Through and through, no doubt about it, 'til the day I'm gone and even then—I'm a hip-hop head. The beat caught me early, and it was and it wasn't a choice. The not a choice part: when a track is good it's good—your body knows before you do. The choice part: it was the early 90s and I was a little shorty scanning the twenty-five cent CDs on offer at a suburban New Jersey garage sale. I pulled two jewel cases from the pile that caught my eye: some shit by Amy Grant and Naughty by Nature's 19Na...

I. last month during a press conference on live television Andrew Cuomo said wear a mask, it’s state law. then slid two elastic loops over either ear, pulled the papery rectangle down, hooked it around his chin and asserted: this is nothing I don’t know what this is. this is like a form of a chin guard. it accomplishes nothing. II. the one-liner bio on Andrew Cuomo’s Twitter account reads: father, fisherman, motorcycle enthusiast, 56th Governor of New York. in that order. in addition to overs...

Ohshit, so you mean like Snooki? Like those housewives? Like big Tony, like fucking garbage fucking everywhere? Like like? Yeah, something like that. Or more like short sequin skirts on funnel-cake summer nights and the kind of how you doin’eh that feels like a ladle of warm tomato-basil sauce in your stomach when you hear it. More like cat calls on every corner and the Path shimmy to and from the city—its faint bouquet of urine, booze, and bagel. The subway stop announcements like scratched ...