Brunching This Weekend? Try Brunchables.
The cool people over at College Humor posted this gem of a sketch earlier this week. It rings a little close to home for a certain brand of Brooklynites, for whom brunch actually does seem weirdly holy, a mystic ritual maybe first mainstreamed by that terrible show Sex in the City. Only thing missing from the video is all the obnoxious status updating and tweeting that happens during the typical brunch — but they seemed to gotten everything else down pretty much to a T. My insufficient commentary aside, please to enjoy.
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The best thing about being a young adult right now is that you, more than any previous generation, have the freedom and the resources to create your own religion. So, let’s get started.
The apartment you lived in your first year out of school, the walk-up with a view of the street.
I wanted to quit my job. I hated my boss.
His eyes widened, he became angry, and backed off of me. I told him he could leave now. Now. He said “With you being a good Christian girl, and me studying to be a priest, I think it’s important we not tell anyone what we did.”