A Confession

We have a confession to make.

This won't be easy.

Last weekend, we had a few drinks, one thing led to another and before we knew it..... exhale.... we were in Brooklyn.

We know, but it all happened so fast.

There we were. The entire staff: the copy desk, photographers, graphic designers, even our personal chef. We went to see the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, which was great. Can't wait until those guys come play Cargo Cafe.

Anyway, we went to this bar after. It was one of those shitholes on the crap side of Williamsburg that nobody knows about but in, like, six months will be huuuge.

Things were going swell. drinks. dancin'. drugs. mgmt. gaga's 'bad romance.' pretty much the best time eva -- until.

A member of our entourage may have had a few too many and they accidentally mentioned that we were from Staten Island.

All hell broke loose.

The music stopped. People were throwin bottles. One of us got a black eye. They told us we didn't belong and that we should go back to our own borough.

This will not stand. This aggression will not stand, man.

Who do these so-called 'brooklynites' think they are anyway? They only moved here, like, six months ago and they probably haven't even been to Staten Island.

These assholes actually think they can rip on us because they watched a few episodes of the Jersey Shore... fuck outta here.

Eat it Brooklyn.