• Avoid any guy who lists "blogger" on his resume. The reasons to do this are too numerous to list.
• Avoid any guy who starts a sentence with "If you Google me…"
• Avoid any guy who quotes Judd Apatow and/or refers to his friends as "my buddies."
• Avoid any guy who watches Gossip Girl.
• Avoid any guy who crashes the office Christmas party. He's there to bang secretaries. Unless he's unemployed, in which case he's there to shmooze, pound free booze, and then bang secretaries.
• Avoid any guy who is a lawyer. He's either about to lose his job or desperately wants to, so he can have an excuse to start that baseball card trading business he's always dreamed of. In the meantime, he will expect you to support him while he "gets back on his feet."
• Avoid any guy who keeps old Victoria's Secret catalogues in his bathroom. Find some respectable Internet porn, for chrissakes.
• Avoid any guy who saw The Road and liked it. He'll never commit.
• Avoid any guy who lives on the L train.
• Avoid any guy with more than 500 followers on Twitter. His virtual ego will be inflated to levels his physical existence can't match.
• Avoid any guy who claims not to own a TV. Everyone owns a fucking TV. You may be too broke to pay for cable, but you own a TV.
• Avoid any guy who drinks gin martinis and sneers at vodka. He'll be shitty in bed.
• Avoid any guy who reads Gawker.
• Avoid any guy who says the same thing over and over, but thinks that if he puts the emphasis on a different word it means he's right ("It is Ridley Scott's BEST movie. No, it IS Ridley Scott's best movie.")
• Avoid any guy who tries to be cool by saying Megan Fox "isn't that hot." Please. Vaginas don't cause blindness.
• Avoid snowboarders. Which won't be hard, since they won't be around much this month.
• Avoid any guy who tweets about his bodily emissions. Particularly while they're happening.
• Avoid any guy who has had naked photos of himself posted on Deadspin.
• Avoid any guy who is the "mayor" of any location on FourSquare.
• Avoid any guy you meet in the basement of Lit. Or any basement, for that matter.
• Avoid any guy who puts "gasm" at the end of words. "Dude, that was a total party-gasm" or "man what a throw-gasm by Brady" all apply. (This rule also works for "tard.")
• Avoid any guy with a bad haircut. Because he looks funny.
• Avoid any guy who shows any signs of having read The Game. "My friends all thought you were hot, but I wasn't so sure" is a clear sign. He'll be rubbish in bed.
• Avoid any guy who has more than 10 female numbers programmed into his phone. He plans to inseminate all of them, if he hasn't already.
• Avoid any guy who tells you his ex-girlfriend was crazy. He made her that way.
• Avoid any guy who refers to the Dallas Cowboys as "America's Team." Because he is a douche.
• Avoid any guy who shaves more than 20% of his body surface area.
• Avoid any guy who is "microfamous." His name is John Carney and he's married.
• Avoid any guy who has done speed dating, match.com or j-date. He has herpes and carpal tunnel.
• Avoid any guy who claims to have written, be writing, or aspire to write a novel. Seriously. Fucking run.
• Avoid any guy who has business cards that say "Internet Entrepreneur."
• Avoid any guy who is into Premier League soccer. He'll show up at your apartment on a Sunday morning and vomit on your floor.
• Avoid any guy who checks his power ranking on Mediaite more than once a week.
• Avoid any guy who brags about spending his unemployment check on vintage Styx records.
• Avoid any guy who tells you he "really hates condoms." I really hate periods. God is cruel.
• Avoid any guy who wears ironic glasses. He thinks he's the geeky-but-sweet hero in an '80s movie, and that it'll get him laid.
• Avoid any guy who works at Google. Wait, what am I saying – date any and all guys who work at Google. Have you HAD their chili-smoked ribs?
• Avoid any guy who comments on blogs under the username "John Galt."
• Avoid any guy who uses Tom & Jerrys as an office space.
• Avoid any guys who write lists like this and post them on the Internet. They're under the delusion that they have a chance with any of the women listed.

This was originally published on John's Tumblr

It's that time of year (again) when even the most independent of lads can get a little desperate for more companionship than one can find in the bottom of a bottle of Jameson's Irish Whiskey. If I thought it would make any difference, I'd tell you that you should avoid becoming involved with the lasses during this season. It's just too dangerous, and will almost certainly lead to disaster. But it wouldn't make a difference. These winter nights are too long and too cold to avoid the urge to spend them with someone shorter and warmer.

So, instead, I offer you this guide to holiday romance.

1. Avoid any girl who has lots of overly-enthusiastic followers on tumblr. She's an attention whore.

2. Avoid dating a girl just because she is your favorite bartender. Where are you going to drink when you want to forget her?

