingers on one of your hands, (assuming your not some six-fingered circus freak Mets fan), and don't you forget it motherfucker!

New York's state bird is the Eastern Bluebird. I would hazard a guess that you'd need to go upstate to see one. The only birds in New York City are pigeons, and those things will stab other birds and take their wallets as soon as look at them.

New York's state flower is the rose, because seriously, what else were those pretentious fucks going to choose? A carnation? I think not.

The highest point in New York is Mt. Marcy, nestled in Adirondack State Park, surrounded by slack-jawed yokels, (and those are the hikers), and topping off at 5,344 feet above sea level. I've never climbed it, as some fellow hikers I trust have told me its overcrowded, seriously eroded, and generally not really worth the effort. It's probably paved with gold and has gorgeous strippers lining the trails and those fuckers are just keeping it to themselves.

There are 19,190,115 people in New York, 8,084,316 of whom live in New York City. The New York metropolitan area itself includes over 21 million people, which is more people than the entire state, and includes chunks of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Connecticut, and for some reason, a small area of Wyoming but no one knows why.

FUN TRUE STORY ABOUT A NEW YORKER: A buddy of mine and I are in a gas station in Manchester, CT, 2-3 hours from New York. A sterotypical New York guido pulls up in his Trans Am and asks if we can tell him where the airport is. We say there's no airport nearby. He gets all flustered and says his buddy told him he had to pick him up at the Manchester airport and he's been on the road for two hours and "what the fuck yo?" So I look at his license plate and see it says New York and then I take in his accent, leather jacket and T-shirt, and the girl with the huge hair in the passenger seat and I say, "You're from Brooklyn aren't you" He says "Yeah" and I say "You think you're in Manchester New Hampshire don't you?" He says "Yeah" And then we tell him he's a good 3 hours from where he's supposed to be and give him directions to Manchester, NH. Going to show that people from NYC have no clue about the outside world and, if released into it, will wander around lost and gasping for air until someone takes their hand, gives them a gentle shove in the right direction, and reminds them to breathe in and out.

IF YOU'RE IN NEW YORK YOU SHOULD: Just head for the City. Go to Broadway. Get drunk at Hogs and Heifers. See the Bronx Zoo. See the Yankees. Don't see the Mets. Cheer for the Rangers and boo the Knicks. Bang a hooker. Kill a hooker. (No don't. Kill a Mets fan instead) Go to the Museum of Natural History. Do whatever you want, because if you can think it up, NYC will sell it to you.

If you're on Long Island try to get to a beach and get some sun. Then leave. If you're in upstate New Yok just keep driving. You'll hit Canada eventually.


But sometimes, after making hisotry by becoming the first African-American Miss America, her past comes back to haunt her and she looks like this:

But then she goes on to have a fairly succesful singing and acting career, marries a pro basketball player and makes millions of dollars, so the lesson here kids, is that if Penthouse magazine asks if they can publish naked pictures of you, say yes. And yes, I know poor Vanessa didn't actually get asked for permission, but she's certainly made more of her Miss America than 98.99999999999% of the rest of them, so the lesson still holds: Penthouse is good for your career.

LIMPY'S CONNECTION TO STATE: I visit the City whenever I can. I love the place but wouldn't want to live there. A few days is good and then the overwhelming smell of urine starts to irk me. I've been to Long Island a few times when I've had to and honestly I like the area but find the people to be the sort that I hope the zombies eat first, because then the former would be dead and the latter would starve to death for lack of brains. Also Billy Joel would stop making new music. I've got relatives strewn across the I-90 corridor, (metaphorically. They're actually very safe drivers), from Albany to Syracuse, and that is one long ass drive, especially in the down pour that seems to accompany me every time I travel through there. I like New York a lot.

HAS LIMPY EVER GOTTEN LAID IN THIS STATE: Sweet mother of all that is holy, you bet!

Up next, Pennsylvania, because the Amish have to live somewhere.

Friday, February 01, 2008

I Really Wish It Was Oregon's Turn Today

because then this would be much more timely. But looking at the table of contents we're not getting to Oregon any time soon, especially when you factor in my inherent laziness, so I'll put this up now rather than forget where it is three years from now when I'm finally trying to write something nice about a state filled with lesbians and rain.

And, apparently, a highway department with way too much dynamite on its hands.

I will get to New York by Monday or Tuesday, depending on whether or not I'm hungover from the Super Bowl or catch whatever flu bug my wife has. Either way, my chances of vomiting at some point this weekend are signifcantly higher than the Giants chances of winning the Super Bowl. I think actually I'm only supposed to refer to the Super Bowl as "The Big Game", because the NFL trademarked the phrase "Super Bowl", but fuck the man right?

Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl Super Bowl

God that gets boring quick.

In other news my wife and I are trying to decide whether or not to buy a new house. Isn't that exciting? Oh, you bet it is. Especially when you come to the conclusion that you can afford a nice house, although by no means a McMansion, OR, you can save for the kids to go to college, but you probably can't do both. And according to a newspaper we're not even middle-class, we're like upper middle-class. Which came as a big fucking surprise to yours truly. It amazes me how little that means these days. Growing up the people we knew of as upper-middle class had the nice homes, the new cars and their kids had nice clothes and cool toys. Now they're either doing what we're doing, plodding along and trying not to spend money unless absolutely necesary or else mortgaged to the hilt and driving the recession along by defaulting on their refinancing. Nice to know that the middle class is truly fucked and the upper middle-class is OK as long as they either don't have kids or have kids so hopelessly dumb that college isn't an issue.

Anyway, the last week as been filled with discussion of whether or not to spend upwards of $400K for a 3 bedroom house with a 2 car garage on 4+ acres of land near a state forest, (and right next to a high voltage power-line right of way that's due to be increased in 2 years!), thereby raising our mortgage to the point that current miscellaneous expenses, like, I don't know, gas for instance, become a problem; or, stay in our current home which we are outgrowing and continue to take the occasional vacation or put braces on the kids teeth and maybe save for college for at least one of them. I'm not sure we're going to swing two tuitions in 14 years even if we move into a fucking tent in that aforementioned state forest.

Or we could move to Alabama and buy the same house minus the high voltage wires for about $6.74. Whichever.


It's days like this when a good whale blubber explosion just means so much.