In Which We Discover New Points of Communality With Our Neighbors

High-powered New York designers feed the chickens: photo-8 photo-7
The moment in which we both realize that we have the same haircut: photo-9
My childhood memories of Monopoly involved being bored, not being terrorized with constant reminders of how crushing, awful, and unpredictable the world is. Note to the wise: Monopoly is for the very young, or the very rich. Not for a pack of freelance artists. (Not even avec Carignan.) photo-10

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