For an unbelievable five weeks starting last Friday, New York City's G Train, the only direct subway route between Brooklyn and Queens, will not run between the two boroughs. How will you cope?

A 31-year-old Brooklynite stabbed his mother to death and slashed his father before running to Windsor Terrace's G-train station and throwing himself into the rails, to the horror of commuters.

[A despicable vandal ruins the clean negative space of a subway sign with a reference to a favorite saying of Queens rappers like Mobb Deep's Prodigy and Nas. Pic via butter team.]

A friend found this sad postcard this morning, abandoned. It is a love letter, dated May 26, 2008. It is addressed to "My dearest Mike" and signed "Love: Annie." It was found in the saddest place in the world: the platform of the Nassau Ave G Station. He would like to know if it is yours. Email us if you are Mike or Annie or maybe if you just would like to adopt a stray kitten.

God. Oh my God. It's 8:45 and I'm pacing around like a crazy person on the subway platform again. The G train, man. The fucking G train. It's gone from mild annoyance to genuine outrage to pure, paranoid obsession. Everything, I mean everything, wrong with my life can be traced back to this train.