3. Avoid girl who tells you she she is on a cleanse. She hates herself.

4. Avoid Kirsten Dunst. She's a walking time-bomb.

5. Avoid any girl who frequently blog about her sex life. You know how that one goes.

6. Avoid any girl who works for a Hearst magazine. She's about to lose her job and you'll have to pay for everything.

7. Avoid any girl who really likes girls who blog about their sex lives. She's just too lazy to ruin your name right now. She'll find a way later.

8. Avoid any girl who ever mentions The Box or Beatrice Inn. She has herpes and just wants your for your cocaine.

9. Avoid any beautiful girl who wears ugly glasses. She thinks she's in a romantic comedy for teens.

10. Avoid any girl who follows you on twitter. She's already stalking you.

11. Avoid any girl who smells too nice all the time. There's something strange happening.

12. Avoid any girl who smokes heavier cigarettes than you. You're already her bitch.

13. Avoid any girl who is a DJ. She'll make you listen to her terrible music.

14. Avoid any girl who didn't like "Once." She's dead inside.

15. Avoid girls whose clothes are all retro, period costumes. Just trust me on this.

16. Avoid ballerinas. She's too flexible and you'll just wind up hurting yourself.

17. Avoid any girl with more tattoos than you. She'll never respect you.

18. Avoid any girl who is still angry because her last boyfriend cheated on her. You'll cheat on her too.

19. Avoid any girl who lives within two blocks of you. It's too soon for that kind of proximity.

20. Avoid any girl you meet in the basement of Lit. That's also Kirstin Dunst.

21. Avoid any girl with tattoos in Chinese. Unless, of course, she's from China.

22. Avoid any girl who drives in NYC. She's already proven she's a nutcase.

23. Avoid any girl you meet in the bar where you and your friends are watching a game. She thinks she's figured out guys. She hasn't. She'll fuck everything up all the while thinking she's very clever about men.

24. Avoid any girl who wears jewelry given to her by her ex-boyfriend on your first date. She is still in love with him, and only him, and will still be wondering why no-one else ever gives her anything nice when she's living with six cats and getting her meals on wheels.

25. Avoid any girl who tells you she hates her ex-boyfriend. She hates herself.

26. Avoid any girl with a bad haircut. She spends enormous amounts of time and money on her hair and if it is still fucked, she's incurable.

27. Avoid any girl with poor hygiene or too much hair where too much hair doesn't belong on women. If you ever attempt to help her out on this score, she'll hate you for it. And then she'll take all your advice and look great for the next guy she sleeps with.

28. Avoid any girl who is "microfamous." Her name is Julia Allison and you'll end up on Gawker.

29. Avoid any girl who has done speed dating, match.com or j-date. She's got commitment issues, and since you're an emotionally unavailable alcoholic, neither of you will ever call each other.

30. Avoid any girl on anti-psychotics. She'll go off her meds one day and plant a corkscrew in your ribcage.

31. Avoid any girl who has dated a website founder. That's also Julia Allison and you'll end up on Gawker.

32. Avoid any girl who has rules or tests for men she dates. She should be on anti-psychotics.

33. Avoid any girl who doesn't drink. Do I need to say anything else here?

34. Avoid any girl who is really, really into tanning. You'll end up on Hot Girls and Douchebags.

35. Avoid any girl who won't make out with you in a taxi. She lacks a properly functioning sexual instinct.

36. Avoid any girl whose best friend just got dumped by her boyfriend. Together they are a committee of manhaters and you are the next target for hate.

37. Avoid any girl who tells you she thinks she feels a spark between the two of you. Her mind is trapped in a Sweet Valley High novel.

38. Avoid any girl who talks about her father on her first date. She'll demand you spend the night at her place but will only want to cuddle.

39. Avoid any girl who won't kiss you if your breath smells like whiskey. She has oral-purity issues that are undesirable.

40. Avoid any girl who wants to monopolize your time on New Year's Eve. The night is too wrought with emotions and memories. Spend time with as many different people as possible or else stay home and alternate heroin and absinthe until you pass out at twenty till midnight. Also, she's probably on ritalin and won't share it.

41. Avoid any girl who won't wear a skirt in winter. The winter is too long as it is without having to do without legs. You'll end up in the stairwell of a Christmas party making out with a girl in skirt.

42. Avoid any girl who cries when she's drunk. Her self-pity will destroy you.

43. Avoid any girl who you think looks even hotter when she is miserable. You will destroy each other.

44. Avoid any girl who tries to come off as more emotionally unavailable and cavalier about relationships than you are. She's secretly a tightly wound bundle of need.

45. Avoid any girl you've dated before. Pace Friedrich, if the first time is tragedy, the second time will just be worse.

46. Avoid any girl in a headband. She's a slave to fashion and will try to make you use expensive hair-products.

47. Avoid any girl you meet at Cocaine Anonymous. She won't do drugs with you.

48. Avoid any girl who you never found attractive before but suddenly looks hot. You're drunk.

49. Avoid any girl who tells you she wasn't interested in you when you first met but has now developed feelings for you. She's just been dumped and is desperate.

