In Which Our Hero Tries to Earn Enough Money to Flee the Country Again
Fueled by a long night of smoking crack, we're sitting around in a rage, twitching, getting ready to jump into our Gowanus war canoes with our Uzis and show those real worlders some genuine Brooklyn hospitality, Red Hook old school stylee. Honestly? My sense is the usual plasticine good-looks of the smiley, dopey, grumpy and slutty "contestants" that have undoubtedly been typecast for this exciting moment in television history (who knew "The Real World" was still being produced, after all these decades?) are going to blend right in to the Van Brunt hipster patrol, and we'll scarcely know they are here. It's the mooks following them around with video cameras and jostling us with their boom poles as we try to buy our lattes who are going to be really annoying.I hope the baristas at Baked weren't stupid enough to sign releases without collecting a nice fat check first... the same goes for all our friends who sling hash at the Fork and the Diner, not to mention the grocery baggers at Fairway. I'd like to see an entire episode shot at the bus stop, while MTV's twentysomethings wait desperately for the B77, and all the while the methadone troglodytes try to make friends with them. Now, that would be reality TV!
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