html xmlns:og='http://ogp.me/ns#' xmlns:expr='http://www.google.com/2005/gml/expr'> Lounging at the Waldorf: One of Us

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Wednesday, January 6, 2016

One of Us

Yeah, Tyler. You a straight gangster. Ever since you came here after running away from that prison of a boarding school upstate, it's like you were raised on the streets.

"Fuck Millbrook!" you shouted from the deck of your loft style apartment.

You're a psycho, Tyler. You're one of us now.


I heard you told the headmaster he had the personality of a supermarket foie gras and the relevancy of AOL. Damn, Tyler! You know how to take a bitch down piece by piece. You're a surgeon. Like your mom.

You ride the J train. You carry your own luggage. You date a freckly Catholic from Queens who was raised sharing a bathroom. O'Malley? O'Connor? Oh, snap, she went to a state college! Does your dad know?

Yo, yesterday when I saw you get down with a steak burrito from Chipotle, I thought, "Tyler. Is. Crazy." You know the dangers, my ninja! E.coli. Salmonella.

"Ain't no, thang," you said, wiping sour cream off your chin.

It's like you got a death wish, son. But I got your back, Tyler. Like I said, you one of us, now.


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