Manhattan Offender

The Irish Pride Parade

Nothing bad about the Irish will be said here, but their big holiday could be done without.  St. Patrick's Day could be this nice demure little holiday where  people of Irish descent perhaps wear a little pin on their lapel or send a lovely card out to their friends.

But no.  This is New York.  Yoo-neek Noo Yawk.  Everything is oversize, including badges of ethnic identity.  Growing up in Indiana, there were two choices: you were blonde-haired and blue-eyed or you were "other".  Moving to New York and confronted with the repeated question, "What's your background?" spurred multiple requests to my parents who in turn had to call other relatives to piece our little tree together.  (German/English/Norweigan/Native American and absolutlely no Irish, by the way.)

All of which is to say that these Ethnifests ring hollow for me.  Even Oktoberfest, which is, as the name implies, a harvest festival thrown in October, is perverted here into some odd German Pride thang.  Why it is that the Irish Pride Parade is allowed to shut down a huge swath of traffic is beyond me.  What can be told is why you should not even bother going to work on Saint Patrick's Day.  And by told, I mean big graphic pictures of people, places and things that just completely turn my stomach regarding #@$#ing Saint Patrick's Day.

Faking your way through the Super Bowl: part 5

Sad to say, today is Chico the intern's last day.  It seems he may have fabricated the entire Tara Reid piece, which was a shock as it seemed so authentic.  His research skills were nil and sadly, we have not really conveyed any usable information regarding the Super Bowl.  All he really had to do was plagiarize this (which is a quite excellent "Super Bowl for the Clueless" article from OutSports).

As for a Super Bowl party, check out Gym, in Chelsea.  There will be drink specials and plenty of footbal fags fans on hand starting at 1 p.m. on Sunday.  But be sure to see possible the best counter-programming ever as Liza Minelli appears on Inside the Actors Studio at 9 p.m. on Bravo (of course).

Faking your way through the Super Bowl: part 3

One of the key reasons for bringing in Chico the intern was his claim to having access to celebrities.  Finding himself in a quandry trying to explain the basic process of a football game Chico gave a quick call to his friend, Tara Reid who had this to say:

"Football is, like, so awesome.  So, okay, first you get to the stadium in your Land Rover or Escalade or whatever.  Then you pull out your keg and start tailgating.  There's totally tons of guys around and they are so the best people you will ever meet.  And they'll be grilling and playing music and just being, like, wild.  So after a while you go to the stadium and you go to your seats, but nobody ever stays in their seats.  And these guys start buying you beers.  Oh, and don't smoke at the seats.  You have to go to VIP for that.  If you hear someone start singing, you have to put your hand on your heart and make a serious face, because if the camera catches you goofing, you will so be in Celebrity Living the next day.  But after the lady sings - oh, yeah, this year the lady is Aretha Franklin, right? - but after that, the totally hot players come on the field.  And I always know at least half of them and they are totally the best people you will ever know.  They will always hold back your hair while your puking on a beach in St. Barts, you know?  So the two teams come out and one of them kicks the ball and everybody just goes nuts, like nuts.  Then there are downs and kickoffs and yelling and huddling and quarterbacks and kickbacks and all of this stuff going on and you can start yelling "Defense" and whatever and people will start doing these big crowd waves, but don't do it in time with them because you can totally attract more boys and attention and cameras by totally messing it up and they'll all be like, "Ha!  Look at Tara.  She is the bomb."  So at half-time the concert starts and this year it is the Rolling Stones whom I'm totally friends with so I'm out of my mind to see them.  Oh and don't even start talking to me about that nipple thing.  Been there, right?  So then they like start the game again and oh, did I mention you can have food ordered to your seat?  Some people do that, but I like to throw the popcorn around, and goof on people, but if you eat in your seat there will totally be pictures the next day and it will totally be, like, "Tara eats in large portions.  Not Normal" in US, right?  Anyway, so when the game ends there are like all these afterparties and clubs and the players are totally wanting to have the best time of their lives and you just go along with the winning team because, you know, whoever it is you were totally for them anyway, right?  And, so that's, you know, football, Chico.  Omigod, your like one of the best people anybody could ever know."

This intern thing might not be working out.

(And maybe he should have used Star Jones instead of Tara.  Via Queerty via Perez.)