Yeah, New York’s a scary place. I was walking through the Park the other day with a friend, and suddenly out of nowhere the wind starts to pick up. The ground starts shaking. I feel like I’m in the stampede scene from “The Lion King”. People started running at us from every direction. A 200 lb woman in lycra hot pants surrounded us. A string bean in glasses and a pair of shorts from his 8th grade gym class took a cut at me with his Discman. I mean, this thing almost killed me. It’s one of the ones that wouldn’t skip if you dropped it off Everest.
That’s when I realized that the city’s worst nightmares have come true:
My God. Jogger gangs have taken over the Park.
You’ve seen them. They’re all runnin’ around in their stretchy pants, and their gang colors…those of course being anything neon.
You mess with ’em you’ll have an apex running sneaker so far up your ass, you won’t know what hit you. I for one am tired of being afraid!
I think it’s time we took the Park back from these jogging bastards.
So, the other night I hired 6 cabs, and we just drove around picking ’em off one by one.
Probably not the best way for me to make friends.