An Obnoxious Whiny Slob Complains About Not Being Able to Find an Apartment-by me

X doesnt exactly mark the spot. In this case it's the fire-truck red, cat's asshole, that is Brownsville

it took me about 20 minutes to settle on a name for this particular blog. I finally feel like I’m doing this article justice.

My days have been full of work, and my nighta, consumed by apartment cunting, I mean hunting, excuse me. It’s just that my inbox is full of people offering me “It’s a really beautiful apartment in Brownsville, just 900 a month, unfurnished.” It’s not that I don’t appreciate you taking the time to reach out to me, and respond to my ad, but I think if I say “student/intern/m/21 $600″ there are multiple indicators there telling you I’m a broke mother-fucker. And you know what else? I don’t want to live in Brownsville. Nobody wants to live in Brownsville. Chances are, if you’ve posted an Ad on Craigs List for a room/apartment in Brownsville, you’re subletting your own place so you can GTFO.

Quick story: A friend of mine told me this. A few years ago, this bodega owner kept complaining to his landlord that he was hearing these obscenely loud, racketing noises,  coming from above his store. The landlord, assuming the Bodega owner was just being naggy, and he himself being kind of a prick, didn’t really do anything about it. A few days later, the store gets broken into. Turns out the Crips had moved in upstairs and they sawed a hole in the fucking floor of the apartment, to get into the store.

I don’t know if that’s a true story or not, but I kind of hope it is. I mean, Brownsville/Bvile, regardless of the authenticity of that story, isn’t a great place, and wishing that story away wouldn’t make it any nicer, and how cool would it be if it actually happened? The 9 year old inside of me -wait, let me rephrase that.. My inner 9 year old is thrilled with the idea of being able to cut through a wall to steal plantain chips, guava paste, and adobo (the 3 big sellers at every bodega.) it’s so very Wile E. Coyote. And maybe it was just me, but I always thought that the Road Runner was the prickiest protagonist in a cartoon. that is, besides this asshole:
via facefunk

But maybe I just hate the Road Runner because I see a bit of myself in him.. always running…. always running … ANYWAY

I guess you could say I’ve been busier than usual. The usual = watching tv = nothing = moments of clarity. Considering I watch a lot of tv, I have to say I’ve been awfully confused lately, with all this work. One day this NYC intern is gunna get paid….ANYWAY+1

well, I’m giving up on everything for now. I need a moment of clarity. But before I go, tonight,  I want to raise my glass to Brownsville. If it wasn’t for your high crime rates, and ironic namesake (just kidding Brenna), I honestly wouldn’t have had dippity dog shit to talk about today (besides meeting with an authentic, actually, knows his shit blogger, at work, but that’s a seperate blog). So, here’s to you Brownsville. Cheers!

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One response to “An Obnoxious Whiny Slob Complains About Not Being Able to Find an Apartment-by me

  1. Ok I am going to make you move in with me (not really me but I have three empty bedrooms) before you move to Brownsville. And thank you, dear NYCifyouare, for recognizing the difference between irony and coincidence. That is a pretty interesting coincidence though.

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