"Yeahhh… well (pause) the problem I think I’m having with it (pause) right now (strokes chin) is that it looks a bit like poop."- My creative director, on some drawings of some airbags. Flatiron, NYC.
"I just couldn’t find it in myself to let him penetrate me at that time." -My friend, on her hook up. Chelsea, NYC.
"I’m fuckin’ Korean. I don’t know who you are!"-My partner, on Casey Affleck. Midtown, NYC.
"I wanna fuck you hard in the sink, after that give ya somethin’ ta drink."-Kanye West, on love. Barclays center, Brooklyn NY.
How to get old.
Do: everything you’re supposed to.
Take: only what’s in front of you.
Love: only who loves you back.
How to grow old.
Kiss: the girl.
Write: the book.
Go: the long way.
I hope that everyone understands the ridiculousness of the idea that there is any such thing as “men’s” or “women’s” shampoo, that women’s faces inherently need to be covered up with make up because they are naturally uglier than men’s faces, that there is any such thing as “correct grammar” or “real words”, that there is any such thing as “breakfast foods” or “dinner foods”. For crying out loud.
When you do things a little differently, everyone will tell you you’re wrong. Everyone will tell you you’re silly, everyone will give you a tirade of perfectly rational reasons why not to. It’s become very obvious to me though, that if you’re pissing off at least two people, you probably have a very, very good idea on your hands.
It’s true that New Yorkers walk faster than people in other cities. It’s true that they love leather, and black, and coffee, and money, and that all these things are situationally determined. Leather, of course, for it’s durability on the subway. Black, because it goes easily from day to night and you don’t have time to take the subway 6 stops up to change clothes before your post-work pre-dinner gin and tonic. The coffee thing is because there are literally more hours in the average New York day that you have to stay awake for, and the love of money is because you have to love money to be able to afford to live here (also who doesn’t love money?) Though perhaps a lesser known but equally as true and situational fact about New Yorkers, is that they use the Eff word better than anyone else in the world.
This is partially because “Fuck” is the most perfect word in the english language (honorable mentions: “cellar door” and “Logarithm”). It is also because the word “Fuck” has the ability to describe just about everything, and well, New Yorkers need a word like this because everything is currently happening in New York and it all needs describing all the time.
Somewhere on this Island someone is fucking. I guaranfuckingtee it.
You can give a fuck, know a fuck ton, be a fucker and fuck off, and oh look! A flying fuck! Those suckers even got wings!
The average New Yorker uses this word an average of 5.6 times a day and hears this word an average of 12.2, it’s science. Fucking science.
Fucking cabbie, fuckin’ coffee, fuckin’ tourists, fuckin’ L train. Hay lady look at the fucking sign you’re on the fucking wrong side of the fucking road! Hobo stole my money, Motherfucker.
A lot of it’s use is in the inflection too. If you’re naked in a bed with a lady and she drops an F bomb, congratulations, good sir.
If a few weeks later she’s in the bathroom with a pending pregnancy test and she effs, well, that’s a fuck of a different color.
And this is why I love the eff word: because it is simultaneously the most descriptive and vague word that we’ve yet to dream up, and because it denotes the moments in life that are most life-like. This god-send, this little four letter one syllable exclamatory tool that stands by us, loaded and at the ready in all of our greatest moments of triumph and loss and confusion and eccentricity and electricity and magic, just waiting to be sorted and dispatched.
Fuck YEAH! FUCK no!
What the fuck? Where the fuck? Who da fucccck?
You stupid fuck. You crazy fuck.
I fucking love you. You’re fucking amazing. Let’s fuck.
Just one money.