"snif snif.""you know rob, sometimes this city smells like shit."
"you know, sometimes shit smells like this city."
"really." (not stated as a question but as a retort. keep up, will you)
"yeah sometimes i'll find something floating in the bowl and sniff and think, hmmmmmmm, 43rd street."
"nice."
so yeah. it didn't smell so good last night as the lobster and i headed west towards 6th. it's one of those phenomena that is nothing like the maple syrup smell that perplexed us all in october of 2005. it was more of the late season humidity comes home to make everything smell like crap.
or raw sewage.
or corpses.
or...well...you get the idea.
anyway it followed me all the way back to the thorough borough and all the way to the airport (both times mind you). you'd think the dog days of summer were gone because it's cooler out but it just cooler out. the dog is still out there, making the bastard sweat. and he don't like it. bad dog. BAD DOG!
—the bastard
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