Boise (that’s in Idaho) to Las Vegas (you know where that is)
[ul]
[li]If you’re not addicted to alcohol, gambling, or partying, there’s nothing here. Period. And to get to that nothing, you have to drive too far on roads with far more cars than necessary on them. Boise has more culture than this, which is saying something.[/li][li]As if the sales tax wasn’t enough, fast food places gouge you if you use a debit card! Blatant gouging. Thank god I don’t own or want to own property hear; skyrocketing property value has the sum effect of making property too expensive to own. Heck, my apartment’s rent went up twice this year, signed contract notwithstanding.[/li][li]The traffic sucks. Too many cars, they’re all going too fast (even the polite ones), and the rules of the road are optional. Like, red lights, they’re optional. Speed limit signs aren’t even an afterthought.[/li][li]Okay, the heat’s bad, but you expect the heat to be bad. The real problem is when it rains. They don’t know the meaning of the word ‘drainage’. It rains for twenty minutes, and the streets flood. A lot. Like, ten inches deep. Whole roads are covered with water. Forget how this makes your car look, you worry about swamping out the engine. And it’s all there the next morning, too. This from ‘rainstorms’ that wouldn’t even get the roads wet in the great white north.[/li][li]Cockroaches. Inch long cockroaches. Makes one pine from the spiders, not like a Boise spider could take one of these things on.[/li][li]Everybody’s so happy about how quickly they do construciton here. What they don’t mention is, what the construction is doing. The road system was designed by madmen who were then killed and replaced by drunken monkeys. The freeway intersections are so complicated that the locals avoid them (except, nobody’s a local). Roads change names for no reason. Roads intersect themselves. Parallel roads have the same name.[/li][li]Compounding the last point, the drunken monkeys are dead set on making things worse. There’s a Target 100 yards from my apartment. To get there, I have to drive three miles, because they removed a 30 yard stretch of road to replace it with… nothing. Dirt. But hilly dirt so you can’t cross it. And since I moved here a year ago, they removed another road, making it impossible to get from Walmart to my workplace. They just cut it off fifteen yards past the intersection and left it open dirt. I figure if I stayed here another couple years, they’d have the entire area down to unconnected islands of pavement.[/ul] [/li]
I’d probably have more, but I’ve only been here a year. I hate this town.
Upstate NY (the real upstate NY) to downstate NY (what people here call upstate NY).
Communities in upstate NY have their problems. But overall most people are proud of their home town. And that’s fine.
People in New York City are also proud of their home town. Very proud. Very very very very proud. If you have a day or two to spare ask a NYC native how great NYC is.
But like I said, it’s okay to be proud of your hometown, so I can tolerate this.
However, I’ll tell you what’s sad. Sad are all the people who live in downstate NY who are in complete agreement with the people who live in NYC. These people also think that NYC is the only place on Earth worth lving in. And they don’t live there.
Talk about sports and they’ll talk about the Giants and the Yankees. Talk about politics and they’ll talk about the borough races. Talk about culture and they’ll talk about Broadway. Talk about traffic and they’ll talk about the FDR. Talk about shopping and they’ll tell you about Macy’s. Talk about man’s place in the universe and they’ll talk about how many miles away Manhattan is.
You just want to slap these people and tell them, “You love New York City so much? Why don’t you marry it? Or at least move in together. If Paradise on Earth awaits you only fifty miles away, why are you still here? Pack your bags and go.”
The library is FOUR blocks away. You don’t need an SUV to get there.
For that matter you don’t need an SUV (and the six other gas guzzlers parked in your yard) to get anywhere. At some point our children may want to be able to breathe without oxygen tanks.
Taking the bus somewhere does not make a person a freak.
Neither does walking. I like walking. It’s like using the treadmill but with better scenery.
New York City is forty-five minutes away. Step away from the mall for five seconds and go do some real shopping.
Stop raising my property taxes! I didn’t get a 5% raise last year, why should the local police?
You don’t need to start up the leaf blowers at 9 a.m. on a Saturday. Your lawn looks fine. It looked fine last night even before you spent two hours mowing it.
No, we’re not adding on to our house. Ever. This house is twice the size of my old apartment. There are studio apartments in NYC that could fit in any dining room on the block.
In the left turn lane, unless you have a red left turn light specifically stating no left turns, you are allowed to go. Don’t you people have places to go.
As if cars weren’t enough of a status symbol, you do not need to have a $5000, zero turning radius mower for your one acre lot.
If you’re so proud of your state, stop asking me why I moved here.
If I had a genie, I would change all those obnoxious Dixie horn melodies with “La Cucaracha”
From North Jersey to Spokane, WA (other side of the state from Seattle – and no, it doesn’t rain here like it does there):
Fer chrissakes people, there’s no need to have your studded snow tires on all year round. Those wagon-tracks in every lane on the highway you’re always complaining about? Yeah, that’s from you, dorko.