50. Avoid any girl who buys you shoes for Christmas. You will return them for ones you like and she'll hate you forever.

52. Avoid any girl you meet at an office party. She is your boss's wife and wants to hurt him.

53. Avoid any girl who knows the names of all the bartenders in more than four bars. She's out of your league.

54. Avoid any girl you meet near the Conde Nast building. She's writing a book and you are going to be in it if you don't watch out.

Bonus Round: Avoid any girl who tells you that you are emotionally unavailable. She's got your number.

[Apologies to the obvious candidates. You know who you are.]

Spencer Morgan is a very good writer for the New York Observer, and another thing about Spencer Morgan is that 100% of his articles are designed to get you mad. Usually they make you mad because he writes about men who are objectionable in one way or another. Then once in a while Spencer Morgan is like "Hey, for a change of pace I think I will play like an objectionable man, myself." This is a pose and it is how he wins, as a journalist. A mad reader is an engaged reader!

So today Spencer Morgan goes and writes a story that is clearly preposterous, on its face, inventing this new made-up term "cheetah" to describe a lady that is not as old as a "cougar" but still likes to "prey" on weak men, and fuck them, for sex, when they are drunk or otherwise vulnerable. He makes sure to say "fuck" and "pussy" a few times, right there in the story, and to quote a bunch of NYC blogger scene guys (AJ Daulerio! John Carney! Lockhart Steele!) breaking down THE GAME, and how Cheetah Women run it on men, just to underscore the very important subtext of this story, which is: "Here is a caricature of the 'Cougar' type of story, which, preposterously, is taken seriously, in the media." Whereas some fake trend stories attempt to get one over on you by making you actually believe a fake trend exists, this story does not. The headline of this story should be, "I Really Hope Many People Get Very Vocally Mad About This Story, And Talk About Sexism, Because Then It Would Be Funny How Seriously They Took This Story." (It's a bit unwieldy, yes).

Rachel Sklar is so mad about this story!

Spencer Morgan: Winning by making people mad.

[Disclosure: I am a male though. Pic via]

Contact him now. Before he becomes a star. [Pic via]

All Alex did in this case was to hire a plane to fly over California beaches towing a banner that said "REGGIE MILLER STOP PURSUING MARRIED WOMEN," which—let's be honest—makes Alex look worse than Reggie. Particularly because the woman in question, Ali Kay, is not married. But this is a step toward civility for Alex, according to the New York Post; in 2003, AVF caught an assault charge (later expunged!) for beating up a dude who tried flirting with Ali:

Von Furstenberg's victim, Rowen Seibel, said he was sitting in his car at around 1 in the morning when Alex — also in a car — put his vehicle in reverse and repeatedly slammed it into Seibel's, according to court papers.

Von Furstenberg then got out of his car, smashed Seibel in the face and head with his fist, threw him to the ground and kicked him, court papers allege.

So, progress! We hope this was not due to intimidation by Reggie Miller, though. He's no Anthony Mason.
[AVF pic: AP. Ali Kay pic via]

Granted, Sheila McClear wrote about this last year, Matt Harvey did this at the New York Press back in January, and in what reads less like a party report and more like Heart of Darkness: NYC '09 Edition, Jenna from Jezebel channeled her inner Josef Conrad to dive headfirst into the New and Improved FMF earlier in the week. I would recommend reading her piece, first, but it's kind of terrifying.

But maybe the Times discovered something different in their findings, maybe they found something to like about this entire enterprise. After all, this is the Sunday Styles, a section of the New York Times almost entirely devoted to attempts at instilling an inferiority complex in the hoi polloi. Maybe they saw it through a different, less cynical lens, one that cynics can't permeate.

Or not. Try this on for size:

"From my experience, I've dated lawyers and doctors and they're nice; I just prefer finance," Ms. Yanush said, before applying a fresh gloss of candy-apple-red lipstick in the ladies room. "My girlfriends who are in long-term relationships with finance guys are very happy."

Or this:

Alan Nieves, 24, a derivatives salesman for an investment bank, confirmed that when it comes to who attracts whom, "There's a system in place and that's how it is," adding, "It's the New York scene."

Or this:

A 25-year-old financial analyst who was double-fisting glasses of Johnnie Walker Black, said that identifying yourself as a banker ("dropping the banker bomb" as he put it) had traditionally been a potent lure on the dating scene. "As the recession got worse, the magic bullet lost some of its mojo," said the analyst, who asked not to be named to protect his employer, a private equity firm, from the publicity associated with the evening. "All my paralegal friends were suddenly getting dates and my banker friends weren't." His own social life, at least, did not suffer because of recession, he said, but he still didn't see the potential to meet someone special this night. "Let's just say I'm not going to find my future ex-wife here," he said.

