Bernie Madoff is adjusting comfortably to life in the North Carolina hick prison which will be his home for the rest of his days. He can take the bad food and the shitty job; but one thing makes Bernie weep.

What's the worst part of the decline of newspapers? Oh maybe it's all the innocent people who will DIE. Every time you don't buy a paper you practically slip the noose around a condemned man's neck!

Last week's convergence of beer, hipsters and destructive tendencies at 196 Grand left porcelain toilets shattered, windows broken and four men in jail. Its legacy has not only been marked in dented drywall, videos and an unreasonable amount of Gawker posts but also in mysterious phone calls. Apparently some dude who goes by the name Tony Robots has been receiving phone calls from the NYPD about the property; they seem to think he's the owner. Soon Mr. Robots was fielding calls from real estate agents who also think Domo Arigato Mr. Robots is the owner. Trouble is Mr. Robots isn't. And so he did what any man with the last name Robots would do in that situation: he Asked Metafilter.