Olive Garden is not Italian food.
Krispy Kreme is not a doughnut shop.
Anyone around here see a doughnut shop that isn’t called Krispy Kreme?
It’s precipitation. Drive carefully does not mean slow to a crawl or, alternatively, drive like a maniac. Nor does an inch of snow dictate a complete closing of the airport.
Have you people no delicatessans? Does anyone here know what pumpernickel bread even looks like? Or how a reuben should be made?
Are that many bars in a 5 block radius really that necessary?
adding to Corii’s assessment about cheesesteaks: Adding provolone cheese and a few peppers to your crummy sandwich does not make it a “Philly” cheesesteak.
– More pierogies, please.
– OK. Winter before last and winter before that? Starting to get to be real winter weather. Above -30? Puh-lease. That’s early April in Winnipeg.
Heck no. Back in NJ there was a deli on nearly every corner. Jewish delis where one could get a killer pastrami on rye. Or just a mom and pop shop where you could get a taylor ham on a hard roll with egg and cheese for a quick breakfast.
Out here I haven’t seen a one. They just don’t exist. There isn’t even one to go to and say, “It’s not like back home…” They don’t even know what taylor ham is out here.
Unless you meant, “Isn’t it like moving from Guadalajara to Helsinki and criticizing the quality of Mexican sauna baths?” Then you might have a point.
But still, not even one decent deli? I’d drive an hour to go to a good one, as it stands now.
The Chinese and Mexican food sucks, and they don’t know it.
Hell, most of the restaurants serve sucky food, and they don’t know it.
Your car’s horn does not come with the disintegration feature. If you want to start moving as soon as the light turns green, you’ll have to be the first car at the light.
As far as Mexican food goes, OK, the Mexicans have only started coming to NYC in the past 10 years and have yet to really open up many “authetic” restaurants. But really, only people from the SouthWest have anything better to boast about.
But Chinese food? You’re insane. Unless you’re only eating at Ollie’s or restaurants on the Yupper West Side, in which case you’d have to expect a certain amount of catering to the non-native clientele. What with Chinatown, Flushing and Elmhurst in Queens, and other areas in Brooklyn being major centers of Chinese immigration, only major California metro areas rival NYC for authetic Chinese food.
As for this… Very true. Lately everybody “coasts through” red lights by tailgating the guy in front of them who “just caught” the light, even if that guy really only coasted through on the taillights of the guy who really went through on the yellow light… So now, nobody goes when it just turns green, since you’re assuming at least 2 if not 3 more cars are going to go by in front of you.
It makes me want to scream NO ELECTRICITY like back when we used to play Tag in the schoolyard. Buncha cheatin’ no-good punk ass bastards!
Southern California > Central PA > Southern Idaho > Central New Jersey (goin on 15 years)
[ul]
[li]If you’re taking a stroll in the suburbs, use the sidewalk, not the street.[/li][li]No Malt-O-Meal here!! Insanity.[/li][li]A hair’s width is not the distance to strive for between your car and my ass.[/li][li]Ocean’s on the wrong side.[/li][/ul]Not much can be done about the last item. Otherwise, New Jersey is copasetic.
I’ve tried three places in Chinatown that were pretty highly rated and recommended, and they all sucked ass compared to what I was eating in Vancouver. But when you combine the very strong restaurant culture that exists in that city with 350,000 people of Chinese descent, you’re going to get really good chinese food.
Hawai’i to the Mainland USA:
Ok, putting a god damned piece of pineapple on it doesn’t make it resemble Hawai’ian food.
Serving chicken teriyaki and only chicken teriyaki, apparently, does not mean that you are a Hawai’ian restaurant.
Learn how to make rice, damn you.
It’s “Ha-vai-ee” or “Ha-Wai-ee,” not “haw-wah-yeh.”
Where’s my bento?!
Idaho:
Mexican food. . . ehm.
Please start driving within 10 mph of the speed limit on the freeway on nice sunny days.
Stop whining about being stereotyped for having neo-Nazi compounds. You’re the ones with all the neo-Nazi compounds. Thank you, however, for getting rid of them in recent years. But dear, sweet, Coeur d’Alene, do something else worthwhile to get into the news if you no longer want to be known for Nazis, multiple murders, and superfund sites. And getting ash dumped on you from a volcano in 1980 doesn’t count. Like the rest of the northwest didn’t have the same experience. And there MIGHT be other topics of conversation than how big town has gotten in the last 5 years, property prices, development, and the Diabolical Plots of the Evil Genius Duane Hagadone.
Stratford, CT to Woodbury, CT (which, funny thing is, was originally part of Stratford!)
