Observations from Habitat

Yesterday, three half way houses donated twenty six couches to the Habitat ReStore. Twenty. Six. Couches. Some on the third floor.

26. Couches. Third floor.

Oh, did I mention that they were in Schenectady?

26. Couches. Third floor. Schenectady.

I have to admit that I have spent very little time in Schenectady for the better part of a decade.

Is it possible that it got worse?

Let me talk about fashion, Schenectady style?

Yes, that is Lord Humongous.

While I am not saying that the denizens of Schenectady are leather clad survivors of an apocalypse, I am saying that a fashion choice like that may have been a better choice.

Sweat pants are rarely appropriate in the house, they definitively are not acceptable for wearing outside of the house.

Painted on jeans are difficult enough to pull off if you are in splendid shape, if you are not, please refrain from wearing them. Scary.

Yesterday was a nice day, and most of the sidewalks were quite clear, but you wacky scamps in Schenectady made the choice to walk in the middle of the fracking street. What the heck were you thinking? Oh, you weren't. You were ambling around without a care in the world while a big truck was trying to make it down the street. I hate you.

One final thing, and this is a class based observation (not race based) but I find it difficult to determine when certain people (inter-city and tremendous institutional poverty) greet each other if they are happy to see each other or very angry with each other. This is a bit disturbing.

To sum up:

I hate couches and Schenectady. Good luck soon-to-be-Mayor Hull.