Talking neighborhoods
By adamg - Sun, 08/31/2008 - 9:03am.
Imagine if Boston neighborhoods and Cambridge could talk:
... Cambridge: Can you keep it down? I'm working on my thesis.
Fenway: Shut up Cambridge, you aren't even part of Boston.
Back Bay: Leave him alone man. At least he has some culture.
Fenway: Oh I'm sorry. Yeah sorry I don't have any culture. Museum of Fine Arts and Symphony and all.
Back Bay: SYMPHONY IS EFFING MINE.
Cambridge: Ugh, guys we've been over this a thousand times. On odd numbered days its yours Fenway, Back Bay gets it on evens. ...
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Nah..
It'd be more like:
Cambridge: Can you keep it down? I'm working on my thesis.
Fenway: Yankees suck!
Cambridge: I ju.. what?
Fenway: Yankees SUCK!
Cambridge: Look, I'm trying to write.
Fenway: Write this, pal: Yankees SUCK! Effin' A!
Cambridge: You realize that the Yankees are from New York?
Fenway: Yeah, where they SUCK! hah.
Even better if you imagine
Even better if you imagine City Hall having the voice of McLovin.
So many left out of the party.
Beacon Hill and City Hall are going to get into a catfight over who wields the most power, until the North End strides in, strapped, and guns them both down, after having left a severed horse head in their beds.
Then Lynn will come in and gun down the North End.
This, of course, is after Beacon Hill had beaten Brookline in a rich-off.
Southie will engage in a lovers' quarrel with Back Bay, since the ICA cheated on the latter, and left it for another neighborhood.
Somerville will stand by idly, pretending to be important, and the West End will stand by even more idly, simply trying to get noticed.
Fenway will drunkenly climb light posts and overturn cars daily in celebration of the local little league team's victory.
It's gonna be a good time!
Warning, possible NSFW language
Warning, possible NSFW language:
Hyde Park: (got to get the ride going) Hand me the fucking half by nine.
FUCKING metric. OK, get the metrics. Fucking American car using fucking metrics. OK, I can handle it.
Need a deep socket 14 or something.
FUCKING METRICS.
Oh, Beacon Hill/downtown. Where the drunks (developmentally disabled/differently creative, for anonymous...)rule the sidewalks and first step or two of the stairs.