The way he talks, his mannerisms. It's not just a New York thing. It's like standing in a fragrant flower garden and having someone stand next to you and fart. The smell of the flowers is so strong that you almost don't smell it. Maybe you think for a moment that you caught a whiff of something else, but you know. He's a dirty little piggy and I hope karma catches up with him before he has a heart attack while he mows through a bucket of KFC.