Are coffee shops, of all fucking places, going to become the latest bastion of rudeness in our society, in which a fellow American who simply wants to purchase a cup of coffee and sit quietly, for nine hours, typing on a laptop, with papers and shit spread out all over the table as if this is his personal fucking office, is "not welcome?"
Wall Street was full of naked people this morning. Not in a metaphorical sense! A tipster sent us this video of a man doing some vigorous dick-swinging exercises outside of 75 Wall Street this morning. And that's not all:
It's not just passengers that are acting up on the subway. Employees of the MTA are misbehaving as well! Here's footage that a YouTube user (and Bloombergian anti-smoking activist, we're guessing) recorded of a couple of MTA workers smoking inside the Christopher Street 1 Train station on Sunday morning. Are you totally outraged yet? Is the smell of smoke better or worse than the usual subway odor of urine and feces? We're just grateful that these guys didn't follow in the footsteps of these people and strip off all their clothes.
Following today's official legalization of same-sex marriage in New York, Mayor Michael Bloomberg opened up Gracie Mansion to serve as both host and officiator of longtime staffers John Feinblatt and Jonathan Mintz's gay wedding. The couple's two daughters shared flower girl responsibilities during the short ceremony, which ended with a double dose of the traditional Jewish glass-breaking ritual. A video of the wedding's highlights is above.
Nobody bats an eye if a bike gets stolen, or even if two or three bikes get stolen off the same rack. But stealing three dozen fucking bikes at once? That's when you have to stand up and admit: "You, sir or sirs or madam or madams, are an ambitious and talented bicycle thief or thieves whose 'can-do' attitude will take you far in the world of thievery."
In the olden days before the U.S. economy devolved into a pure gold-and-canned-goods bartering system, Wall Street guys were the ones who rented all the gaudy, overpriced good apartments. Now that Wall Street's been decimated, who will the real estate industry turn to, to unload all those new condos with "Wii rooms?" Oh, they will sell these pricey spaces to "bloggers," it says here. Hahaha.
Alfa Choice, a 29 year-old former high school biology teacher, drove with her 44 year-old boyfriend, Christopher Shears, to the middle of the Tappan Zee bridge yesterday morning. There, the couple parked and exited their Chevy Tahoe. Both were naked. They climbed on the roof of their car and then over the bridge's anti-suicide fence. Choice reportedly fell first, "either slipping or falling" (or possibly pushed); Shears followed her over. They were later pulled from the water nearly 200 feet below. Choice died. Shears is in critical condition. What was that all about?
It's early, but this should be a lock for Most Awful Story of the Day: Isayah Muller (pictured) graduated from high school in the Bronx on Tuesday. Afterwards, he went out to a celebration dinner with his family. When his father, Andre, got back in the car after the dinner, he found that a $200 bottle of cologne was missing. Andre, with his family in the car, drove back to the parking garage where he'd been parked and confronted the attendants there, accusing them of stealing the cologne. They let him search the office. He couldn't find it. So, police say, he attacked one of the parking attendants, punching him. The other attendant grabbed a knife to defend his colleague.
Graduation season always brings with it entertaining tales of lazy, desperate, or just plain dumb graduation speakers, who chose to plagiarize their speeches. Already this year we've had a medical school dean ripping off Atul Gawande, and a law school graduate pleading ignorance about the fact that plagiarism is frowned upon. But now, I think we've found our official Dumbest Speech Plagiarism of the 2011 Graduation Season.
Though newsroom budgets in our nation's capital have been slashed again and again, the Washington Post staunchly maintains its editorial commitment to keeping its Hipness Desk fully staffed. The young, hip vibe that has swept the town like a stiff Potomac wind is transforming the sleepy riverside burg into an honest-to-god destination spot—not just for hip homegrown anarchists, but for the hippest demographic of all: New Yorkers.
Last week, a man imprisoned in New York said that he shot Tupac in an infamous 1994 robbery on the orders of Jimmy Henchman, a hip hop industry power player who became a wanted man earlier this year when he was charged with cocaine distribution. After a month on the run, Jimmy was arrested yesterday, holed up in a secret, faraway hideout:
