my brain is made of glitter
Hi! I'm Giulia Rozzi and this is my blog.
More about me here.
Also, follow me on Twitter, connect with me on Facebook & play dress up with me on Pinterest.com
Hi! I'm Giulia Rozzi and this is my blog.
More about me here. Also, follow me on Twitter, connect with me on Facebook & play dress up with me on Pinterest.com
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Not only did they take up multiple seats, they also left that empty Pop Tarts box.
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If you’re my pal on Facebook, follow me on Twitter (@giuliarozzi, get on it!) or were the recipient of one of my frantic text/emails/phone calls you probably have heard the big news by now: today, I got shit on my hand.
Nope not from a cute baby I was changing or my adorable dog I was walking or even a sick friend I had to help clean up ( I could handle all those things, I’d prefer not to, but can handle those things), I got a strangers shit on my hand. ON MY HAND! Now, I like most people who live in NYC have seen a fair share of gross stuff : a guy jerking off in Union Square, people clipping finger nails and toe nails on the subway, teenagers humping on the subway, lots of nose picking, lots of booger eating, a woman change her baby’s diaper on her table at Applebee’s in Brooklyn, a guy take a crap on the Spring St station platform, plenty of public urination, plenty of public puking, a ray fall out of the ceiling of a pizzeria on St Marks, two Hasidic Jewish men get boners as they watched porn on a iPhone at the ATT store, cockroaches so so so many cock roaches, a drunk girl pee herself in Midtown on St Patrick’s Day, men licking their lips and grabbing their dicks while groaning at the site of a woman in a dress, guys hacking up phlegm and spitting it onto the subway tracks, a guy on the D train rapidly eat 3 yogurts in a row without a spoon, and endless amounts of verbal grossness. Those are all things I’ve seen, today was something I touched. With my skin!!!!!!!!!
It was 2:55pm, I got off the R train at the South Ferry station. As usual I was already mad at the MTA because the MTA is a piece of shit (today quite literally) that re-routed itself without warning on my way to Manhattan from Brooklyn this morning, but that’s nothing new. In an effort to prevent myself from falling as people charged the subway stairs like passengers on a sinking Italian cruise ship, I did the logical thing and grabbed the handrail. And that’s when it happened.
I felt something wet on my left palm. I looked down to see a brown smear. “It has to be chocolate. Someone probably bought a Snickers from one of those annoying 23 year old guys on the subway cars selling candy for his high school basketball team. They ate the candy and got chocolate on their hands then on the railing then on my hand. Right? RIGHT?!”
Wrong.
I smelled my hand hoping to confirm my hypothesis only to be horribly incorrect. It was shit. As in poop. As in dung, feces, crap, manure. Worse, I fear it was from a human.
I did what I often do in the middle of Mahattan, I cried. Then I yelled out loud repeatedly “shit, shit, SHIT!” which of course had double meaning at this point.
I found a bathroom and washed my hands 4 times. Drowned my hand in sanitizer then washed it again and again and again. As I washed it, the song above kept playing in my head (with a few edits)…
If I could tell the world just one thing
It would be that we’re all OK (and I just got SHIT ON MY HAND)
And not to worry ‘cause worry is wasteful
And useless in times like these (Uh I am worried, very very worried)
I won’t be made useless
I won’t be idle with despair (yes I will)
I will gather myself around my faith
For light does the darkness most fear (dark like the shit on my hand)
My hands are small, I know (and covered in shit)
But they’re not yours, they are my own (and not covered in my own shit)
But they’re not yours, they are my own (and not covered in my own shit)
And I am never broken (I’m totally broken. Seriously you guys I might cut off my hand.)..In the end, only kindness matters (like not shitting on subway railings.)
…In the end, only kindness mattersAnyhoo, I hope this never ever happens to you.
I also hope if I know you or meet you we can still high-five.
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OMG I sat across from the cutest cracked out couple on the subway today. I think they were on crack, or drunk, or perhaps just high on true love. I dunno, what drug makes you open and close your umbrella for 40 minutes while loudly mumbling Rhianna lyrics?
The D train was once again not running to Manhattan from Borough Park due to construction. Whatever construction they’ve been doing, it has yet to “improve service” as promised for the past two years. After being re-routed south to go north on the N train, it stalled forcing me to go even further south to Coney Island so I could get north to Manhattan. Long story short, the MTA can be as terrible as it wants because commuters have no choice but to use it.
Luckily these two got on the subway at Sheepshead Bay to keep me entertained during my three hour commute. Ahem, THREE HOURS!
Had I not been trapped on the train I wouldn’t have learned all about cousin Jonny who is in detox, “that skank” Rachel who stole money, and Ricky who “owns like 40 guitars. He’s got like $300,000 to $600,000 worth of guitars. They are like signed by Aerosmith and stuff.”
Somewhere around Dekalb Avenue, this gal decided she HAD to sit on her fellas lap. When she dropped a pen cap and screamed “pick it uuuuup!” he swooped down and rescued it while still balancing her on his lap like a slurring, half asleep Superman.
As captain of the politeness police I almost asked them to “please stop kicking the pole, it’s really really really annoying” but I was worried she might slap me across the face and I didn’t want to get Meth on my new cute furry collar coat.
Then in a moment that moved me, he kissed her forehead and said “yo, you crazy but you my crazy.” And although I think these two idiots belong in a padded room, at least they’d be in that padded room together.
Moral of the story, there’s someone for everyone. Also, the MTA sucks balls, hard.
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I hate when people play music out of their MP3 players in public spaces and have always wanted a song to play to combat their noise pollution. So Jon Murray and I made these songs to do just that. To help end noise pollution please:
1) Download one or all three of these FREE songs created by Giulia Rozzi and Jon Murray.
2) The next time some asshole is blasting music out of their MP3 player and NOT wearing headphones, stand next to that asshole and blast one of these songs out of your MP3 player.
3) Play the song on repeat until that asshole gets the hint and puts on some headphones or turns off his/her music.
4) Feel proud as you, without saying a word, just became a hero by letting that asshole know the subway/deli/cafe/etc is no place for him/her to force others to listen to their shitty loud music.
5) If you feel so inclined, send your stories of victory over evil music blasting assholes to PutOnHeadphones@gmail.com and we will post them and congratulate you a lot.
6) Tell others to visit http://putonheadphones.tumblr.com/ to download the songs.7) Have fun!
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Mr. Magoo rides the subway.
(Click here to see larger/easier to read image)
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Toe-tally gross! Not only are they French pedicured but they are also long enough to slice an apple (or a jerk photographing them on the subway).
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Asleep on the subway. He kept his hand under his pit the entire time. He also kept falling to his left, lady in the hat was not amused.
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According to this chick everyone on the subway wants to hear the loud obnoxious sounds coming from her video game.
How her boo can nap with screeching bird sounds and horns tooting in his ear, I do not know.
