New York, New Dork
Yelp, the corn fed, catfish catchin, Chevy drivin lil bro is on a plane as we type, gripping the armrest in his nervous flyer state.
FIRST TIME IN NEW YORK!
I feel a bubble of pride at the fact my brother gets to see his older sister all grow’d up in the big city… Until the fact that central air doesn’t exist and my spacious apartment is anything but, sinks in.
Regardless! I’m stoked for the redneck to get his scrawny ass up here.
But YMWIK, how will you help your lil bro fit in while walking the streets of New York?
I’m glad you asked, and the answer is: I won’t have to.
Thanks to the unoriginality of the hipster movement, my brother’s cowboy boots won’t be looked at twice, his sleeveless T’s will be welcomed by punksters and hipsters alike and the fact he doesn’t bathe won’t be noticed in this stench of a city. I’m kidding, he doesn’t wear cowboy boots.
I’m kidding, he does.
Fine, alright, my brother DOES bathe. He’s at the age they shower…a lot. *wink*
He only has a few days and I’m sure this city holds nothing to the mudding, fishing, Bud drinking life of his hometown but Frankie and I will try to impress him with this nowhere place called The Big Apple. And yes, it should result in blogging gold.