Civil War at the Dump

by singerz

While Mink is out of town, getting his extremely white (almost albino) skin burned to a crisp in the Bahamas, I would like to say something. Has anyone noticed that he is copying my topics? OK, it was one thing when he stole my barbershop idea and wrote “Barbershop 2.” But when he wrote “I’m about to go on strike too,” I realized that instead of coming up with new topics he has been using mine. Isn’t the point of a blog to write about new topics?

As such, I’m thinking about leaving him off of the invite list for the next blogger’s convention. Furthermore, he is going to be fined $1 million a day until he comes up with new topics.

Many of you may be saying to yourselves, “Wow, that’s a real dick move - writing about Mink while he is away and cannot defend himself.” And for those of you who don’t talk out loud to yourselves on a regular basis, you may be thinking such things. And to that, I respond with: there’s nothing wrong with talking out loud to yourself. Also, its more fun talking about someone when they cannot defend themselves.

Happy Holidays to all. Mink, your next topic better not be “Yea, Zev’s right, there is a Civil War at the Dump.”

I'm about to go on strike too

By Mink

Last night I watched someone get arrested outside a bar in downtown bmore. I don't know if this makes me a disturbed individual but I kept inching closer to get a better view and to listen to the whole interaction between the two cops and the young intoxicated lad....Piecing together what I saw and heard the young man was kicked out of a bar for fighting, then tried to kick down the door to get back in, and then began physically resisting the cops.......I was heading to my car about to head home but my legs just froze and I started staring at the scene the same way I generally stare non-discreetly at lovely looking ladies. Eventually (maybe 3 hours later) I finally walked away, and began to wonder why I absolutely cannot turn away from: arrests, fights, bad car accidents, and most disturbing of all the Baltimore Orioles.


Note: The NY strike and the Zevie strike may be over but I'm starting my own little blog strike on Sunday......If anyone wants to join me I'll be in the Bahamas staring for hours at scantily clad girls on the beach while trying not to become the guy that is stared at by idiots like me for getting arrested or getting involved in a rumble.....Back to work Zev.

R.I.P. ELROD

ZEV ON STRIKE- BLOG SHUTDOWN?

By singerz

I am on strike from blogging until my pension plan gets better and my blogging salary is raised by 6%. Mink doesnt treat me well and hes going to have to deal with a blog shutdown. I hope he has a good contingency plan (every comment below 96th street has to be written by at least 4 people).

The only result to this impasse will be binding arBITCHration.

NOTE: For our non-NYC blog readers, you may not find this post funny. Sorry.

NOTE 2: For our NYC blog readers, you may not find this post funny. Sorry.

Barbershop 2: My turn in the chair

By Mink

I hope you aren't barbershopped out but after Zev posted his barber adventures I felt an obligation to share this tale

Towards the end of my first year of law school my very caucasian law school friend and I entered a barber shop in lexington market (in the heart of downtown baltimore) much to the amusement of the customers and barbers.....If you have seen the movie Barber Shop you couldn't have replicated it much closer than the scene we witnessed that day.....(Guys hanging out for hours talking sports and detailing their latest female conquests, reading Ebony, and selling bootleg dvds)

Anyway they asked me what I wanted and I think I said something like "just buzz the back and blend the top with scissors, leaving the bangs a little longer." The dude looked at me in shock and responed "I don't do scissors, its either clippers or you can wait for Big Willie to help you." I chose to wait for Big Willie as my law school pal got an unusually time consuming buzz cut. I also giggled after hearing another guy describe that he wanted his hair to be done "Allen Iverson style."

As I got into the chair I told Big Willie to do mine "Christian Laetner style." (for the non-sports fan readers Mr. Laetner is one of maybe 7 caucasian-american NBA players in the league) Several patrons chuckled at that one but Big Willie was getting frustrated because I kept turning around to look in the mirror. Viewing it as an insult, he said "what you don't trust me?" I just smiled and tried to remain calm.