The lovely thing about Times writer Katherine Bindley's report is how hard she struggles with not writing something along the lines of DICKBAGS, MANY OF YOU, especially when she takes to quoting to invitation: "'We are here to announce the balance is restoring itself to the ecosystem of the New York dating community,' the party organizers said on their cheeky Web site." Somewhere, buried deep within the confines of the Sunday Styles editorial bullpen, there has to be a style guide filled with euphemisms like "cheeky" their writers are forced to use in place of designations like "goddamn ridiculous." It's probably a great read.

Meanwhile, in two separate apartments buried deep within Murray Hill, a second or third walk of shame/point of pride is being recounted to a group of well-to-do bankers or fashion workers. Soon, they will marry, and one day, after appearing in the Weddings & Celebrations pages, spring forth children from their loins. And when asked where they met by their children one day, they can point them to this website, and tales of double-fisting Johnnie B. and laughs about lying on the application will ensue. Possibly followed by a moment of very loud, silent disquiet.

Banker Seeks Beauty: Must Be Upbeat (Like the Economy) [NYT]

Doped Race Horses, Ozwald Boateng & Gluten-Free Vodka: Last Night Finance Guys Showed Me The World [Jezebel]

He sent this email to his "subscribers" late last month, teaching them—I'm just deducing this, from the content—the secret to getting away with date rape in foreign countries. Absorb the wisdom, as Paul arrives in heterosexual Pair-ee and meets his first conquest:

I was scheduled to meet a Moroccan girl at 9:30,
so we had dinner and they said good-bye...(they
live on the outskirts of town, the French
equivalent of suburbs.)

F. was late, but she called my sister to say so
and they drove by while I was waiting outside the
building. (the next day I got a mobile, my
first on this trip, because I'll be in
France/Corsica for a few weeks.)

F. arrived after 10, and she was adorable! Very
cute, with big brown eyes and a beautiful smile.
She came up so I could drop off some stuff, and I
pounced on her but she didn't like it. She wanted
me to slow down, which I did. We left and went
for a drink down the street. She's only 23, but
precocious and very worldly. I was impressed by
the conversation and her general attitude. After
a drink, we started making out, but she had to go
home because she was leaving for a day-trip to
Lyon the next morning, and I was tired. And my
leg had fallen asleep at the table, distracting me.

We kissed and I walked her to the train.

The next day I ran errands, and got a phone,
among other things. I had a possible meeting with
F. that night, but she was tired,

Surprising! Then, of course, Paul randomly meets another heartbroken girl at a cafe, and sleeps with her, and then gets up the next day, and his Moroccan girl is back, and he fucks her under the Eiffel Tower.
Say what you want about Paul Janka's methods, at least you know he tells the truth.
[Thanks, S!]

The NYT "Skin Deep" story on pheromones and how guys are suckered into paying for them quotes only one person who is not a scientist or a pheromone-seller: Michelle Hotaling, a 24 year-old who took part in an experiment where she was blindfolded and decided how attractive a fella was based solely on his smell. She chose a pheromone-wearer!

"In appearance and personality he was not someone I would otherwise be convinced to go out with," she said, once her blindfold came off. "But his scent was a factor that would push my decision to say, ‘Yes.' "

"I always thought my first mention in the Times would be more scandalous!" Michelle blogs. "Then again, I am photographed with a blindfold and a man in a robe." [Just so her NYT debut doesn't go to waste: Michelle is a self-published author and aspiring singer and big fan of Bette Midler and Stevie Nicks, read all about her here!]

Meanwhile all the scientists are like "Yea, who knows if this shit works really?" So guys, if you expect your Dial for Men Magnetic Attraction Enhancing Body Wash to get you a date, you might want to focus on Michelle.
[NYT]

Praise be to the lord and all that is holy, Couric turned Jackson down, probably because he was a pedophile and also because he had "weird tape on his nose."

If the thought of Couric and Michael Jackson enjoying a romantic evening together isn't nauseating enough for you, you need turn only to this clip of Larry King on Jimmy Kimmel's show from two weeks ago, wherein King recounts his 1981 date with a young Couric in Washington, D.C., and actually utters the following words: "Once, I did Katie Couric."

Again with all appropriate praise to the TV gods, King misspoke: He did not "do" Couric, who is 24 years younger than King, because "I thought we were going to go up to the apartment, Katie and I, but she said she had a roommate." Naturally, Kimmel asked why King didn't go for the threesome. Sweet dreams tonight, kids!

Meet Mark. He's looking for his Goddess. Could it be you? Maybe, if you meet these qualifications, among many others?

