Hey Williamsburg, I don't burn you for existing.

Yesterday I spent my day off at the Brooklyn Brewery doing "research." First of all, Blast, a double IPA in their Brewmasters Reserve series totally kicked my ass. It was the best double IPA I've ever had, and two of them made me and my friend Sarah drunk for EIGHT HOURS. We're such girls!

Now to complain about Williamsburg, the neighborhood the brewery is in. While I was smoking outside, next to the BMW's, a stupid blond waspy woman and her pasty boyfriend walked past me and coughed on purpose to make me feel like an asshole. I almost went Jersey City on her ass, and restrained myself from shouting, "Fuck you, you stupid blond cunt. I don't burn you with cigarettes for existing!" And then I'd guiltily wimper, "I'm trying to quit."

By the way, I'm going to try to quit smoking again. For serious this time. I got a book and I'm ordering a vapor cigarette. Expect mood swings and disproportionate emotional reactions.