Sometimes I wish the way I hear the world was actually the way it is: it just seems so much more interesting.
Nick and I took the 1 down to 14th street the other night to meet up with Evan and Jill for drinks after work (and then on to Tanuki Tavern for dinner, which was delicious). We could hear a man yelling as we climbed the stairs up from the depths of the subway station, and as we surfaced his words came abruptly into focus: "Everything is death! Everything is pussy! Everything is death! Everything is pussy!"
I found this fascinating, and creepier and darker and more true than your run of the mill crazy person ranting. Except that then Nick pointed out that it wasn't death our man was shouting about, but dick.
Which made the whole thing much less interesting.