Ok wait. Stop. I just, I can't. I can't do this yet. I have to say something.
Pemulis: please note I value you not only as a friend and butt buddy, but also as a journalistical blogospheric engineerist. But what the hell does the title of this thing mean?
I mean, most of it is fine:
Dr. Pemulis' Good Time Family Subway Solution
Dr. Pemulis' (didn't know you got your PhD, but whatevs, congrats)
Good Time (always, fo sho)
Maybe it's just me but I don't see what problem is being solved by bitching about mouth breathing...but I'll stop. 90% of our readership (read: Pemulis) probably stopped reading this by now because this post is supposed to be about the subway...
Let's fuckin' dance.
How I imagine tall people see the world. ::sigh::
So this is what the subway generally looks like during "rush hour," which consists of the hours that all us good little worker ants go to work, and the hours when we return home to scrape our pipes for marijuana resin, drink PBR (non-ironically; I'm just that poor) and play video game baseball for 6 hours before we realize it's past midnight, we haven't eaten and we smell like shit (maybe this isn't "we," maybe just me. Whatever. Fuck you.).
You're standing there, kinda squished, minding your own business, listening to Gasolina by Daddy Yankee and trying to sing along to the words even though you don't speak Spanish (sumo-lay-mambo-pakka-me-gotta-Pringles-low-mow-Torres!!!). All of a sudden, you feel a push, followed shortly after by a frustrated "Excuuuuse me." You turn around, and to your surprise, here comes a dumb motherfucker trying to climb over dozens of people to move through the subway car...FOR NO FUCKING REASON.
Listen. If the subway car you are in looks like this: