For over two months now, my coworkers, family, friends, Starbucks baristas, USPS drivers, and pretty much anyone around me has had to listen to me spew hate on the city of St. Louis. There's no good pizza. You can't even pronounce the word bagel correctly, much less cook one. What the hell is provel cheese and why does it taste like what a condom smells like? You people suck at driving. You're all racist. Especially the cops. Why do I need to go out to the county every time I need to purchase anything? Lose some weight, okay? Jesus, can anyone drive in this city without a cigarette hanging out their window? How in the name of all that is holy can you all actually like this place? Have you ever been anywhere else?
Yesterday, I worked from 7am until 10pm, and except for ten minutes for lunch and an hour at the gym (in the county, of course). During that hour I was at the gym, my parked car was the victim of a hit-and-run drunk driving accident. Strike three. That's it. I fucking had it with this shitty-ass backwards slum of a city. So I started this blog.
Rather than attempt to conquer all of the pure, unbridled shitiness at once, I'm going to have to take it on in chunks. Like the things this city blows. If I do this correctly, even the most hardened St. Louiser who revels in their city, their crappy beer, their racism, and their large girth will see the fallacy of their ways. So welcome to the blog, where I will give everyone an introduction to the truth about the unknown land known as middle Amuricuh.
