Dear New York,
On this date in 1653, you (then named New Amsterdam — you never really looked like a New Amsterdam) were incorporated. You’ve had your ups, your downs and even that weird phase in the ’80s when you got heavy into drugs and synth music.
Throughout it all, however, you have always managed to be yourself.
358 is the new 40. You may be sagging in some places, and today you’re dripping like an unplugged refrigerator, but everyone knows you’ve still got it!
Hell, Betty White just won a Screen Actors Guild award.
What do you get the city that has everything (except a Steak ‘n’ Shake)? Woody Allen has already written you love note after love note, but he’s moved on to Europe and Scarlett Johansson.
Let’s just do for your birthday what everybody does for their own while in New York: eat at a BYOB Thai place, go to two bars in the East Village (one shitty, one kind of shitty), and then lose our wallets and vomit outside of an Atomic Wings.
We should totally do Vegas for your 359th, though.