Nobody asked me but...is my periodic doff of the cap to the late-great New York sportswriter Jimmy Cannon. When Cannon could find no topic for his column, he would write one of these—meandering and random, but I hope, fun.
Nobody asked me but….
….nothing’s uglier than the huge piles of monoxide-crusted snow dappled with dogshit that appear on nearly every corner of New York within hours of a snow-storm.
….except maybe Donald Trump’s hair.
….and his personality.
….and his policies.
….if you’ve ever wondered what the metaphor “go piss up a rope” means, try registering a noise complaint with the City.