Brooklyn and Outer Brooklyn. I must have one of these. I MUST.
B. This morning I was iPod-less on the R train and so had to experience my fellow commuters aurally. Usually this is terrible. Today it was mildly delightful because I got to overhear that the owners of Bogota, one of my favorite restaurants in the Slope proper are not actually Colombian.
Woman: “Oh no?”
Man: “I do some work for them – one of them is half Colombian, half Palestinian, the other is Greek and Costa Rican”
I heart NY.
III. A sign on the aforementioned R train today was advocating for eye donation, which I think is a worthy cause. Unfortunately maybe the copyeditor already donated theirs because it contained the following sentence:
Arrange to donate your eyes when you renew your drivers license this year
Now iff’n I donate my eyes, there’s not much point in renewing my driver’s license, is there?