As it turned out Big Willie didn't use scissors either and his version of a blend was holding my hair in the front with a comb as he would chop off another layer with the clipper. After 2 or 3 chops, some chatter about illegal cable and the Maryland basketball team I was satisfied enough and thanked Big Wilie for his services......We walked past that shop on the way to law school everyday and although I never got another haircut there, Big Willie waived to me everyday after my unforgettable visit.

Editors note: I was saddened to learn recently that the Lexington Barber Shop has closed, however the DVD bootleg business is alive and well and rumor has it Big Willie is filling some of his extra time posting anonymously on this blog.

The Dump Hosts a Guest

by Kaliri

I am truly honored to have accepted a kind invitation to guest post on the blog. This website is one of the most important of it’s kind (whatever that may be.) It’s a true to testament to random literature and uncompromising journalism. The fascinating topics covered on this website by head writers Mink and Zev leave me thirsting for even more arbitrary information. That being said, I couldn’t think of an arbitrary topic funny or important enough to write about. So, I figured I’d just make fun of Zev and Mink.

On that note, I’d like to start by unofficially renaming this site “Minky and The Brain”, one is a genius and the other is clearly insane. Let’s take a look at the similarities between “Pinky and the Brain” and ”Minky and the Brain.”

“Pinky and the Brain” was a popular segment of the cartoon show Anamaniacs. It depicted two lab mice: Pinky was a comical English mouse that was completely insane. He was the taller of the two, and was quite clumsy. He was partnered with The Brain, a brilliant yet very dark and disturbed mouse. The brain was shorter, with a tremendous head and mouse shoulders. The Brain had one mission in life, and that was to take over the world.

Their missions generally failed, due to the fact that The Brain would almost always rely on Pinky to complete the most significant part of his brilliantly intricate plans. Pinky was inept, and incapable of following through on The Brain’s plans. As smart as he was, the Brain never seemed to learn that Pinky couldn’t come through for him. Or it could just be that fact that he had no one else (sound familiar yet, Zev and Mink?)

“Minky and the Brain”, are two popular guys who grew up in the nineties, they star in their own real life roles as simply Maniacs. Mink(y) can be compared to Pinky in many ways. Much like Pinky, Minky is tall and lanky, a bit clumsy as well. He too has been deemed insane by many observers. Pinky had a bizarre English accent; Minky too has a strange accent and bizarre way with words. He too has been deemed inept by all academia. But much like Pinky, he is a lovable character.

Zev (The brain) is very similar to The Brain. They are physically almost a perfect match. Zev is the shorter of the two, and he too has an unusually large head and football player like shoulders (possibly to house his large brain, or just globs of cheese from all of the pizza he eats.) The Brain’s mission was to take over the world and anyone that knows Zev understands that he too shares this same desire: trying to take over the world one person at a time, becoming loved by all, one mock trial club at a time.

What Zev and Mink don’t realize is that they too are just mice in “relation” to the rest of the world. History has a tendency of repeating itself, why not learn from the painful mistakes of those two lovable mice? This website may attract many readers, but Zev, C’MON, global domination? Minky, You gonna let Zev post more homosexual images of the two of you to carry out his plan?

I wish the two of you the best of luck, and I commend your very funny efforts. My point is, the two of you should continue to enjoy the popularity this site brings you, and be proud of the exposure that you are giving arbitrary issues that might otherwise go unnoticed. Good luck and watch out for traps!

The Barbershop Experience

By singerz

I decided to write the blog today about barbershops in order to redeem myself after my manicure post and to prove once and for all that I possess more testosterone than estrogen. And so I did some underground investigative reporting and went to get a haircut. I also went to get a haircut because I needed one. But mainly for the blog.

I enter the barbershop that I go to, one that has a very creative and appropriate name. “ALEX BARBER SHOP.” It seems that in Russian, there is no possessive ‘s’. In any event, there is security and a line to get in. I get to the barbershop and decide to begin my interview with a few of the customers.

