Sign of the Times

Here in New York City, you’ll see wry humor without even looking for it. Look:

Eisenberg’s Sandwich Shop
Fifth Avenue at 22nd Street

If I ran Eisenberg’s, I would strongly suggest the sandwich be ordered on toast, because, really, that’s pretty much what the governor is now. *cue Campbell’s Chunky Soup-size canned laughter*
Never let it be said that I shy away from addressing topical items.

0 thoughts on “Sign of the Times

  1. Today, as part of my job, I met a woman who was born 36 years ago on February 29th. Without inducing labor or any medical processes to speed or delay delivery, this 9-year-old today delivered a healthy baby boy. Both mommy and baby boy leapettes are doing well.
    Now, a lighter note…
    On a dare in my misspent college days, I actually tried doing a pecadillo whilst on Spring Break in Texas. But those leathery shells really pinch.

  2. I admit, I had to look up “peccadillo.”
    One of the definitions was:
    “Child of a dominant mother, victim of a guilt-ridden conscience, [St. Augustine] wrote bewilderingly haunted ‘Confessions,’ in which infantile peccadilloes like stealing apples and adolescent fumblings with instinctive sexuality are bewailed with all the anguish of a frustrated perfectionist.”
    Ds, when you were in college, I wasn’t even in kindergarten.

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