on snow, re: tom re: jen, from the black table's weekly ratings -

Okay, in sitting on the subway in balmy September they seemed harmless. Oh ho, how droll: here the ice is for your drink. I get it! Learn the value of a sand dollar! But U.S. Virgin Islands Tourism Bureau: this is not funny anymore. Do you imagine that the R train is packed with confused rich people in furs, burning money to keep warm, thinking, "Well, I have all the money in the world and can jaunt away to anywhere I please for an unlimited amount of time, but I just can't imagine where on planet Earth it is warm while the Northern hemisphere is cold!" Seriously, U.S. Virgin Islands, it is so fucking cold here. We spend our rent money boozing away the frostbite. We have four different sweaters on under this coat. We won't voluntarily go outside until May. I swear to god, everyone who has the means to "schedule an appointment with a palm tree" evacuated this sub-zero hellhole back in November, so please just stop taunting us. If you take down these ads, I promise, I'll quit bitching about Poetry in Motion for the rest of my life. F-

(audrey ference)

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