“What The Eff?” Wednesday: Philadelphia, Get To Know Us
Editors Note: This marks my 500th post and clearly I still haven’t even scratched the surface of the weird and wonderful nonsense on the internet. As always, thanks for reading!
Between the Valley Swim Club incident, the sentencing of State Senator Vincent Fumo for corruption and fraud, and the totally-about-to-explode-like-it-does-every-summer murder rate, Philly is kind of in the doghouse with me right now. The liquor stores close at five o’clock on Sundays, there are few if any available men, and New Jersey – the only place with a state smell – is too close for comfort. Lately I’ve given my hometown the benefit of the doubt by focusing on the kindness we show to the crazy people who seem drawn to this city by some wacky magnetic force. For example, check out some happenings in Love Park where the skaters hang out. NSFW language.
We all have that wayward uncle who’d wear an undersized straw hat like that, so we were comfortable right up until “Bella Mafia Quack-a-Fella Records Incorporated by Rhyme Syndicate Three Yellow Men Trillionaire Club.” That moment was the sharp decline into some sort of cracked out Ghostface Killah-esque lexicon, and of course the activation of my personal fight/flight response.
Philadelphia…get to know us.
Thanks to DJ Stylus for sending me such madness.