– We had a work Thanksgiving (Worksgiving?) lunch at the office. I ate a ton of food, including three varieties of meatball. After lunch I read a new Consumer Reports study that discovered basically all meat is now contaminated with antibiotic-resistant superbugs, which are a legit dark horse candidate to wipe out humanity. 80% of the turkey they tested contained superbugs. That’s terrifying. So, minutes removed from shoving meatballs into my face, I decided to return to a mostly vegetarian diet, which I sustained for almost a year when I was 25. Exceptions will be made at nice restaurants or when dietary restrictions would negatively affect a group order.
After work the trains were fucked again because of a police investigation at Canal Street or something, so I waited for 20 minutes for the E, which was supposedly still running but never came, before trekking over to the 7. I’d planned on going to this Grantland retrospective thing in Soho but after my monster weekend and the stupid commute I just couldn’t muster the will to head back into Manhattan. So I camped out in my room and binge watched all 10 episodes of Master of None, the new Aziz Ansari Netflix show, until 1 in the morning. I really liked it, obviously. My favorite parts were anytime Aziz says “Hi!” unexpectedly, and the scene where he does an impression of a ghost koala. And they filmed at places I’ve been in New York, like 169 Bar and ACE Bar and the Metropolitan G train stop.
It feels more like a movie than a TV show, especially if you watch it all in a row. Which makes me wonder, is it actually a TV show? It may never be broadcast on a TV station, and I watched it on my computer. Maybe we need a new name for the stuff that’s getting made on streaming sites these days. Streamers?
After sleepily powering through the final episode, I checked Twitter before going to bed and saw that white supremacists had opened fire on a group of Black Lives Matter protesters outside a police station in Minneapolis, and that the police inside the station had waited 20 minutes to come outside after the shooting, and even then they only emerged to teargas the black folks. The shooters are still at large. So, maybe let’s not worry about renaming TV shows just yet.
Judge My Life 