It's just this little chromium switch, here... (derspatchel) wrote,
It's just this little chromium switch, here...

000. Those Axe deodorant ads currently infesting the Harvard Square T stop have got to go. I've seen smug ads before, but never have I had ads actually go "nyer" at me while I wait on the platform. It's a pity and a shame laws regarding truth in advertising exist, because it would be simpler if these posters would just forego any clever attempts at innuendo ("This is not a tunnel of love", "The subway poles are not for dancing") and instead scream, in big block letters, "HEY GANG IF YOU TRY THIS PRODUCT YOU WILL HAVE SEX!" I'm a big fan of taking things to their literal extreme. Makes life much easier.

001. I'd hope the MBTA was getting oodles of money for these full-on station ad conversions (Downtown Crossing's been Nothin But iPods! for months now) but it doesn't appear that way. While the T has graciously staved off a fare hike they threatened would come in 2007, they are going ahead and axing the Nite Owl bus service, which existed to let people get home after, say, 1 AM on the weekends. With the abolishment of the Nite Owl, Boston will be officially (and I say this without hyperbole, folks, studies have been done) the Worst City for Late-Night Transit in America. Even Atlanta, who rolls up the sidewalks at 1:30 AM, will be beating us. O Atlanta! O the shame! And they're not even trying! Meanwhile construction on the $750 million unholy spawn of an albatross and a white elephant, otherwise known as the Silver Line, continues apace.

010. In refusing a bid to have a carnival at Assembly Square, Alderman William Roche argued "The location is on the Orange Line, so you're not just getting people from Somerville. You're getting different people of different backgrounds." I can understand others' concerns for gang violence (ever been to Good Times on a weekend night?) but honestly, insinuating that "different people of different backgrounds" aren't from Somerville, the City of Polyglots, is not only incredibly ignorant, but tacky to boot. And what's wrong with difference, Roche-Boy? (By the way, I'm totally sure it's the Somerville elite who are gonna be flockin left and right to those Christmas Tree Shops once they open at Assy Square.)

011. My aunt and uncle mailed me a very nice present; a bottle of homemade red wine they'd been keeping for me since 2001 or so. Perry's been homebrewin since I can remember, but this is the first time he branched out into grapey stuff. I am unwilling and unable to present El Wino Snobbo's opinion on the whole thing, but I can say that A. it is red and B. it don't taste horr'ble, so that means C. I like it. That's all that counts, really. I drank a toast to them for being so nice and thoughtful, and then I drank a toast to the cat, who was busy doing something he shouldn't. Then I drank a toast to Martha because she hadn't had one yet, and I drank a toast to me for drinking all these toasts.

100. I've been drinking a lot of toasts tonight. Let me know if you want one, too!
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