But so-- so I was inNew York over the winter.
I was back here, and it wasone of those days-- The--
The snow had just startedto fall a little bit.
And I was walking throughthe meat-packing district.
And it was justa crisp night.
And perfect snowflakes werestarting to fall
all around me.
And I was looking down atthe cobblestone,
and I just was so moved.
I started to feel theseincredible feelings
for New York.
And I thought, These arethe same cobblestones
that, like, Brendan Behanwalked across and stumbled
across, and Edgar Allan Poesat on this stoop one time.
And-- And you-- You lookat New York,
and it's been here forever.
And you start to feel likethis connection you have
with the city and thecobblestones
and the doorways.
You're like, "Maybe, becauseI'm connected to this city,
like, we're both kindof eternal,
because the city goeson forever".
It's always going to be here.It's so amazing.
And this is immediately when Ithink, You know what?
I'm moving backto New York City.
Precisely as I form thatthought in my head is when
the five morbidly obese boysin full Mets outfits jump
out around the corner, andthey start pretending to
stab me to death.
The ringleader of this merryband starts to stab me,
going, "Whazzap, bitch?
And I thought, Oh yeah,there's that New York
Young gang out on thetown pretending to stab
a passerby to death.
And here's what I'll tellyou: On a snowy night in
New York City, to your brain,the difference between
someone stabbing you todeath and someone pretending
to stab you todeath is marginal.
And either way, you letout a little bit of pee.