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Archive for July, 2007

Mets Update for Apple-Lovers

Gothamist brings us an important news flash on the beloved Mets’ beloved Shea’s beloved Home Run Apple.

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Beloved since 1980. 

 As they move across the parking lot to the newer, fancier, shmancier stadium this venerable symbol of whalloping a ball might not make the trip with them!

 Read the full story here, get e-involved here.

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Just a quick note on Faan, a pan-Asian restaurant on Smith Street. It’s an adorable place with a semi-outdoor seating area, decorated with plants, lanterns and other things dangling from its glass ceiling. Walking by, it looks welcoming and pretty, just like you would want from a pan-Asian restaurant on Smith Street. And while the food was mediocre, the waitstaff surly, and the Silk Panties (a beverage) incredibly strong, there was something special about this place: It featured brazen Brooklyn love on its beer menu.

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No, not the semi-underground sport roommate hunting. I’m referring to the kind of roommate hunt that involves posting an open room in your apartment on Craigslist and seeing what kind of scaries come out to ingratiate themselves and borrow into your living quarters. Here are some thoughts should any of you decide to embark on a similar journey.

1. Craigslist trollers have their responses down to a science. Within 24 hours of posting my ad, I had over 100 well-crafted life stories packed into my inbox. Many of them extolled my ad-writing skills, saying that I had awakened them from the dreary haze of reading apartment listings. Let me assure you that my ad was neither amusing nor outstanding. It may differ only in the lack of spelling errors. Either way, nearly all of the responses were identical because apparently every young woman in New York is exactly the same. I suppose I knew that already.

2. Might I suggest inviting an extremely judgemental friend to supervise your interactions with potential roommates and then offer scathing criticism when they leave? Because it’s very helpful. Thanks, johnbaptisedme.

3. Young women apartment seachers in New York can tend towards the overzealous. Maybe don’t pick the one who called you five times within 12 hours of meeting her. Because she’s crazy.

4. No one will tell you to your face that they are not interested in the apartment. One girl (who showed up a half hour late for her appointment with nary a phone call or apology) walked through the apartment, asked one question and then said, “well, I’m going to head out.” I asked her if she was interested in the place at all – she most certainly wasn’t – and if I should call her when I’ve made a decision. She said I should. Um, why not just say you’re not interested, weird girl with a Blackberry in one hand and a Razr in the other? Your existence annoys me.

5. If at all possible, don’t wait until the end of the month to look for a roommate. Because everyone who is looking to move immediately is coming from a crisis situation. And anyone who finds themselves in a residence-related crisis is probably not going to be an ideal roommate.

6. Myspace and Facebook are your friends. Don’t feel bad about doing a little surreptitious background check on your candidates. They say a picture is worth a thousand words…especially if that picture is your potential roommate soul-kissing a bottle of Rolling Rock and grinding with her sorority sisters in a mid-western sports bar. And they’re all wearing WWJD bracelets and hotpants.

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Alvin and the Chipmunks

There are three notable things in this trailer that I don’t think anyone ever asked for (other than a live action Chipmunks movie, mind you.) These three things are:

  • Jason Lee as Dave.
  • A chipmunk rendition of “Funkytown.”
  • Alvin putting Theodore’s shit in his mouth. Literally.

Watch, and try not cry.

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Well, no one ever said thrashing around on stage was easy and Beyonce (Knowles) illustrated this at a concert the other night when she fell down some stairs during her show. And Beyonce didn’t simply just trip or lose her balance, she literally fell down in the worst possible way (in my opinion anyway), tumbling down several stairs and then subsequently diving head first to the bottom of the platform. It was like a magic trick. Especially due to the fact that immediately after losing her balance (and self respect) she got right back into her thrashing groove and continued on as though she wasn’t the main component in what might as well be R&B’s most humiliating spill of the century. Amazing. If that had happened to me, I mean, I don’t even know what I’d do. Die, maybe?

But you know, I commend Beyonce. She’s a true performer. Rock on, girl.

Also, apparently after the the fall Beyonce asked anyone that had caught her embarrassing moment on tape to not post it online. Umm, dream on, B-yon.

ps. You should try to catch this clip before BMG manages to take it down.

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On Tuesday night, like many other Tuesday nights, I went to the Gowanus Yacht Club, one of my very favorite bars in Brooklyn. Expecting another delightful evening quaffing brewskies under the stars, I was shocked to discover that the bar had, in fact, been infiltrated by fascists. At first, I wasn’t sure. Obviously the fascists weren’t hanging around bragging about their totalitarian ways. No, no. They appeared to be the regular bartenders, but there was a tension in the air that could only be attributed to an absolutist power structure that had enveloped the establishment.

My proof:

1. Upon seating ourselves at a rickety table (which rocked and caused my beer to spill on more than one occasion), my companion and I realized that there was no longer any table service. I looked plaintively at the (former) waiter, hoping he would bring me beer just like he had in the past. But no. As I battled my way up to the beer-to-cup staging area, he leaned on the bar and laughed. In most bars, this is ordinary and acceptable. Not so with the GYC. Generally, it is so crowded that walking through the place with a beer in hand is simply something that must be left to professionals.

2. There were no paper towels in the bathroom. Again, something that can be overlooked in a normal bar. But the GYC only recently installed a bathroom, which is in a fake room made of drywall taped to whatever used to be in that basement. I mean, you wash your hands in a utility sink and squirt soap from a ketchup bottle. Seriously. Under these conditions, paper towels are essential.

3. They have recently created a “smoking section” in a bar that is literally without walls or a ceiling. When I walked in, there was a big crowd in the front area of the bar. This is, at best, uncommon on a Tuesday evening. As I pushed through the throngs, I realized there were plenty of tables and chairs a little farther back. I silently wondered why they didn’t just go sit down. But then I figured it out. On several occasions, a few poor souls tried to light cigarettes in the completely unmarked, arbitrary no-smoking zone. Upon the first flick of the Bic, the surly non-waiter would march up, and yell something like “Dude! DUDE! You can’t smoke there! It’s a no smoking section!” At this point, the offender would calmly get up, walk three feet away, and continue smoking. All those who remained in the fantasy non-smoking section, glanced quizzically at each other while continuing to die from second had smoke because there are no walls in this tiny, tiny bar.

Only a fascist would have let this happen to the GYC. Where’s Churchill when you need him?

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Gowanus Yacht Club: Unburdened by walls, and completely overrun with fascists.

Photo: Slice

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Apparently Tom & Kat know how to get down and dirty. Who knew? Well, I sort of knew, after seeing that youtube video of the two awkwardly dancing along to Kanye West’s “Gold Digger” at one of his concerts. It was very uncomfortable to watch the internet clip in its entirety. Uncomfortable yet…necessary. Anyway, this photo is better because we, the viewers, only get a glimpse of what went on here. I can only imagine what the entire night was like with these two. Judging from Cruise’s pit/shoulder stains, it appears he’d been dancing for a while. Nice. Also nice, Cruise’s facial expression. It looks like he’s really having a good time. Good for him. And I can’t tell what Katie’s thinking, but I honestly don’t care. Ever since she aged like, 79 years over the course of one month, I find her boring and unexciting. Sometimes I just wish…I just wish everyone from Dawson’s Creek stayed in their characters forever.

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Get it, Tom!

 

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