That's the edge of New York City. Right there, where the concrete turns to grass. Beyond that line lie the Mountains of Vernon, home to all manner of fantastical beast, if the hallowed legends of our time are to be believed. For ages, our greatest bards have captivated us with tales of the exotic parking regulations, speed limits, right-turn-on-red laws, and garbage collection schedules that are said to lurk in that land beyond the precipice. And now, after trekking for literally minutes through the farthest reaches of our fair metropolis, I am poised to venture forth into that great unknown; to see, with my own eyes, that fabled realm of myth and mystery. If I can just work up the courage to take those last few steps...
That makes me smile and laugh!! Oh my gosh Matt, I love your sense of humor. Hope you made it in and back again without getting eaten alive by some beast.
Love it!
Careful, Matt, that fabled realm of myth and mystery may be home to the toy slayer, now the bird slayer.
Go ahead and take the step. I believe in you.
Beautiful :)
That’s one small step for Matt, one giant leap for… uh, leapers. You’re definitely living on the edge Matt.