Zev: Excuse me sir, is this your first time in Alex Barber Shop?
Angry Russian Man: (grunts) (unintelligible Russian mumbling)
Zev: Sir? Does Alex give a good haircut?
Angry Russian Man: Rasvitali Yagushki, Mina Nadricai (that’s a direct quote)

As it turns out, I don’t know Russian. And so even if his mumbling had been brilliant and articulate, I still would’ve called him angry mumbling Russian man. I decide to move on to interview number two. I approach a man, maybe in his mid-sixties, maybe not in his mid-sixties. He is completely BALD, sitting looking at some of the adult content magazines that Alex Barber Shop graciously provides for its customers.

Zev: Hello sir. I see you are bald. Why are you in a barbershop?
Bald man: I like the magazines. Alex has good magazines.
Zev: Ah yes, I agree, Rolling Stone, Sports Illustrated…
Bald man: Nah sonny, I’m talking Playboy, Penthouse..the works.
Zev: I see. And Alex does not mind that you come here just to read dirty magazines?
Bald man: Don’t worry, I wash my hands in the barbershop green liquid stuff.
Zev: That’s absolutely disgusting.
Bald man: Yes. Yes it is.

I came to the following conclusions from my time at Alex Barber Shop. A real barber shop must have the following:

-A red white and blue spinning thing outside that makes you dizzy
-A Playboy at the magazine table, but it's from 1986
-There is a shitty old TV on that gets only 2 stations
-Your barber watches the TV while he gives you a haircut
-There is a picture of the 1978 Russian soccer team on the wall
-Haircut prices have not been adjusted for inflation in 25 years
-A "haircut" means a buzz with a razor and shaving cream on your neck, no matter what you ask for

In blog news, we have a very special week. Stay tuned for a special guest blogger post, some new pictures, and Mink making fun of another dead guy.

An Apt 1B flashback

By Mink

Just saw a couple of bugs crawling around the kitchen today and got pretty annoyed but every time I see a little critter I immediately crack a smile as I take a trip down memory lane to my days at Yeshiva University in Apt 1B.

You see our Apt was the daily host for informal gatherings to watch the NBA on TNT, the Ravens (back when they were good), Maryland Basketball (the championship year), the Redskins (not my choice), Emeril, free PPV (where we became captivated by classics like Coyote Ugly and Bring it On), Playstation2, and sitcoms such as Everybody loves Raymond, Seinfeld and the then hit show ED (the bowling alley lawyer show).

Besides humans (i guess you can call us that) Apt 1B was also a huge hit amongst the rodent community of Spanish Harlem. They too enjoyed hanging out and actually being able to find a place to watch non-NY sporting events but I think they came mostly to chill with my roomate whose half eaten snacks left around the apartment made it the perfect place for the mice to pre-game before checking out the wild rodent nightlife scene at the NY Subway Stations.

Anyway here is the 1B mouse tale that always brings a smile to my face:

It is about 2 in the morning and I am just returning from the library (believe me not an ordinary occurence). So I enter the apartment and am not surprised to find the remnants of a normal night in 1B which to give you an idea featured: half eaten chinese food, wrappers, empty 40's of Colt 45, cigarette butts and the like.....

I don't see him at first but my roomate is sitting behind his desk located in the back part of the living room near the heater (which was the entry point for our furry friends and where we constantly kept the glue traps smeared with peanut butter). He is holding a small broom and in a faint and almost moaning tone explains "Minkove we have a situation!"

I head over towards his desk to find the scene of husky disheveled man with a look of sheer horror and helplessness as he watches a mouse nibble on the remains of his cheese curls which he had opened a week ago. Apparently the 2 creatures had been sitting there this way (my roomate with broom in hand; mouse with cheese curl in mouth) for quite some time before I arrived. But we decided enough was enough and chased the critter around the apt until we lost track of her in the cushions of our fine looking whitish leather couch......ahhh, good times....

