I live two long blocks from Central Park West, where they blow up the balloons for the fucking Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. And every fucking year I am woken up by fucking helicopters turning around over my 74th Street building as they take pretty TV shots of the fucking balloons. But tomorrow there is a chance, oh please please please, that the fucking balloons will not be in the parade because of high winds.
One other problem? All the fucking Park Slope mommies and daddies infesting the Upper West Side right now so their spawn can see the balloons as they are inflated. With their eight-hundred-dollar strollers. Never seen so many Volvos and Saabs in one place in my life.
Let’s hope the winds are too high for the helicopters to even get off the ground – otherwise they’ll go up just to show you the balloons aren’t there.
Yoda defeats Lord Vader yet again:
“I would end up fielding the [girls'] complaints: ‘Could you please keep your roommate out of our hallway?’” his undergrad roommate at Princeton Craig Mazin told the Daily Beast over the summer. (“I would rather have anybody else be the president of the United States. Anyone,” Mazin added. “I would rather pick somebody from the phone book.”)
But Ted won the Values Voters straw poll! Suppose the Values Voters were standing upwind.