Manhattan Offender

Past, Over - The whores of York (and Madison and Lex, too)

Sometimes I receive telephone calls from The Past, a mysterious entity that remembers where things used to be in New York before Starbucks and Whole Foods came to town.  Originally posted at Gawker, March 16, 2007 .

"Hi."

"Hey there, nymphobraniac. I'm having such a bitchin' week! You won't believe it, but..."

"Sorry, but I don't have time for The Past right now, man. I'm on the way to the office, and I'm late already."

"Woo. An office? How lame. Dude, you should work from home."

"If stuffing envelopes would pay my rent, I'd totally go for that."

"That's not the kind of stuffing I was thinking of. Baby, you should be a whore."

John McCain has been his party's presumptive nominee for months now and was only just now able to select a running mate. Granted this tells us more about the media than it does McCain.

Why is this obvious story hook not pursued?  McCain has waited until Obama, who started the process much later, chosen his nominee.  Is this because McCain is simply calculating?  Or indecisive?  Or is it because, well, he really doesn't want to be stuck with Romney?

In the end it is just another illustration of the majority of reporters being unable to find a story unless it is fed to them.

Link: CNN Political Ticker: All politics, all the time Blog Archive - Sources: McCain to reveal VP Friday in Ohio « - Blogs from CNN.com.

Past, Over - Roxy as Brigadoon

Sometimes I receive telephone calls from The Past, a mysterious entity that remembers where things used to be in New York before Starbucks and Whole Foods came to town.  Originally posted at Gawker, March 8, 2007 .

"Hello?"

"Hi."

"Um, The Past?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. You usually insult me right off. I didn't recognize you."

"Well, sorry, um, dummy."

"Dummy? That's not the aggressive type of retort that I've come to expect. You okay?"

"I just heard a rumor that The Roxy is closing."

Craigslist ad of the day - Bored Narcissist

Somebody named Jess sent me a text message and left me a voicemail that she loves me. Verizon and AT&T, though, are keeping my love from me.

Taking the phone off the charger this morning, the number that left me text messages and called and left voicemail is a mystery. 

First, being old-school, voicemail is checked.  "I love you," it proclaims.  My friends are liberal with the use of "I love you" though, so the mystery remains.  Also?  The voice is unfamiliar, and sort of femmy.

Next up are the text messages.  "Good night baby :X <Later. Jess ;)>"  The precise meaning of the emoticons escapes me.  (They're passive aggressive in my view.  Just say what you mean.)  Now there is a name for my lover, and it is "Jess".  The femmy voice was femmy from femality, and the memory is prodded for that girl named Jess met a few months ago in a bar in Nolita and whether those three drinks really were enough for me to hand over my number.

The second message leaves me hanging though.  One of those "Verizon doesn't like to play with Cingular so we're going to frustrate everyone involved by making the discovery of the picture sent to you not instantaneous, but long and drawn out.  To make matters worse, you'll have to use this extremely long and not-at-all-memorizable username and password." 

As toggling between screens was a headache (no copy and paste on iPhone), it wasn't until I was in front of a screeen that the image of my new lover could be seen.  The message-checking site is down though, as it always seems to be when needed.  The mystery of Jess will (not in any way) consume me for the entire day.

UPDATE 1:  Yes, it's AT&T now, not

Hey, CNN, like, this "Leslie Sanchez" person? Is she blowing Blitzer or something, because, let's face it. The woman is a fucking tard.

So, like, she's a lady and a Republican and she has a latin surname, pero incluso no la felicitaría llamándola un coco! She just spouts talking points and contributes nothing.

Granted, she did make an impressive showing on The Apprentice.  (Actually?  She was sent home in the fourth week.  Also actually?  It was the Martha Stewart version of the show.)  Other than that, her career has mostly been about being an opinion-spout for the Republican party in one way or another. 

While worse options exist (see Malkin, Michelle), surely CNN can find someone with an education or background that exists beyond that of public punditry.  Ugh.   

Link: Democratic National Convention report card - CNN.com.

* - I wouldn't even compliment her by calling her a coconut.

Via Wonkette

Past, Over - Pot Smoke Linger(ie)s on Second Street

Sometimes I receive telephone calls from The Past, a mysterious entity that remembers where things used to be in New York before Starbucks and Whole Foods came to town.  Originally posted at Gawker, March 1, 2007 .

"Hello?"

"Heh. Um. Do you, uh, have Prince Alfred in a can?"

"Let me guess. The Past?"

"Dude. You're so fun."

"Gosh, um..."

"Psych!  You're not. At all. But I still love you. What's up?"

"Just sort of waiting for my dealer to call."

"Oh, how long ago did you beep him?"

"Beep him?"

"Yeah. You beep your dealer. As soon as he can get to a pay phone he calls you and tells you when he'll be coming by. Convenient if you're in that 'too-paranoid-or-wired-to-leave-the-house' mode, but not really preferable to just going out to get what you need."

"Like going to the dealer's house?"

"I would never send you to a crackhouse."

"We don't have those so much anymore, although there is the occasional meth lab."

"Meth?  As in crystal meth?  Are you in New York or the Ozarks?  Insane. Do you ever go to The Lingerie Store?"

You know how songs get stuck in your head and the only way to dispel them is to pass them on to another person? Mitigating is that I have the Jellybean Benitez mix in my head and am serving to you La India "Dancing on the Fire" in her freestyle ferocity.

Link: Dancing On The Fire (Live 1988) - La India.

Want to sue Twitter? Afraid though of their legal department? Don't worry; they don't have one!

My little Twitter experiment is pretty much over.  It took just a few days to realize that the minutiae of my life fills too much time to have a moment to report on it.  Others still tweet along and the site does continue to grow.  It's still a startup though, as the the story of XGirlA, a Twittering X-Men character, illustrates:

Months ago, I read an advance script for the "Astonishing X-Men" comic, in which the X-Men character Armor was seen posting on Twitter as XGirlA. I wanted to see if the writer Warren Ellis or Marvel Comics had registered a Twitter identity. They hadn't. So I did.

I mirrored her posts in the comics, then wrote a kind of meta-commentary on the San Diego Comic Con, and was considering writing an ongoing narrative bouncing off on events in "Astonishing X-Men."

However last week, Marvel Entertainment sent a legal claim to Twitter and the small start up kowtowed, dumping the Twitter ID. After asking what was happening, a Twitter representative told me, "I'd rather resolve this issue without getting Marvel's legal department involved because we are a very small start-up and lack a legal department."

Link: Lying In The Gutters

So here comes that story again where the 'friends', back in Brooklyn, who briefly spoke of them with smirks and grins and (two days later) pretty much forgot them until that one friend, the one that 'writes', decided to rehash that tired old story.

You know the one.  Where the people who left the city are seen as sort of anti-heroes?  And the photography (showing "quirky architectural features" or, even better, "relaxing in the yard") when blown up betrays the faces of the illustrious subjects revealing a melancholy tucked behind laugh-lines that fucking breaks your heart?  Because you understand what they have done and why they have done it and deep inside for a femtosecond you too could be convinced to be the same?

Then you stop reading the article and toss the New York magazine in your bag, because you've read this story, like, every month for every year since you moved here sixteen years ago.  And you're just not fucking going anywhere.  Especially not fucking Buffalo.

Link: What Could Make Someone Want to Leave New York and Move to Buffalo? -- New York Magazine.

Via