This captures so much of New York City attitudes. (Via FIP)
Category: Uncategorized
Top Chef’s Hosea … Under My Wife’s Umbrella
As part of my day job, I went to Food & Wine’s Best New Chefs party the other night.
AmEx Won’t Take Crap from Obama Committee
Woman donates $10,000 to Barack Obama’s Presidential Inaugural Committee using her American Express with the understanding that she’ll get a damn good seat at the inauguration. (I’m not going to question her judgment for the time being.)
Because of massive security screw-ups throughout the day (which I guess the media saw no need to report at the time), she didn’t get anywhere near the event. She requests a refund.
I think we all know the bipartisan answer to the question, “Hey Mr. Politician, can I have my damn money back?” If you’re a little slow on the uptake, the answer is, “Hahahaha. You’re funny. Now how much are planning to give for re-election?”
So she totally pulls a credit-card chargeback. Amex’s response? “No problem. Here’s your ten grand. We’ll deal with those punks down at PIC.”
Now here’s where I question her judgment.
But after it appeared she would be getting a refund this month, Blessman wrote in an email to the Sleuth, “The PIC did what was honorable and acted in a way consistent with the values we personally know the Obamas hold.”
As the WaPo’s Sleuth points out, the PIC had nothing to do with her getting her money back. But whatever. Good to see that American Express will stand up for you even if — nay, especially if — you’re a gullible idiot.
God Knows What Prompted This
Sign in the 47th Street YMCA Men’s Locker Room: “Water fountain is for drinking only.”
Ever wonder what sort of behavior prompts these sorts of signs? Like, what the HELL, was someone doing in that water fountain? “Hey, you! That’s not a bidet!”
Oh Boy, Danny
In honor of St. Patrick’s day, a gift from the Muppets.
Ten Rumors About Rihanna
So rumors are swirling that Rihanna is going to totally sing a duet with beat-down artist Chris Brown. She’s a forgive-and-forget kind of girl it seems. Do I know if that rumor is true? Hell no. And I’m not looking at any pop culture sites to find out, either. Here are 10 more Rihanna rumors I’ve heard … and by heard, I mean “totally made up”:
1. She’s tapped Bernie Madoff to be her financial adviser.
2. She’s asked Michael Vick to watch her dogs when she’s out of town.
3. She’s going to let Tim Geithner do her taxes.
4. She’s letting Barack Obama vet her staff.
5. She’s asked George Bush to handle her PR.
6. She’s letting Rahm Emanuel oversee her line of condolence cards.
7. She’s turned to Tom Cruise for spiritual advice.
8. She’ll be getting all her relationship advice from Gene Simmons.
9. She’s ask Bruce Vilanch to be her stylist.
10. And, looking ahead to when she and Chris start popping out babies, she’s tapped Michael Jackson as godfather and babysitter.
Should Someone Just Buy Detroit?
According to this highly suspect figure in a Tribune piece, the average price of a home sold in Detroit last December was $7,500. That’s right $7,500, not $75,000.
Which got me to thinking. Why not just buy the whole damn city? Sure, I’d have to put up with the Grade A idiot class of politicians that wander the increasingly vacant streets of Detroit, but once I own the city, I’d could BE one of those Grade A idiots. (Okay, maybe I’d have to get indicted for something, first.)
I kid, I kid. I couldn’t afford the whole city. But here’s the thing. Assuming those prices were realistic and assuming the wife and I are planning to spend $500,000 or so on a 2-bedroom in Brooklyn (likely to be under 1,000 square feet), we could buy 66.6 houses in Detroit. And that’s not factoring in the ridiculous maintenance fees, property taxes and co-op board retards we’d have to deal with in Brooklyn. I’ve been looking for outdoor space. Hell, I could have 66 backyards. I could start my own company and, instead of renting or buying office space, I just move everyone there and give them a house! Or, assuming permission from my wife, I could go Mormon. Get me 65 more wives.
Ladies and gentleman, Welcome to Wheatonia. The official food is barbecue, the official drink bourbon. Enjoy it.
Hate Is Wrong! Murder? That Depends.
Two thugs killed an Ecuadorean immigrant and city officials were just on the news letting us all know that, god damn it, they’re not going to stand for hatred, for cowardice, for racism and homophobia. Oddly enough, they didn’t mention murder. As if beating a person to death with a bat were a lesser crime than hating the dude because they thought he was a gay Mexican. They’re facing second-degree murder charges and assault as a hate crime.
Indeed, just a few years ago writer-director-actress Adrienne Shelly was murdered in her apartment by an Ecuadorean immigrant, who apparently wasn’t guilty of harboring hatred in his heart.
But the end result is still the same. People were robbed of their lives. Families were robbed of someone they love. Should one murderer be punished any less because he didn’t shout out a few racial slurs before taking a life?
Twenty-five years for manslaughter for beating and choking a woman to death–and no outrage from the city council.
In the world of “hate crimes,” the answer to that question is yes.
Think With Your Dipstick
Really.
The Champion Loses His Title
Due to rigorous training and healthy eating, I’ve been the reigning champion in these parts of Wii Sports Boxing. I’d beat comers of all ages: including 13-year-old punks who could school me in any other game on any other console; and some of New York City’s best trade journalists — and their spouses.
And then, this weekend, in a crushing defeat, I was knocked out in the first round by my wife, whose style could best be described as “flailing wildly.” It was only her second time in the ring. But I just couldn’t figure out a way to defend myself from her devastating body blows. I’m a jab and cross guy. Protect your face while breaking open the other guy’s noggin. In truth, I’ve never even figured out to throw body punches on the damn game. It was my weakness.
In real life it may have looked like she was juggling, but on the screen she was dealing devastation to my internal organs. And down I went.
Even worse? She had no interest in a rematch.