In recent years, the thought (finally?) occurred to me that I might be on the spectrum. I've brought it up in conversation with friends, half-joking-like. "It's a spectrum, we're all on it!" said a friend much more clearly on it than I am. And with my parents, did-you-ever-wonder-like. "I don't think so," their faces saying I'm just kind of an asshole. (Long Island Rap Records been problematic!)
But at least consistent. While other one-weirdo writ-large outlets platform, transitioning to podcasts and other more easily monetized (read: socially acceptable) media, I'm damn near pushing 10 years on a Blogger site. Who else is doing this? Who even runs Blogger at this point? It's no small miracle Google hasn't shut this whole thing down by now, much less rolled it into some more easily monetized product (read: social media acquisition).
But I digress. To those who aren't from Long Island, Long Island is The Hamptons. To those who are from Long Island, The Hamptons is like three hours away. To those who are from The Hamptons ... I don't know what the fuck, this maybe?
Remember the scene in Casino where Nicky (Joe Pesci) tosses Ginger (Sharon Stone) out of his club? After literally dragging her down a flight of stairs by her hair, once he has her out the door, he suddenly restores decorum for the watching feds, as if by muscle memory. "Alright, be careful," he says as she curses him. We quote that scene a lot, my folks and I. As it turns out, we'd added the line, "Get home safe." He never says that. It's like when he has Dogs' head in a vice and says, "Fuck me? Fuck my mother?!" Dogs never said anything about Nicky's mother. He's just an asshole.
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