• Mark's "on the brink of a large-scale financial success that many people believe will escalate me, over the next decade, from member of the middle class-to billionaire." Can you handle that?
• Mark has a GLOBAL VISION: "The Political Manifestation of World Peace and World Joy - A Grand "Symphony" to Be Performed by the Light Workers of Planet Earth." Among its tenets:

  * Transformation of Computers and the Computer Industry into the LIGHT.
  * Transformation of Science into the LIGHT.
  * Transformation of Health Care into the LIGHT.
  * Transformation of Business Management into the LIGHT.
  * Destiny Support.

  There's lots of other ones involving the LIGHT, too!

• The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.Mark needs a Goddess to travel this path with him. What does that mean? "Goddess' means a woman who is blossoming in many qualities of spiritual enlightenment AND is intensely sexual." Mark's artistic rendering of a goddess is at right.
• "She engages in one or a combination of the following spiritual practices for a minimum of 15 minutes per day(mdash;meditating, chanting "Hare Krishna," etc.)...I would prefer someone who spends more like 1 or 2 hours per day on such practices (as I have been doing for 35 years), and I think 15 minutes is pretty minimal for a Goddess.
• "She is NOT a Scientologist."
• Body requirements include:

  She is extremely attractive. She's HOT. She turns heads wherever she goes.
  She is sexy. VERY sexy.
  Her hair is her own and at least to her shoulders. Alternatively, she is willing to grow her hair long for me and keep it long for me.
  Her voice is not low or raspy. (Alto is fine; baritone is not.)

• "She is deeply disturbed that each day approximately 16,000 children die from hunger-related causes."
• "She believes in the light-filled MAGIC of sacred sex. She wants to utilize this magic to manifest our Global Vision. She realizes that her sacred sexual union with me is crucial for manifesting the Global Vision."
• "If she has been a prostitute, that is GOOD!! We can discuss it at length. I have written a book (not yet published) entitled, Resurrecting the Innocence in Prostitutes. Fascinating topic! And it's an important part of my Global Vision."
• What more is there to tell? Mark himself is a divorced high school teacher in LA and musical theater aficionado and, as he mentioned, Global Visionary. Write to Mark@Findingmygoddess.com to apply now.

$30/hour: Personal Introduction Assistant / "wingwoman" (Midtown)
Reply to:job-9qnwa-1179876392@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]
Date: 2009-05-20, 6:42AM EDT

We have an opening for a part-time personal introduction assistant, aka a "wingwoman."

You must be classy and dress well.

Beyond that you must be able to do 4 things: 1) start conversations with beautiful women; 2) after that, remain totally silent, unless spoken directly to, but smile and look friendly while the man you are "winging" orchestrates the social situation; 3) socialize and block any man or woman attempting to interfere with the man you are winging and any woman he is chatting with; and 4) end any conversation you are having instantly at the direction of the man you are winging. These requirements are essential, not for everyone, and difficult to do well.

Now, this is a job (that's why you get paid), but it's very fun, and you may even make new friends, or even meet someone special, if it doesn't interfere with your primary employment purpose.

This job is not for you if you are uptight, frumpy, grumpy, shy, a man-hater, a debbie downer, a critic, a control freak, a pouter, a therapist, researching, writing an article, with the press, a prostitute, an escort, a relationship counselor, or a feminist with a bone to pick. Gack.

You must be 18, usually 21 for the events we attend. All work is in public at cocktail parties, charity benefits, museum openings, and the like. You will be added to any list in advance, and any fees for the event will be paid. You are responsible for transportion. Subways are $2. Although many events have free food and drink, this isn't dating, so don't ask to be bought anything. If you do ask, by mistake, don't be grumpy and bring the mood down when the answer is a polite no, or you will be paid for the time you have spent and politely sent packing.

This job is definitely for you if you are easygoing, classy, dress extremely well, and enjoy many, varied, and sometimes challenging social situations.

Our roster of full-time wingwomen is full, but we do have a part-time opening. Yes we are serious. Yes we are real. You might even have the time of your life.

Fan mail, hate mail, and non-responsive replies will not receive answers, so save us both the time and don't bother.

Please respond with a photo and contact information to the craigslist email in this ad. Thank you for your time.

Gack.
[Craigslist. Pic via]

An eagle-eyed internet dating tipster forwarded us these screenshots which are incontrovertible proof that Kari Ferrell's twin sister is operating (as a grifter???) in Detroit, as we speak! "The First Things People Usually Notice About Me: My chest piece and my sweet sense of fashion."

The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.She also had these familiar pics on her profile, in case you thought this was all an amazing coincidence. Somebody please date her and ask her how her unfortunate resemblance to a criminal has impacted her life.
The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.
The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.

Stephen Dent willingly spent $200,000 on women he met on SeekingArrangement.com, but they went ahead and extorted him anyhow. How could they?

In March 2008, Queens resident Roy Sipel, 22, pleaded guilty to larceny and was sentenced to 16 months in prison for extorting $40,000 from Dent after learning he had had sex with Sipel's girlfriend, the newspaper reported.

