Speakin' of Injuns.... why is it that every backseat driver, who will
scream at their loved ones for going 26 in a 25, when in New York, will get
into a cab with a stranger from the third world (that grew up with a
steering wheel on the right), let them drive like a devil in a bumper car
without comment and then tip them?
Any comments on the cover of the December New Yorker, Newyorkistan?
Signed: Oma Kahkees