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So, because we have a problem with alcohol and we desperately needed something to quell the tremors, we just stopped by Shark Bar, which is on the corner of Mulberry Street. Guess what we noticed? The San Gennaro Festival has started! If you've never heard of the festival, you should know that it's the greatest street fair in New York, because it lasts eleven days and it sells all the same crap as every other goddamn street fair but likes to pretend that it's Italian-themed! It celebrates some saint from Naples or whatever. Anyway, if you haven't gone, you should go, but we want to make something clear: The people you see at the feast are NOT REAL ITALIANS. They are street fair people, and two weeks from now they'll be setting up their sausage stands in some other location, where they will wave "Hi" to the guy who sells the $2 socks and the lady with the grilled corn covered in farm cheese. REAL ITALIANS do not work street fairs.

Real Italians are too busy whacking people, stealing things from trucks, and sitting around in their backyards in sleeveless t-shirts drinking terrible homemade wine from a tacky gold-gilted glass that they rest on their enormous guts. They sit there and bitch about the blacks, using colorful phrases that liken black skin tones to various types of produce. They only interrupt their perorations to give their wives a sharp crack on the jaw for overcooking the meatballs. They are hardened killers whose only ambition in life is to grab as much as they can with both greasy hands. You know, just like "The Sopranos."

We still recommend a trip to the festival if you've never been, because everyone needs a "Kiss My Dago Ass" bumper sticker, but please keep the aforementioned information in mind. We wouldn't want you to be misinformed.