Word Association Gone Bad

By Mink

Those of you who know me know that I have a habit of putting my foot in my mouth (both literally and figuratively). So the story that happened to me the other night should come as no surprise:

I was out to dinner at a restaurant the other night with my family including my aunt, uncle, and cousins. So during dinner I was having a side conversation with my sister when I overhear something my uncle says that strikes me as rather odd. I abruptly end the convo with my sister and ask loudly to my uncle "Did I just hear you say that you'd love to see more action?"

After what seemed liked the awkward eternity of silence (even longer than the pauses I would get in high school after asking girls to prom) he responds "Jon, actually Mr. 'Seymour Aschen' was a friend of mine who just passed away today." I quickly and quite awkwardly offered my condolences. This was followed by some more uncomfortable silence and one of the quickest "check please?" requests that you will ever see.

Besides feeling a little bad about the incident, my drive home was spent thinking of how I personally would have attempted to capitalize on being given such a fortunate name. Here are a few I came up with:

(NOTE: No disrespect whatsoever is intended to Mr. Aschen, may he rest in peace. I just really love the name)

1. I could start a blog called “Ladies: Seymour Aschen every night!”

2. My prom sales pitch to girls: Seymour Aschen at the prom!

3. I could break up with a girl by saying “Sorry but you will Sey(no)mour Aschen” or “No more Aschen for you”

4. A girl could leave another guy to be with me (haha) after saying: “I’m sorry but I’m all about Sey(ing)mour Aschen”

5. I would have been able to have had the following exchange with my middle school literature teacher:

Miss Levine: (during roll call): Seymour Aschen?
Me: As usual Miss Levine
Miss Levine: See me after class
Me: It would be my pleasure

Tales of an Insomniac

By singerz

Most of you don’t understand what life is like on the dark side. I am referring to life as an insomniac. Some pretty strange things can occur while lying in bed and trying to sleep between the hours of 3am and 6am. Here are some of the classics that I hope many of you will never have to experience but that I deal with on a near-nightly basis.

The Car Alarm
This is something that never ceases to amaze me. I really want to meet the guy who came up with the actual noises that the car alarm makes (actually, no I don’t. He’s probably really loud and annoying. His friends must say- Frank! Jesus man, its 2am, stop making rhythmic noises and alternating excessively loud sounds every 6 seconds outside of my window). The alarm drives me crazy- shoot me (don't really, please).

The Hopeful Noise
This can come in many forms and its simply a noise that leads me to believe that someone is awake in my apartment at this late hour. Example: I think I hear a creak outside of my room. “Brian? (excitedly) Brian? Is that you? Are you up? (getting really excited now) Want to talk? Are you up? Hello? Hows work? Want to chat? (then realizing its just the pipes creaking) *%#& you, you sleeping bastard.”

The IM sign on
Who the hell is up and IMing at 4am, you ask? The answer, my friends, is that guy who I haven’t talked to since camp in 1989. But I’m desperate for human contact, and so let the games begin:
Zev: Yo.
Camp Guy: Who the hell is this?
Zev: Its me, Zev, from camp.
Camp Guy: Camp? Which camp?
Zev: Remember, the all-boys strange religious camp we went to in ’89?
Camp Guy: Ummm, sort of.
Zev: So anyway, whats up? Anything new?
Camp Guy: Since 1989? Yes, a few things are new.
Zev: I have time.

Numbers Games
My dad always tells me that when I can’t sleep, I should play numbers games in my head. For example, he tells me to break down numbers to their factors to see if they are prime numbers. There are a few problems with this strategy: a) it’s not fun b) it’s really weird c) I can’t get past 19 (and yes, 19 is a prime number, stop doing the math before you hurt yourself).

Blog checking
Did someone post another comment? Did I read that comment yet? Is Anonymous poster still a dick?

