my name is all over Long Island City

All over my neighborhood there are these graffiti tags that say “Stu.” Which on one hand makes me wanna be like,”Woah – I did not do that, officer!”

But on the other hand it makes me feel like I own Long Island City, which is pretty cool. I don’t mind owning all of the buildings and streets and cars that go by – I relish the power. People walk down the streets because I allow them to, not because they chose to do so. I let them take the train because I’m a good guy. I own that shit, but I’m humble about it. People bow down to me, but I’m cool about it. One time a man in a raggedy coat knelt down in the trash outside my apartment and I was like, “Oh no it’s totally fine, don’t worry about it.”

But a few weeks ago I noticed a new tag that as put up right next to one of mine. One that says “Randy.” And all of a sudden, more and more “Randy’s” are showing up all over Long Island City. Which makes me feel like I should be watching out for a guy named Randy. Who also lives in Long Island City. Because I feel like one day well just run into each other on the street and I’ll be like, “ARE YOU RANDY?!”

And he’ll be like, “YEAH!! ARE YOU STU?!”

And I’ll be like, “YEAH!!”

And then he’ll be like, “I’m a comic and my graffiti joke is better than yours! You didn’t even consider it from my perspective. Think of how much better the joke would be if you knew that we were both comics. You could say things like, ‘Mannnn, a comic will do anything for some free publicity!’ or ‘We should have been writing our jokes and twitter handles on the wall.'”

And I’ll be like, “Shit. You’re right. I am a pretender to this throne. Long Island City is yours.”

And he’ll be like “Nah dude, whatever.” Cuz we’re just regular dudes, neither of whom actually put up those tags.

I wish I also had a picture of a Randy tag.

 

The featured image was taken literally right outside my apartment. If you liked this post, please like and share below! You can also follow the blog through Twitter, Facebook, or by joining my mailing list.

i like diggin’ holes

I had an awesome childhood, I’ve been told. I don’t really remember any of it. The only thing that I remember about my childhood is that I really like to dig holes. I would grab a shovel, go outside, and dig holes in my backyard all day while my brother and sister sat inside reading and furthering their education. My mom would try to get me to read books all the time. She’d be like, “Stu, don’t you want to read a book like your brother and sister?” And I’d be like, “No. I’m busy can’t you see I gotta go dig this hole!” She’d be like, “Why? What are you gonna put in it?” And I’d be like, “I donno, books? That’s not the point!”

See, she didn’t understand me. I thought that digging holes was something that people just did. I grew up in Illinois where there are all these rock quarries all over the place and you’d drive by them on the highway all the time and there’d be these huge pits thousands of feet deep. And I never thought that anybody was digging them for any particular reason, I just thought they were better at it than I was. I was like, “These people are professionals. These people understand me.”

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