Pseudo-New Yorker

Legal humor here.

“What did I tell you? Ten years ago, this car would be nothing but ‘gators. The Bronx has totally gone to hell.”

“Don’t worry, folks. My buddy and me, we’re out for fun, not for food. But if you could help us score a couple of tickets to “The Inexplicable Redemption of Agent G,” that would definitely be cool.”

“So, he says, he says, ‘I haven’t seen so many old crocs since Hermès went public.’ You know, like handbags. I mean, the guy is funny.”

“Yeah, we’re going to play a game, called Guess the Female. The winner, well, I guess the winner gets eaten last. Unless some more people get on.”

“Let ‘em stare. For fifty years they’ve been moving the goalposts on us. Now we’re moving the goalposts on them.”

“It went something like ‘I’m Gary the Gator and I mean to say, I eats all night and I sleeps all day.’ Very Staten Island.”

“Don’t worry. By the time we get to Lincoln Center, we will be all over the Post, and the Post will be all over us.”

“If I’m interviewed? I don’t know. Something like ‘Yo, New York! What’s up? I’m your worst fucking nightmare, an urban legend who’s on your case and in your face.’ But, you know, with more brio.”

“Come on. Lin’s a point guard. He can spark the Knicks, but he can’t carry them.”

“This place better be bumpin’. Six months of hibernation makes me horny as hell.”

“Take the train to the plane, my ass! We must be half way to Poughkeepsie by now.”