I’m always open to ideas. For example, last night I found out that a minute on my cell-phone is really 61 seconds while a minute on my alarm clock is a little less than 60 seconds. Amazing, truly amazing and interesting. Please do not ask me how many minutes I watched go by on the clock to figure this out (the correct answer is 82).

G’night all, I’m off to bed. And maybe sleep. Probably not.

Questions

By Mink

Some questions that have been on my mind recently:

1. Why do girls sound much sexier when they have hoarse voice? My friend came over and had a small bout of laryngitis and I was loving every second of her visit. I told her to make sure stay away from any hot drinks or sucking candies.

2. Why is there no word "ept" or "whelmed" in the language? You would think that being the opposite of inept or overwhelmed would warrant its own word.

3. Why as a Baltimore Orioles fan am I starting to feel like a battered wife (For the record I'm obviously not claiming to know what that feels like and domestic violence is a terrible terrible thing)? Well this one I can answer. We are constantly beaten and humiliated yet for some reason we keep running back; deluding ourselves that the bleeding will have to stop because we love them.

4. Why do some people think its OK to respond negatively to the question "hey how are you?"
I mean if you get anything besides a "good and you?" response then you have to brace yourself for an unbargained- for life saga where you willlikely say "I'm sorry to hear that" and without a doubt you will mean those words while sounding sympathetic at the same time.

5. How is it possible that a show that regularly comes up with genious ideas such as this pic below is never watched and is therefore getting cancelled?
Oh this picture isn't funny? That's because you are a TV snob who only watches reality shows, Sex and the City reruns, and just started getting into Seinfeld becasue the DVD came out a couple years ago and you decided it was ok to laugh even if it was too jewish and too new york....Anyway if you are fighting the good fight here is some info you may be interested in......


http://news.yahoo.com/s/eo/20051208/en_tv_eo/17931; _ylt=AgqRCGwLhc4AFZdCku3fCXcEtbAF; _ylu=X3oDMTBiMW04NW9mBHNlYwMlJVRPUCUl

The Story of a Manicure

By singerz

I am a chronic nail-biter. Those of you who know me, know that I bite my nails like they are the last remaining pig-in-blanket at a smorgasbord. And so recently, thinking that if my nails were cleaned up a little and shinier I would have incentive not to bite, I decided to get a manicure.

I went with a female friend of mine to her salon in midtown Manhattan. FIRST MISTAKE. Big window in the salon, right on 6th Avenue, everyone could see me sitting there drying my nails like a little girl. It was funny. For them. Not for me.

So I walk in, and the lady takes one look at my nails and yells “Ewww. These disgusting. Yong, come look, disgusting nail man want manicure.” SECOND MISTAKE: Letting Yong give me a manicure. Little did I know at the time, Yong was an expert at the ancient art of maximizing cuticle-ripping pain.

Yong starts the manicure, and I lose 3.6 pints of blood through my hands. I’m sitting there with more blood on me than a vampire at a nude beach. Yong is clipping away, and my friend is laughing hysterically. But its good, Yong is cleaning up my nails. And then… the hand massage begins. THIRD MISTAKE: Moaning with pleasure during the hand massage. Unlike a full-body or back massage, I guess its bad hand massage etiquette to make noise. But it was excellent either way. I’ve never had a hand massage and the thought has never appealed to me, but this was glorious.

Finally, Yong finishes and I go to sit by the window with my hands under the nail-dryer, in the least masculine pose humanly possible, staring out into the street. And then I feel hands on my shoulders and jump. “No massage?” I am asked by a cohort of Yong’s. Massage? Yes, yes, massage! Definitely massage! I reply, a little too eagerly. This time, the sounds I make are socially acceptable. I leave the parlor a happier, albeit more effeminate, young man.

Needless to say, I only lasted a week before beginning to bite again. My shiny nails were gone in 17 seconds, record time. FOURTH MISTAKE: Biting nail-polished nails. Nasty. Tastes like shampoo flavored cottage cheese (not the good tasting kind of shampoo).

