Open Thread

DIBS gives money to young gangstas in his neighbourhood…even when he isn’t getting mugged.

I was mugged right in front of the house DCB looked into, on Gates at St. James, at 6 a.m. on a weekday morning in 1993 on my way to the subway. I fought back but they grabbed my bag and knocked me over and tore my coat. Unfortunately inside the bag was an aquamarine ring from my late mother–the stone had gotten loose and I was going to take it to the jeweler to get re-set. Beautiful ring, beautiful stone, irreplaceable memories. The cops didn’t come for at least 20 minutes. It was the day of the first WTC bombing, when the guy rented a van, filled it with explosives, and drove it into the parking lot. I was depressed–as in thinking about suicide–for a couple of months afterward. Terrible feeling.

Stop all of this ridiculous bravado about where you all lived in NYC that was crime ridden. I live in Bed Stuy….do or die.

Oh, and I put the nutcrackers out on the sofa table.

There will be an extra helping of stuffing for whoever can re-write that sentence the best.

real retro putting French dressing on a wedge.