BRENDA CULLERTON has a tiny tattoo of an open book on her left ankle. She blogs instead of jogs, shops occasionally, reads compulsively, and is no longer wise beyond her years. She lives and works in New York City. She also writes books:
The Craigslist Murders
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Two suits, sipping from cups of beef barley soup

"Sure, it could be worse," says one. "It could be raining fuckin’ scissors."

Two girls looking at Facebook on laptops:
"I met him at a brow bar Thursday nite and he is soooo "Girls.’

(Brow bars: trending salons featuring cocktails, gossip, and eyebrow trimming/threading.)

Same girls, later
"Clubs? Nah, not his steez."

(steez as in style&ease. Courtesy of urban dictionary )

Guy on phone: “I’m tired of all this ‘otherly’ shit.”

Girl jumping to feet as friend enters:

"Oh my God, I just saw Jason Segal. He walked right by me on Broadway.  He is so cute."
Friend: “Yeah. Too bad he’s a total man whore.”

And then there’s this from the “HUH” department.

Young girl interviewing young hipster guy

Girl: So what are you working on now?

Guy: I split my work into like six different silos. (Silos?)

Girl: When did you become a sexpert? Cuz I don’t know shit about sex. I’ve had it like a thousand times and I still don’t know shit about it.

Guy:  I started up right after I worked in Union Square.

Girl: You mean, when you stood on the corner with your poster board and offered “Free Advice.”

Guy: Exactly. And the advice thing was so popular, I figured I’d make it more specific, you know?  So I bought two chairs from a woman on the Upper East Side. I found them on Craigslist for five bucks each and I set up my “Free Sex Advice” gig.

Girl: What was the last thing somebody asked for advice about?

Guy: A girl said: What to you do when you go up a friend ladder then find yourself on a sex ladder with them instead?

Which is when I stuffed my soup container in the garbage and got outta Dodge. Friend ladders? Sex ladders? Silos? What am I doing wrong?