Stratford’s on the coast - Woodbury is in the middle of nowhere
Stratford - Easy to get to most major cities - Bridgeport is right next door, NYC is an hour away, Boston, 2 hrs. Woodbury - a half hour just to find a grocery store, and even though it’s 10 miles away, almost an hour to get to Waterbury. Damn those 25 MPH speed limits.
Stratford - LOTS of bars, and all open until legal closing. Woodbury - 2 or three bars that close at 11, at the latest - most close about 8.
Stratford - fast food and pizza. GOOD pizza! Woodbury - no fast food, a couple of pizza places. Not very good pizza. Not even not very good Greek pizza, but not very good Albanian pizza.
Stratford - You can wear just about anything and no one comments. Woodbury - unless you’re wearing a sweatsuit or knock-off jeans and a t-shirt, people think you dress too provocatively - that includes any kind of skirt. Even ones that go to the floor.
MUCH MUCH more - but this is depressing me too much
I gotta ask where you went and who reviewed the restaurants. If you can’t find a fantastic restaurant in Chinatown, then I doubt the problem’s with NYC.
I moved to NYC from Westchester, and I have to say, both Little Neo and Beware of Doug hit the damn nails on the head.
I really do love where I live, but if pressed I could rant a bit.
I am now in Ann Arbor. Used to live in Nebraska, and then in Virginia.
(1) I’m with podkayne–these people don’t know how to deal with tornadoes. I have a coworker who wants to head for the basement at the first threatening cloud. Girl, when the wind is screaming like a freight train and the barn explodes and the cow goes flying over the roof, then we’ll head to the basement.
(2) See also podkayne re: corn. Pathetic. I’ll show you some corn, people.
(3) You call this a steak?
(4) It’s noble to complain about the racist south, but can we stop ignoring the stuff that goes on here right under your enlightened, liberal, supposedly-tolerant noses?
(5) You call this a sky?
(6) I don’t care how fancy the bread is or what herb you mixed in the mayo, $10 is not reasonable for a turkey freaking sandwich.
(7) A prairie dog is not a zoo animal or an exotic pet.
Same damn thing in Buffalo. That, and Florida, too, specifically Sarasota. Buffalonians love dat der Sarasota place der.
More from the viewpoint of a transplant to Cleveland:
There are hardly any buried utility lines anywhere in the entire region. Even in the toniest suburbs, telephone, electric and cable lines are strung above ground on tall, cluttered, closely spaced poles. It makes most streets look like hell, and the very strict zoning codes many suburbs have banning pole signs, billboards and other visual pollution don’t make a difference. It’s as if they think the use of a shovel is limited to snow.
It’s pronounced “a-RAB-a-ca”, not “air-uh-BEE-ca.”
The East Side-West Side divide is unlike anything I’ve ever experience. Local residents treat the Cuyahoga River like an international boundary, seldom crossing it for all but the biggest events. Even the most Manhattancentric New Yorkers leave the island more than Clevelanders cross the Cuyahoga.
The grinning face of Frank Russo, the Cuyahoga County auditor, is stuck on every single gas pump and cash register. Auditor stickers don’t just say “Cuyahoga County Auditor”, no, it’s the guy’s name in Japs-Bomb-Pearl-Harbor-sized type with a photo to boot.
Single people in Cleveland? Anyone? Does state law require women to get married at 25, buy a minivan, and get her hair cut in a short, all-above-the-ears, bubble-shaped mommy coif? There must be some corrolary with the utter obsession people have with living in the [del]whitest[/del] right school district; it’s driving urban sprawl far more than the greediest developers.
Worst damn television news broadcasts ever. It’s the same thing on every channel; nothing but “gotcha”-style investigative journalism where some “I-Team” or something like that follows city workers as they take hour-and-fifteen-minute long lunch breaks; stories about how some common household item may cause a severe injury or painful death (always “coming up later”, of course); feelgood glurge about puppies, veterans or handicapped kids; and sports, sports, sports.
Worst damn radio ever. Clevelanders are actually jealous of Buffalo and Detroit because FM radio in those cities is so much better than the lowest-common-denominator rap-and-mullet-rock fest that dominates the airwaves here.
The police have a strange fetish with enforcing the speed limit – set artifically low in most places. You could drive with busted lights, a hanging bumper spraying sparks onto traffic behind you, 100% opaque tinted windows, tailgating, or blasting gangsta rap at a Saturn rocket-like volume with a Krakatoa 2000 amp, but Og forbid you should go 27 in a 25 zone on Mayfield Road. Traffic enforcement here is omnipresent, and punishment is draconian.
The local NPR station here identifies itself as “Ideastream”. Same thing with the PBS station. What. The. Fuck.