Dent nevertheless visited SeekingArrangement.com again, and again was blackmailed, this time by an Ohio couple, Dawn and Christopher Jessop, records state.

And then he got extorted again, for $9,000. You just can't trust gold diggers three times these days.
[NYP]

We'd like to thank you, the Gawker commenters, for flooding the St. Louis Post-Dispatch's blog with, hopefully, searingly insulting comments: "Greenbaum said that comments were pretty bigoted until the website Gawker.com picked up the story and readers from that website signed on to his blog to rebut the bigots." Unfortunately you did your job so well that this meta-story has now been written about again, this time on a Chicago Tribune blog, causing an outpouring of people ready to tell you how they are probably much less racist than you will ever be:

1. My family is much better than yours, racists.

How wide is your world? Some of us have dozens of friends in inter-racial marriages and relationships. That is not an exaggeration. Our family literally knows dozens of people who are every combination of White/Black/Asian/Hispanic/Middle Eastern in happy marriages with gorgeous kids.

If you live or worship in a community that teaches that we are all brothers and sisters and members of one human race, this is considered healthy and normal.

But, for those who believe that there is no more racism, or that America has grown out of racism, well, here you are, what more proof do you need.

And one last thing:
Cute Couple!
Posted by: nonpartisan | Apr 20, 2009 11:58:20 AM

2. Down with racism, up with censorship!

Who cares about the race of two people kissing? I think the entire preoccupation with race—the race and race-baiting industry—should be put to rest for good. A truly non-racial, non-racist society just wouldn't pay attention to these things at all. I think this entire column should dissappear. No offense regarding the author's talent as a writer. Blacks and whites can mix or stay segregated if they want. If skin color is a superficial indicator, as society has mostly come to accept, why are we paying any attention to it at all? Let consenting people do what they want as long as they are doing no harm to themselves or to others.
Posted by: ttj | Apr 20, 2009 12:59:28 PM

3. Interracial dating is fine with me. Gays, on the other hand...

Black and white don't bother me. Lasst night on "Brothers and Sisters" two gaay men kissed-more than a passing kiss. I'm not a homopobe but was uneasy watching that.
Posted by: Joanne Coquillard | Apr 20, 2009 7:58:10 AM

4. I'm so not racist that I have circled around to become racist, or maybe just a nut.

I'm white, my husband is black. We've been together for about 20 years. We have always been very careful how we interact in public. Not just because of our races, we also don't think it's appropriate to get too physical in public. The other reason is because of some of the looks and comments we're intended to overhear. Although I would like to answer back, it's not worth the risk. I do believe everyone is entitled to their opinions, I just wish they would keep them to themselves.
Posted by: Wendy C | Apr 20, 2009 9:03:45 AM

5. Black girl kiss at age 14 FTW!!!!

Traveling with my students on a bus last February (2008) we were watching the movie HUTCH with Will Smith and gorgeous Eva Morales (I think that's her name). When a kiss between them seemed likely, I told the other teachers that if they kissed, Obama would win the election.

As a white, the first gal I kissed at 14 was black with braces.
Posted by: KAG | Apr 20, 2009 9:07:10 AM

[Chicago Trib; Previously, Missouri Rednecks. Pic via]

May we indulge in a little amateur psychology? Sure, nobody can stop us, okay. There are three reasons people have instantly become such voracious consumers of Kari Ferrell news (besides "the hard work of talented journalists etc."):

1. She is so much like you or your friends or someone you know. All us young urban cools relate, right? Yes! Just like your neighbor!
2. But yo she was seriously totally psycho. Come on, the frauds and ripoffs or the fake cancer or the fake pregnancies or the other assorted lies would pass for normal one at a time. But all in one place—she was the holy grail of the outwardly cool, inwardly crazy and dangerous person you met at a bar one night.
3. She had the misfortune to perpetrate her fraud in the midst of the most self-absorbed, writing-intensive demographic, and zip code, in all of America. Sucks for her.

Now, new stuff from her! Such as: this response that she sent to a random guy's personal ad on Craigslist just two weeks ago (he was looking for a tall redhead):

Hello,

I haphazardly stumbled upon your ad on Craigslist, and decided to charm you—with my undeniable wit and good looks (see: roofies)—into disregarding the fact that I am not red-headed or tall. Now, I realize what troubles that could conjure up, so I have compiled a list as to why you should overlook my lack of UK genes.

1.) I can solve complex math equations, harpoon a whale, reference obscure movies/books/songs/bible passages/pornos/wrestlers/
Christmas specials, and shoot a potato gun all while simultaneously singing the theme songs from nationally syndicated television programs of the late 70's and early 80's. If that doesn't convince you to take me, I don't know what will, but just in case I'll continue...

2.) I commonly say things like, "I want to give you a hand job with my mouth."