So now I understand a little more about why girls like this stuff. It’s not just about looking pretty - its about the experience, the massages, the blood, the Yong. FIFTH MISTAKE: Sharing this story with the entire world-wide-web (or at least the 9 people who read the blog).

Fun in the Snow

By Mink

So this week we have really gotten our first little sprinkling of frozen dandruff from the heavens. As I'm sure it does with a lot of you snow really has a warm place in my heart. I immediately associate it with school cancellations, hot chocolate, and Maculay Culkin's heartfelt reunion with the family that he made dissapear. Here are some of my favorite snowtime activities and memories:


The Snow Angel: The idea is to lay in the snow as you swing your arms and legs back creating an angelic looking impression in the snow. Am I doing something wrong? cuz mine always comes out looking more like a "snow tall-awkward man."

The Yellow Snow: Given the right circumstances everyone enjoys the thrill of the outdoor pee. Think about it all the shirts they make that say "I peed off niagra falls" or"I made the shallow end warm at Scott's Bar Mitzvah Pool Bash" (ok maybe they only made the latter one for me but you get the point). Anyway combine that great outdoor thrill with some pure white natural flakes, and I promise you, that you will impress all the kids in the neighborhood

The Snowball Fight: It's all fun and games till someone gets snow in their ear. I'm still traumatized by the sneak attack direct snow -to- face rubdowns.

Snow Skinny Dipping: For some reason the neighborhood gang never wanted to come outside when the brother and I played this way.

Snow Eating: Plain snow is wonderful but there is nothing better than the maple-syrup snow combo. A close second place goes to the iceicles from the bottom of cars which also make a fantastic icy treat. The issue with the ice-icle is how many hours or days after the fresh snowfall will you still eat them?I had a friend who prided himself as the kid who ate the iceicles even after they turned a blackish/brown shade with a heavy salty kick.

Sledding: Always was more of a disaster when the snowstorm would coincide with the olympics as I would attempt stunts such as, "the headfirst sled luge race" and "sled skiing"

(NOTE: My most tragic olympic imitation came when i attempted to mimic a kristi yamaguchi triple axel during an ice storm in 92 and had a busted lip for the rest of the winter.)

Weekend Adventures and Journeys

By Singerz and Mink

Dearest Friends,
Oh, what a glorious weekend it has been. Here are the highlights:

Friday:

4PM: Check in for the blog convention in Zev’s bedroom.

5PM: Zev gets impatient since no one has arrived and begins to devour the muffins from the spread buffet, intended for the blog orientation members.

6:15PM: At a dinner party at the Upper West Side, Zev and Mink continue to self-promote their blog and get reprimanded by a hairy Russian man for drinking all of his vodka.

9:00PM: The search begins for the infamous “Anonymous” blog poster. Mink takes Manhattan and Staten Island, Zev hits Brooklyn, Queens, and the Bronx.

9:41PM: False alarm after Mink thinks he has spotted “Anonymous,” but realizes the homeless man he has just questioned has been going by the name Anonymous since he lost his ID in 1986.

Saturday:

3:10AM: We reconvene at a birthday party after our fruitless search has concluded. After a short while, we give up and go home after “We started a blog” fails miserably as a pickup line.

5AM: Zev, unable to sleep (as usual), breathes loudly in bed. Mink awakes, and asks Zev to dress for a prompt 5:15AM “State of the Blog” board meeting.

7PM: The boys wake up for the day.

10PM: Mink heads to the ‘burbs to visit his little cousins who don’t really like him and Zev binges upon inhuman amounts of pizza.

11:45PM: Zev and Mink physically removed from posh NYC club, being told V-neck undershirts are not appropriate club attire

Sunday:

2PM: Zev and Mink have an awkward moment walking down 72nd street when Zev inadvertently holds Minks hand for a brief moment as he is swinging his arms (whether you admit it or not, we’ve all been there).

