City of Substance

The day began like any other, with a cup of coffee and a hasty breakfast of scrambled eggs, home fries, bacon, sausage links, black pudding, grapefruit, toasted wheat bread with lemon curd, and a half-strength mimosa. I turned on the radi-adi-o to catch the local news, and realized that something strange was going on... tales of octogenarians forced to jump in public, rumors of a mysterious figure carrying a bag of stickers, and placing them on the enticingly large foreheads of random strangers. I had to substantiate the gravity of these rumors, so I hit the streets.

I needed help, and fast, so I headed down to downtown Brooklyn, to enlist the aid of a guy who was a mild-mannered family man by night, a skyscraper-scaling daredevil by day. Standing in the shadow of his peen-like abode, I knew I was close to the source of the rumors...

**DUDE, SNAP OUT OF IT!!!**

Yesterday, I was able to attach a name and a face to King of the Animated Gifs and all-around Good Guy Substance McGravitas. Yes, we hung out at a Baby Biergarten (note to motherlovers... where there's babbies, there's muthas, if you know what I mean and I think that you do). Ned's nuclear family, the lovely Mrs. B. and the not-so-mini _B (he's like a babysaurus- I mean, he's thirty pounds of baby!) accompanied us to the Playdate Beerhall. Big Mini _B is thirty pounds of awesome, he's a happy guy, and totes adorbs... I'd hang out with him any day, he's a total, as they say, chick magnet.

After some nice fat glasses of beer, we stopped by the local B.B.Q. pit and got some victuals to consume in the book-lined precincts of Casa _B. Nothing beats good old-fashioned down-home downtown hospitality. All told, it was a day to mark with a white stone.

So, who's the next person to get their ass to New York?

UPDATE: Does it even need to be said that Substance McGravitas has an enticingly large forehead? Didn't think so!