3.) I graduated with my degree in Music Theory, Composition, and Production—and minored in Physics. I don't know what I'm trying to tell you, besides that I like useless degrees. Impressed?

4.) I appreciate all genres of music. I know everyone says that, and sure, maybe some of them even mean it—but I DOUBLE MEAN IT (???). Examples: Bonnie 'P' Billy, Mono, Owen, The Books, Curtis Mayfield, The Gap Band, The Zombies, Glenn Miller Band, Russian Circles, Kashiwa Daisuke, The Magnetic Fields, Sunn O))), Botch, Benny Goodman, Murs, Boris, The Hood Internet, Phosphorescent, Muddy Waters, Akron/Family, Refused, Schubert, and on and on and on.

5.) I moved here about eight months ago, and though I have several friends and blah blah blah, I haven't met anyone that spurs any sort of excitement in me/can give me the deep-dickin' I deserve.

6.) I have an "I Heart Beards" tattoo that I would allow you to draw an eye patch on; subsequently becoming an "I Heart Pirates" tattoo.

7.) I have boobs.

Okay, there you have it. The rest is up to you, my friend.

Love,
Kari

She probably doesn't like Kashiwa Daisuke at all, the liar! And now, let's bring it all home with a note from Stephen Colbert's black friend, Jordan Carlos! Really:

I've met Kari Ferrell! She came to a show of mine once at the Slipper Room. We hung out after and she told me she was from Utah. Funny, I guess she wasn't running game that night because all the comedians just kind of hung out with her and a couple of other people. Hmmm... Who knows? Even grifters take a night off I guess. She did say that she was adopted and that her adopted parents were related to comedian Will Ferrell though and that they'd met at a family reunion. In lieu of things I'm kinda not buying it.

There you have it. May the circle be unbroken.
[Pic Flickr. Oh and ha yes. Oh and the fake Twitter and the other fake Twitter.]

Ron Burkle: Our tipster reports: "Ronny Burkle was lurking around the William Rast show last night with his pal Danny A. (Model wrangler extraordinaire who is BFF with Leo DiCaprio. Danny A. is the guy who is mostly responsible for filling Burkle's jet with attractive females.) A cloud of around 15 teenage girls swarmed Justin Timberlake (Rast is his label) as he left the show; I can't imagine Burkle was far behind." Yea, if he looked more dashing he might be able to get away with it. But that ratlike visage just sinks him. Give it up, Burkle.


Bill Clinton: You need to stop hanging out with Ron Burkle first of all, Bill! Even a serious Bill fan who considered the whole blowjob-in-the-Oval-Office thing to be really punk rock has got to admit that the time has come for Bill to retire from skirt chasing. (Not that there's any proof he still is!). Now you can enjoy sleeping with the Secretary of State, Bill. Can we call you Bill?


Steve Bing: Real estate heir, big time developer, Hollywood money man, Burkle and Clinton pal. He's 43 and he fathered a baby with Elizabeth Hurley out of wedlock. And he had another paternity battle with his other ex, who was Kirk Kerkorian's gal! All we're saying here is find a nice lady and settle down for fuck's sake. This Burkle-led triumvirate has spent more than enough time being the old dudes up in the club.


Mario Batali: The portly ginger-haired restaurateur enjoys whizzing around on his moped, wearing Crocs, manipulating salamis, traveling about Spain with Gwyneth Paltrow, and doing who knows what to young lasses in the back rooms of restaurants across Manhattan. We like your Olive Oil Ice Cream dude, but you're almost 50, and we just don't want to think about Mario Batali's sexuality. That's all there is to it really.


Ron Perelman: The bald-headed corporate raider is thrice-divorced, richer than god, and prone to playing the field, as many billionaires are. We don't like your looks, your gruff personality, or your shady PR firm, Perelman. When you next get married, consider very carefully whether you would like to stay married to said lucky woman.


But we do like:

Salman Rushdie: Yes, he could be accused of being a creepy old man, what with his hobbit physique and penchant for dating women absurdly out of his league (you would think, at least). But give the man his props. He writes some bitchin' books. Stares down death threats. Then goes out with Padma and, currently, with Pia Glenn, who we saw in Will Ferrell's Broadway show and, we must say, does one mean dance. So Salman Rushdie can't be put down. He's smarter than all the guys above and cavorts with badder women.

Jessica Wakeman's New York Press feature on Charm School is, for the most part, more polite than all that. She likes the guys trying to learn how to meet women in bars. They're kind of adorable. Including the one with Asperger's syndrome. And the one who looks like the King of Queens and awkwardly twirls her on a subway platform. The one with three minimum wage jobs. Even the one who implies he'd like Wakeman's tongue piercing all over his... fantasies.

They're nice guys; most have a natural, friendly charisma, and they're not afraid to make an ernest effort and self-improvement. Wakeman can relate: "I spent three and a half hours with men who were awkward, who said strange things and tried way too hard, but I'd had a great time with them."

