Manhattan Offender

Rasiej, more than just the cool poster

Yet again with the politics.  Admittedly, the poster is the draw here, but one visit to the website finished the sale.  Andrew Rasiej, candidate for Public Advocate, has a fantastic, non-politico, background with a range from education to the New York Nightlife Association.  He has championed the use of technology in problem-solving and promises to continue to do so.

The amorphous Public Advocate position relies on the office-holder to make it their own.  It requires vision and perserverance; otherwise, the Public Advocate becomes a ping-pong ball on the table of local politics.  The current PA, Betsy Gotbaum, has worked on basic issues but has largely been the Invisible Woman for the past four years.  Her website touts some rather strong administrative accomplishments, but lacks any greater vision.  (And having a subheader "Betsy on Food Stamps" makes a mockery of whatever text may follow it.)

Rasiej calls out bigger issues, calling for city-wide wi-fi and (yes, it is a litmus test here) gay marriage.  With his connections to the Nightlife Association, again, it should be a great inaugaration party (to which we kindly accept our invitation if we're not busy with Brian Ellner's even more fabulous soiree).  Manhattan Offender, suddenly all political, endorses Andrew Rasiej for Public Advocate.

Oh, and the poster really rocks. 

New Orleans Offender?

The devastation of New Orleans is vast and likely complicated by the fact that so much of the city is so old that repair will be difficult.  Hopefully many of the old buildings of the French Quarter will survive intact.  The next big story will likely be the insurance battles ahead, as businesses and homeowners struggle to keep aloft before insurance payments are received.  As it is a marginally red state, surely the Bush administration will be sure that federal monies are received (unlike Manhattan after, well, you know). 

With all of the upcoming reconstruction and redevelopment coming, a dream scenario would be a large army of gay men taking over - a GayCorp.  Only the GayCorp could properly bring the city back to it's sexy/campy self in proper fashion and keep corporate 'entertainment' (i.e. TGI Fridays) at bay.  Having reestablished the city, the GayCorp could settle there, becoming a proper gay mecca.  The development money will be out there; it's time for the gays to seize the moment.  New Orleans, here we come.

Camera karma, part four

So Next used some shots that the recently injured Offender-cam took at the High Life/Low Life party.  (Specifically this one taking up most of page six and this one on page eight.)  There was no photo credit though.  Thus this media whore is just a media slut, with no payoff.
Poo.

Camera karma, part three

Some people are just not meant to own a cute little digital camera.  Evidence Exhibits A and B.  Or perhaps digital cameras have an 'AA' circuit that punishes use of the camera while consuming alcohol.  Nevertheless, my camera is busted.  Again. 

After drinks at B Bar (can I please call it Bowery Bar?), the camera was needed to take a picture of Mister Offender being cute in the cab.  Apparently, my bony booty (it's actually quite lovely, if you like small butts) had applied too much pressure on the little Elph and the display screen just emitted a pink, white, and black (like the new M.O. color scheme!) conceptual art.  The photos still turn out fine, but the screen is jacked.

But maybe this is a turning point.  No, I won't be stopping the consumption of consumables anytime soon, but at least this time when I purchased the camera, I also bought into the 'service plan' scheme.

And there might be more good karma coming, but I need to find a Next to know for sure.  If the karma turns out all bad, I'll be soon purchasing a huge retro-Polaroid, certain not to break under my awesome ass.

Props to Brian Ellner

A big "You go girl!" to Manhattan Borough President candidate Brian Ellner.  The New York Times reports that Ellner not only included, but mentions by name his partner, Simon Holloway,  in a television campaign spot.  While Ellner stands to the left of the Offender on a few things, the fact that he starts the ad with Bush's head on a bare male torso, stating, "the Emporer has no clothes" is spot on.  Manhattan shouldn't have to cower to puerile, self-righteous red staters who take no pause in putting us down. 

I had previously dissed the Ellner campaign slogan, "Feel Good About Voting Again" (which apparently was noticed by someone on the Ellner campaign).  Now that the campaign is putting out it's full message, the slogan works.  In fact, let it be proclaimed that as of today, Manhattan Offender endorses Brian Ellner for Manhattan Borough President!  (I'm sure this endorsement will be added to all campaign materials immediately.)  And invite Mister Offender and me to the inaugural ball - doubtless to be better than any other candidates!

Wigstock: bring the kids?

Dear Lady Bunny,

I want to bring my niece and nephew to Wigstock.  Mister Offender says no.  I say they'll love the fun atmosphere, music, and colorful ensembles.  Mister says that their parents are on the conservative side and may have to answer 'uncomfortable' questions from the kids.  I say it's just another day in New York.  Mr. Offender says I'm a troublemaker.

Bunny, to be honest with you, I just want to dress as Angelina Jolie, put the nephew in a faux-hawk and the niece in black face, carry a Saks bag in my hand and a vial of Jennifer Aniston's blood around my neck.  I think the kids will love it.  What do you think, gurl?

At Wigs' End

Radio City gets Phat, lowers standards, whores self

AMNewYork, the heavier of the two free commuter papers, is reporting that Kimora Lee Simmons' Baby Phat line will be holding it's Fashion Week runway show in Radio City Music Hall.  Could this be the most expensive venue possible?  And is Radio City, which is immense (seating over 3,000) really the best venue for a fashion show?  Will there be opera glasses in the swag bag so you can see the ho-gear on parade?

Most importantly, will Manhattan Offender score an invite to this trainwreck?  Oh, and by "trainwreck" I mean "fiercest of fashion soirees of the highest order".

Six Feet Under, reality check

Six Feet Under produced tears not just because of all the drama, but because the show will be missed.  Tears were welling up during the "In Memoriam" special the hour before.  Tears flowed when it was thought that Willa died.  Tears flowed again when it was realized that this episode featured a birth, not a death.  As the final tears were drying up and the credits were rolling, suddenly reality interceded.  Who in the hell moves to New York City driving a brand new car?

It is assumed that Toyota must have paid at least $5 million for the product placement of Claire driving across the country in her brand new blue Toyota Prius.  Perhaps the rest of the country would not have had a double-take at the notion, but most Manhattan transplants know that the first thing one does when moving to the city is sell your car, not buy a new one.

High Life Low Life serves up Softees, kills self

The long-running Daniel Nardicio party "High Life, Low Life" came to an end last night, or, um, this morning.  To say 'thank you' or maybe just to fatten up the skinny crowd, Nardicio and hostess Miss Sweetie served up a Mister Softee open bar from 1 to 2 a.m. with The World Famous *BOB* as cone mistress.

Many a familiar face from the years of High Life, Low Life were on hand.  Former Slide bartender (and current Cock bartender) Chuck worked the door and the crowd.  Sweetie was joined on stage by Sha-Boom-Boom, Carrie, and *BOB*.  One of the fastest wits in town, Rose Royale, found her way through the bevy of boys.  And of course, the infamous go-go boys (including this one).

Couldn't close the place out (as we have too many times before) as other venues beckoned, but no doubt there were many inebreations, erections, and infections resulting from the big buh-bye.

Photo evidence of the high jinks (and low jinks, too) is here.

Scariest thing I'll see this weekend

That's enough. No more internet for me.
Via Queer Click.