Really, you're just not going to see a lede better than this:

Former New York police commissioner and failed nominee for head of Homeland Security Bernie Kerik can't even catch a break on eBay. Granted, Kerik's police jacket (unmet starting bid: $1,000) and other memorabilia were being auctioned by alleged Kerik pal John Picciano, who "said he lives in Brazil." An "annoyed cop" griped, "Who wants a perp's jacket?". Unfortunately the auctions were pulled from eBay yesterday, so you will have to seek elsewhere for your photo of Kerik "hobnobbing" with Wayne Newton.

The ever-irrepressible scamps at TMZ.com finally put their irrepressibility to good use and got their hands on the criminal complaint filed against Page Six editor Richard Johnson. At 12:01 a.m. this morning, in front of 425 West 14th Street, according to the complaint, Johnson was at the wheel of his Ford Escape with his keys in the ignition and engine running when NYPD Officer Robert Gluck says he was "intoxicated in that the defendant had watery and bloodshot eyes, had slightly slurred speech and had the odor of an alcoholic beverage on his breath." Why this resort of an anecdotal description of his drunkenness? Because RJ, the report says, refused to take a Breathalyzer.

West 14th Street at Seventh Avenue, about 7 p.m. last night. That's an NYPD Traffic Enforcement car stalled in the middle of the street and creating — what's the word? — traffic all the way back to Sixth. Ah, irony.

At Delancey and Essex streets, yesterday.

Gay blogger Andy Towle (by which mean he runs a blog on gay topics, not that he's a blogger who happens to like boys) today answers a question that has plagued us all at one point or another: How do you possibly get the Chelsea boys to pay attention to you? Turn out it's easy: Ride an enormous white horse down Eighth Avenue. Duh.

We haven't had a chance yet to comprehensively check the entire paper, but we're confident we've identified the best quote in today's Times. From the frontpage article on the resurgent popularity of police horses:

The president of the Black Student Union when we were in college, a native of Southern California, used to comment that in Los Angeles, "When white people do it, it's a melee; when black people do it, it's a riot." We were reminded of that aphorism today by Jewblogger Steven I. Weiss, who looked at local press coverage of a, um, disturbance in Brooklyn last night.

This morning's Sun brought us the best news we've seen all day (with the caveat that we saw the Tom DeLay news yesterday):

Last we checked in on The New York Sun — New York's little rightwing paper that could, the offices of which, we're reliably informed, were placed under the protective gaze of the NYPD after the paper published one of the Danish Mohammed cartoons two weeks ago — cultural editor David Propson had submitted his resignation after editor and founder Seth Lipsky fired one of Propson's critics out from under him, and Propson was taking some time away from the office to decide whether his resignation was really for real. Because we're always fond of a good denouement, we're now pleased to report that Propson finally decided to exit the fledgling daily and had his last day there on Monday. (Why his name remains on the paper's masthead — we checked one of the unclaimed copies delivered to our building's mailroom each day — is anyone's guess.)

So we actually planned to show up yesterday at No Pants 2006, in which a group of wacky kids were to ride the 6 train pantsless in a bravura bit of street theater. We weren't going to depants, of course, but we thought maybe we'd "happen" to be on the same train so that we could watch things as they happened. (It's rare that our voyeuristic and reportorial instincts so nicely overlap.) But then we suspected that a few people we knew might be among the depantsers, and we didn't want to be recognized. Plus the folks called and offered to buy us a late brunch. So we didn't go.

You know how those run-of-the-mill beat cops — young guys, presumably rookies — standing around on, say, the West Fourth subway platform or near the Astor Place cube, just keeping an eye on things, always seem thoroughly unhappy? How sometimes you start to feel a little Bedford Fallsish and try to catch their eye as you walk past so you can say, "Mornin', officer," but they always sullenly look away? We always assumed that's because, well, they're New Yorkers, and New Yorkers are always a little bit sullen, and also because it must suck to spend hours at a time standing up, walking around, in the cold, and not really doing anything.

The Times has a mildly disturbing (but not really surprising) piece today revealing that since 2004, NYPD officers have participated undercover in a number of local protests, demonstrations and rallies. The covert surveillance has been revealed in a video of unofficial archive footage made available to the Times:

As wandering friend-to-the-bloggers Bucky Turco points out, some mass transit is still thriving:

He said, she said.

Forgive us if we're a bit sluggish this morning, but we were blown up last night (19 different times, no less) in that captivating terror attack we were warned about. Serves us right, we suppose, for vigilantly supporting the MTA over the TLC.

The long arm of the law has no mercy when it comes to Sandra Catena. The 47-year-old dance instructor learned that the hard way while daring to sit on a bench at the Rivington Playground. She was approached by two officers asking if she had any children with her; when she told them no, she was served with a convenient little ticket. Apparently, it's illegal for an adult to sit on a playground bench unless with children, and now Catena is looking at a $1000 fine and up to 90 days in jail.

We know we're supposed to be all technologically cutting-edge, being that we're bloggers and all, but we have a confession to make: We have never, ever listened to a podcast. (We've long suspected that the real phenomenon is the media's excitement for writing about podcasts, rather than anyone's actual excitement for using them.) A Newsday report today, however, suggests we might need to change our tune:

It seems we're about the only people in New York City — well, us and that tipster — who didn't already know all about the taxicab cops. But in case there are one or two other ignorami out there, we'll pass on the details we've learned today about these stealth vehicles.

We've heard rumors about this in the past, but never before have we seen photographic proof. Now, thanks to a devoted and cameraphone-wielding reader, we present documentary evidence: There really are cop cars dressed up as taxicabs.