And yet... they're spending $3,500 per weeklong class, and they still have nothing on natural charmers like "Nick," a "very attractive," "smooth-talking New Yorker who could take home any girl he likes."

When a sweet but schlubby guy like Brian is up against an old pro on the pickup scene like Nick, it's apparent how charming he already is.

SNAP.

Here's the thing, though: a guy like Nick has to start somewhere. This particular Nick worked with Wakeman at magazine a few years ago (so either New York or Radar). And he went on to write an undercover article about pick-up artist classes. If this guy is anything like writer Neel Shah, and we're guessing he's exactly like Neel Shah, he wasn't always so smooth:

At one point, Big Business invited me to open a set with him using the mustache routine.., "It'll be easy!" he promised. Sure, for him. I barely lasted five minutes before feebly excusing myself to go get a drink; he had his girl in stitches.

Have some faith, Wakeman. The "Nicks" of the world are made, not born. (Though not at $3,500 per week. That's ridiculous.)

(Photo by jakeliefer on Flickr)

Adams used to be a randomly oversharey blogger, sometimes a train wreck but generally adorable. He dated Moore, then did something dumb and wasn't dating Moore.

Then he totally promised to change in order to get the singer/actress back and/or keep her back:

So probably Doree's Observer article this week was correct: The best way to improve a boyfriend is to break up with him.

To check in on whether getting back together with said boyfriend is a good idea, check in with Adams in, oh, ten years or so. (You'll probably be able to do so via his oversharey blog.)

Wasserstein divorced his wife last summer and took up with "a young Asian beauty," presumably the same "younger Asian woman" that he secretly married two weeks ago.

Is this the start of a flagging dedication to the media? Arthur Carter, the longtime publisher of the New York Observer, fell prey to an outside hobby: he took up sculpture, got written up in the New Yorker for it, and a few years later let Jared Kushner buy the paper. He'd burned out.

So which is more fun for a billionaire like Wasserstein: dealing with angry staffers and shrinking budgets at New York, or cavorting with your new young bride on some private island? When the passion for the media game starts slipping, so does the focus, and before you know it, the big man gets tired of the whole mess. This economy could do that to anyone. Particularly a rich 61 year-old with a beautiful new wife and a magazine that can cause headaches. (And a natural glow). Just saying.

These women, some of the worst specimens on the face of the planet, get together for brunch or drinks, where they give quotes like these to the New York Times:

Dawn Spinner Davis, 26, a beauty writer, said the downward-trending graphs began to make sense when the man she married on Nov. 1, a 28-year-old private wealth manager, stopped playing golf, once his passion. “One of his best friends told me that my job is now to keep him calm and keep him from dying at the age of 35,” Ms. Davis said. “It’s not what I signed up for.”

Then there's the ghastly and hilarious website, full of tales like this, about a boyfriend who lost his banking job:

Overnight, he went from unavailable to downright clingy. He wants to have dinner every night. By dinner I mean staying in and cooking as Megu is no longer in the budget. AND, FYI DABA girls – chopping vegetables along side your man in a hot New York sized kitchen is NOTHING like the sexy kitchen scene between Mickey Rourke and Kim Basinger in Nine and a Half Weeks... I’m bored and can’t stop thinking about my perpetually unattainable Euro ex-boyfriend who is recession proof courtesy of an offshore trust account.

At least the loathsome lamenters get told off sometimes. Here's a mistress chatting with her john/lover:

Me *pouting*: You haven’t taken me on a trip since we went to Bermuda in September. What’s going on?
Charles: Honey, finances are tight right now so my wife has taken it upon herself to check up on all of our accounts. She will notice any big expenditures.
Me *cute voice*: Wellllllllllllll, what are you going to do to make it up to me?
Charles: Can we talk later sweetheart? I’m really busy right now.
Me: No. Give me an answer NOW. Don’t you realize what you have? I’m way too hot to be treated like this. (Disclaimer: Yes, I come across as bratty here, but it typically works when trying to get something out of him)
Charles *yelling for the first time in our almost two-year relationship*: I’VE GOT TO FIRE TWENTY PEOPLE BY THE END OF THE WEEK. Z has four kids, X just had a baby girl, Y just sent his son to college and I’ve got to get rid of two of those guys… and you’re complaining about vacations and dinner? God, you are so 24! GROW UP!

You have to hand it to the banker girls who started the Dating A Banker Anonymous blog, though: Their instincts for financial exploitation are keen and enduring. Ostensibly the hub of a support network, the site will be of wider interest as a vehicle for schadenfreude. If there's anyone who deserves to suffer under this imploding caste of spoiled harpies, after all, it's their boyfriends and ex-lovers, the bankers who spent their economic plunder as carelessly as they hoarded it.