
The U.N., where we sleepily wandered around way too early in the morning. Their decor is so dated that it’s almost hip in a vintage kind of way.
(Isn’t it crazy that I took this photo on my phone?)

Sitting in Bryant Part in the rain, thinking of how cool the trees are and how slow of a runner Chris March is.

Anthony Bourdain would be proud.

A trip to the bakery after eating a dream meal — Gnocchi Gorgonzola and Sangria — at a tiny restaurant in Little Italy.

Quantity ain’t quality.
This cookie cost me $2.75 and was worse than those awful, dry pinwheel cookies old people love to munch on.

When I was younger, my parents used to go out every Saturday night, and I could (and would) raid the fridge. One night, they left us some cannoli, which I had never had before. I scarfed them up after eating a mix of taco salad and Merk’s cheese spread.
I threw up. I don’t like cannoli.
Clearly, Drake disagrees.

If anything can cure Gillman from being sick, it’s a brand new Marc Jacobs belt.

Oh yeah.

Blood Brothers.

By the time MSTRKRFT came onstage, it was a sweaty hipster cess pool.
It was pretty much the same as an Urbana basement dance party, only with more people and a hell of a lot more drugs.



The people in the back of the venue were too cool to dance, so they just stood there and watched.
(It was a DJ show.)



A rainy, cold Brooklyn block.
Hopefully, I’ll soon call this place home.
Carlye Wisel: if sarah silverman, stacy london, buster bluth and ari gold had a love child, it would be me.
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