January 2009
69 posts
December 2008
103 posts
To Whit:
The City, MTV’s sorta-anticipated spinoff of The Hills has but one flaw: its New York City setting. LA swan Whitney Port visibly struggles to keep up with the quick snark of her new Manhattan friends. And the production’s missteps are more apparent in New York than those in The Hills’ LA setting: Did Whitney’s boyfriend really just walk onto Olivia Palermo’s private...
The Year in Bars →
Even before the great Wall Street Massacre, 2008’s bar openings seemed to foretell a recession. While previous years were all about “mixologists” serving up 20-plus-dollar cocktails with sophisticated ingredients (still, over 20 dollars? Is one of the ingredients Simon Hammerstein’s own blood? Are they garnished with one of Olivia Palermo’s veneers?), this year saw a return to happy-hour humility,...
8 Fictional Ailments →
Actually, I’m pretty sure you can catch whatever Robin Williams had in Jack.
Well, my family certainly knows where I live.
Among my Christmas take: a collection of New Yorker pieces, a hand-me-down book about The New Yorker, a book on Manhattan cafe society in the ’20s, and a subscription to The New York Times.
A very serious offer.
If you plan my New Year’s Eve for me, there’s a bottle of Moët with your name on it. Your name’s Chandon, right?
Overheard in the office: vodka bar edition
“What kind of vodka is this?
“Is there some kind of vodka hotline you can call to get them here earlier?”
“I would leave at 2:30 if there wasn’t vodka coming.”
“[Picking up a bottle] Would the guy notice if I just took one? He’d be like, ‘[imitating brand rep’s Australian accent] That was oyd!’”
Vodka guy:...
Fortuitous Tuesday.
I’ve never needed a vodka bar in the office as much as I do today.
Doo the right thing.
In a recent post about The Hills, I bemoaned a recurring mispronunciation among the cast:
Elodie was always my favorite because she was THE ONLY PERSON to correctly pronounce the French name of stupid LA club “Les Deux.” Seriously, everyone’s always like, “Lay Doo! Lay Doo!” to the point where I just want to call the mayor of LA and mandate that all city clubs must be arbitrary phonetic words,...
The Hills’ 5 Best Guest Stars →
Christmas came early and there’s a big box of Frankie Delgado under the tree.
Ideas for stocking stuffers I can steal from the...
Energy drinks.
We have a bunch of wooden geese for some reason. I doubt one would be missed.
Collector’s Edition Sparks.
A Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist promotional gumball machine.
Hey you, I know you.
Now I can’t say why, but it came to my attention Sunday evening that Bud Cort (of that totally gross postcoital scene with Ruth Gordon fame) had a minor role as Romero the diner owner in Coyote Ugly, 2000’s most successful softcore wide-release. And he looked like this.
Finding out a gentle-featured star of a beloved cult classic is now paunchy and bald and lurking in your TNT Movies...
True romance.
I’ve concluded that all romances, great or small, are predicated upon a common obsession with something: like food or work, films or musicians, highbrow tastes or reveling in one’s own plebeian nature. Eventually, you’ll say all there is to be said on your shared interest and either the romance will die or you’ll transfer that preoccupation to one another.
The New York Times tears your holiday traditions a...
“It’s a Wonderful Life is a terrifying, asphyxiating story about growing up and relinquishing your dreams, of seeing your father driven to the grave before his time, of living among bitter, small-minded people. It is a story of being trapped, of compromising, of watching others move ahead and away, of becoming so filled with rage that you verbally abuse your children, their teacher and your...
Commuting.
When I was young, I attended a daycare across the street from my house. My mom would pull me on a sled to and from school. I really wish she’d pick me up from work today.
7 Things I Still Like About Flying →
Budget cutbacks and heavy security have taken most of the fun out of the friendly skies (dear people in line, stop making jokes about feeling like cattle—I am officially over cattle jokes). But let us not be so pessimistic! Friends, countrymen, fat Canadians who get two seats for the price of one, there’s still so much to love about the miracle of flight.
New York, you're killing me.
During my commute home this evening, I accidentally stepped on a woman’s foot and she retaliated BY TRYING TO TRIP ME. That is not an appropriate response.
Child, cast thine eyes away from yon Jumbotron.
I attended a Neil Young concert last night at Madison Square Garden. I’m a touch allergic to Young’s brand of arena rock, and the too-professional camerawork broadcast some sad realities about the aging rock star on MSG’s large, suspended monitors. Young’s iconic sideburns now give way to old-man jowls. His blazer, purposely streaked in fluorescent paint, made him look...
Ben has his own celebri-tern suggestions. →
Nobodies need not apply.
Now that every publication in the city has hired celebrity interns as a wacky, hilarious way of saying “no, you can’t even do indentured servitude for us, real writers,” EIC Jonny Diamond has given me vague permission to put out a formal call for an L Magazine celebri-tern.
If you know any famous/infamous/microfamous persons that would like to take out my garbage and get drunk...
On risk.
I always have an urge to order fish and chips in 24-hour diners in the winter.
Ghosts of New York.
The most apparent of Facebook’s disservices to my well-being is that I learn, in real time, which of my hundreds of acquaintances move to New York. I live in constant fear of crossing paths with them. I feel threatened if they appear to be having greater successes or are attending better events than me. Recently, Facebook announced to me that a college classmate and a sometime friend in...
Hello again.
I enjoy watching rehashings of personal and cultural tidbits I’m already familiar with (eg: covers of popular songs); they’re like a palate cleanser for my opinions. Some suggestions:
-The Hills clip shows.
-YouTube fan videos.
-Friendship collages.
“[The] L Magazine, the little (print!) listings guide that could, threw a —...”
– you can crash our party anytime, Daily Intel.
“I have Lincoln Hawk stuck in my head.”
– Bexo. And you can too.
Story of a bad pickup attempt that is suddenly...
I never really get picked up by men so much as harassed. There was the guy who flashed me from a window in the halfway house next to my office building, the man on the street who asked me if I “left [my] ass at home.”
When I was in Miami this past March, the tabloids were abuzz with sightings of Owen Wilson and Jennifer Aniston out on the town while they were filming a movie. Locals...