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Not So Wimpy
I have never understood the infighting between Bushwick and Bedford Stuyvesant— especially when it comes to which neighborhood is “better”. When the mood strikes me I read the latest salvos of nastiness, chuckle to myself and give the matter no more thought. I live in the Garden Spot of the Universe after all, and as such, have much better things to do.
When I bought a bottle of seltzer recently at a bodega in Bed-Stuy my carefully cultivated apathy was summarily shattered. FOREVER.
I didn’t even hear the wearer of this shirt ask me if I wanted a straw. That is how IN AWE my person was at the sight of this shirt. Living in New York City has exposed me to the phenomenon of “thugged out” cartoon character apparel. At first I found them novel and amusing, but as with most things pop culture over-exposure eventually rendered them dull as dishwater.
The Tasmanian Devil wearing a hoodie? *Yawn*
Marvin the Martian wearing gold chains? Stupid.
Fat Albert (doing just about anything)? BOOOOOORING!
But have I seen a sleeveless Wimpy preparing to administer a category five beat down (presumably because someone would not let him pay Tuesday for a hamburger today) on a t-shirt? No, I have not. There is only one word for something like this: genius.
As far as I’m concerned Bushwickers can waste all the breath they want. The fact of the matter is THIS SHIRT KICKS ASS.
And so does Bedford Stuyvesant.
Miss Heather
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