It's hard to single out the most objectionable part of this weekend's Modern Love column ("Little Girl Likes Computers") but were we pressed we'd have to choose the following paragraphs, which contain the lamest namedrops in recorded history:
Hanging out in the real world one weekend, I went to a Flavorpill party. I was sucking down a cigarette with the head of Flavorpill when our cellphones rang at the same time. We flipped them open to see who was contacting us. He turned to me and said, "Dennis? He's really got to go someplace new." I looked down at my screen and noticed that Dennis had sent out a Dodgeball message that he was at a bar on the Lower East Side — the fourth such message that week. I turned to the Flavorpill guy and said, "I didn't know you were in Dennis's network."
No shit, the head of Flavorpill? And Dennis Crowley? Tell me more! Did any of the dudes from Thrillist show up?
We're not sure what's sadder: The fact that this made it into The Times yesterday, or the fact that you could have read it on the web six months ago. Modern love indeed.