Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery






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Monday, April 02, 2007


Lon Gisland

I don't care for Long Island. I'm sorry. I know there are dozens of people who live there and love it. It just doesn't appeal to me. And here's why:

Today, my wife had to go in for some periodontal surgery, a fairly unpleasant procedure in which they ripped the gums off of her teeth, filled her mouth up with insulation and caulk and then wired the whole thing back together. As my wife isn't especially skilled at driving while wiping copious amounts of blood from her chin, I accompanied her to Happauge and then killed time while I waited to drive her home.

There isn't a whole hell of a lot to do in Happauge while waiting for someone to get through periodontal surgery. So I filled a prescription for her. I grabbed a couple of slices of pizza. I stopped by a Starbucks.

Now, in the city, I could have done most of that on the same block. On Long Island, I had to drive to all these places. This is why suburbanites weigh so goddamn much. Ya can't walk. There aren't even any goddamn sidewalks.

Not only did I have to drive, but the roads around there are these obnoxious four lane dealies and you can't turn half the time, so I was constantly having to drive past where I needed to go, make a U-turn and double back. So I gained weight and wasted gas. Yippee!

And so, with apologies to those who choose to live in such a place, I gotta say, I would rather shave my nads with a steak knife than live on Long Island. A dull steak knife.