I love the smell of bus exhaust in the morning!

Top ten reasons why New York is the worst place in America:

1. The whole city smells like piss.

2. In the rest of the country, when fully ambulatory people notice they’re in your way, they generally step aside without hesitation – this is the norm. Your average New Yorker, on the other hand, will stand in the middle of a grocery store aisle, watch as you approach him, and refuse to budge until you come to a complete halt and say, “Excuse me.” I think that transplants from other parts of the country should take their shopping carts and start mowing down the natives, but I’ve yet to convince anyone else to sign on.

3. The New York Dialect is Stupid Part I: New Yorkers can’t ask questions properly. Instead of saying, “She wondered when he would change his shit-stained underwear,” like everyone else in the Anglophone world, New Yorkers say, “She wondered when would he change his shit-stained underwear.” Unacceptable.

4. New Yorkers Relish Confrontation Part I: Someone holds open the door for you as you’re walking out of Starbucks, and you give a nod of appreciation before walking away. What you, the outsider, fail to understand is that to the New Yorker, holding the door for a stranger is a selfless act of kindness on par with donating a kidney. Therefore don’t be surprised if, as you’re walking away, the irate door-holder screams after you, “YOU’RE WELCOME.” Just consider yourself lucky that he didn’t chase you down for a face-to-face. Roughly 1 in 50 will.

5. New Yorkers get most of their information about life between the coasts from the movie, “Deliverance.”

6. New Yorkers Relish Confrontation Part II: You encounter a person you know vaguely by sight, but not by name. Since you really have no idea who this fucker is, you think that if you’re unfortunate enough to make eye contact with him, a little smile will suffice. Not so. New York etiquette dictates that you must greet with great volume and enthusiasm people whose names you not only don’t know, but will never know. Deviate from this etiquette, and this virtual stranger won’t hesitate to give you a good dressing-down. Apparently New Yorkers fail to recognize the irony in combating (perceived) rudeness with rudeness.

7. The Metropolitan Transit Authority (MTA) Sucks Part I: A few weeks ago, I was sitting on a crowded subway train, idling in a station. So there we all were, waiting and waiting and waiting, not with patience per se, but without too much howling and weeping. Finally, a voice came over the PA informing us that our train had in fact been out of service for the past half hour, and would be going nowhere, a fact the MTA hadn’t seen fit to share at any point during the first 30 minutes of our adventure. One disgruntled passenger vowed to punch an MTA employee in the face. I hope he stuck to his word.

8. New Yorkers earnestly believe that visitors and transplants find the city exciting, which is retarded considering they also believe we wouldn’t bat an eye if forced to squeal like a pig while getting anally raped by an inbred psychopath (see # 5). You can’t have it both ways, dickholes.

9. The Metropolitan Transit Authority (MTA) Sucks Part II: I pay $104 a month for the privilege of riding trains and buses in New York City. As recently as 2008 I was paying only $76 a month, but the MTA, strapped for cash as per usual, ups the fares roughly every three days. So given these inflated fares, where is their money going? Obviously not on new trains, or on maintenance, or on cleaning, or on automating announcements, or on setting up stations as wireless hubs; that much is clear. The money goes to salaries, big, fat, bloated salaries. It’s not unusual for rank-and-file MTA employees to be compensated to the tune of $100,000 a year. In this dismal economy, I’m surprised more of them aren’t murdered.

10. The New York Dialect is Stupid Part II: How do you say the word, “radiator?” Well, if you’re one of the 300 million Americans not from New York, the first syllable is pronounced, “ray,” as in “a ray of sunshine.” If you’re one of the 8 million people from New York, the first syllable is pronounced, “rad,” as in “when you were hanging ten out there, it was totally rad.” Whenever a New Yorker says radiator, a little part of me dies.