8PM: Mink goes on date. Fun time, except in the middle, unbeknownst to his date, he runs to the bathroom to vomit. Not because of the date, but because of the combination of heavy Moroccan food and blog-posting stress. He returns from the bathroom as if nothing has happened (true story).

10PM: With help of expert webmaster, photographer and entertainment expert, Levi-Son, the Garbage Dump holds its first photo shoot. See below:

Proudly showing off our V-garb:

Zev blogging and Mink there for some weird moral support:

The boys after a long and tiring night of blogging:

Hope you guys had as meaningful and inspirational weekends as we did at our convention.

Love,

Singerz and The Mink

Life's Simple Pleasures

By Mink

This evening I left the Baltimore Jewish Community Center pretty despondent after blowing an 18 point second half lead to a bunch of Russian thugs. Things got so bad in the game that I almost came to blows with an idiot who mimicked my plea for a foul call.

But it doesn't take too much to get me excited and a couple things that followed the game really cheered me up:

1. I got one of those "pull-through spots" at barnes and nobles (You know, the ones where you pull in and lo and behold the spot in front is open as well.)The ability to drive away without having to back out is really all that anyone can ask for out of a parking spot. So if I get one of those in a given week I am very satisfied.

2. Zev emailed me the link to the new Borat website. Apparently after another Sasha Cohen (Ali G) as Borat performance at the European MTV awards, the foreign minister of Kazahkstan lashed out on Mr. Cohen's act and even suggested a political conspiracy:

"We do not rule out that Mr. Cohen is serving someone's political order designed to present Kazakhstan and its people in a derogatory way. We reserve the right to any legal action to prevent new pranks of the kind. We view Mr. Cohen's behaviour at the MTV Europe Music Awards as utterly unacceptable, being a concoction of bad taste and ill manners which is completely incompatible with ethics and civilized behaviour."-Yerzhan Ashykbayev, Kazakh Foreign Ministry Spokesman"


You guys have to hear Sasha Cohen's response which can be heard on this website http://www.borat.kz/ ........priceless


Have a great weekend all, I will be in the big apple at Zevies where we will have our blogger photoshoot and premier party.

Subway Etiquette

By Singerz

Last night, I was waiting for the subway and trying to see down the tracks if the train was coming. (We all do this. Its fruitless, it doesnt help me to know the train is coming, but there is just something warm and comforting about seeing those two glorious headlights down the track.) Anyway, my view down the tracks was blocked by some guy leaning all the way over so no one down the platform could see past him. I cursed in my head. I was going to curse aloud, but he was a big man.

In any case, there is a judge and a jury. Also, I was inspired to write about subway etiquette. Some dos and donts that should be written in stone:

DO: Hold the pole when the train is moving and youre standing up
DON'T: Lick your hand, sneeze, wipe your child's ear wax, wipe a stranger's ear wax, and then rub and hug the pole like youre a stripper

DO: Step toward the middle of the train when other people are getting on
DON'T: Lunge your body full force and headlong into a packed train, thinking "theres always room for one more"

DO: Be nice and courteous to people when they ask you for directions
DON'T: Tell the guy asking for money that you don't believe him that his house burned down and that he should just get a freakin job

DO: Buy a newspaper from the "New York Times, fiFTY ceNTS" guy if you want to read
DON'T: Buy a single cigarette from that weird guy, no matter how bad you need a smoke

DO: Try to be clean on the subway, minimizing BO for the benifit of others
DON'T: Do your personal grooming on the subway (and that includes pluckings and shavings)

DO: Move your bag out of the way if it is hitting someone
DON'T: Scratch your nose when the big-bossomed woman is 2 inches from you (I can tell you this from personal experience and a black eye)

DO: Start a blog if you have really weird thoughts in your head
DON'T: Start a blog if you start running out of funny things to say