Gawker: negging

Bad News For The Crazy Lady On The Stairstepper!

Joshua Stein — Thu, 20 Dec 2007 11:55:03 EST

"Hey, put that croissant down!"

"But it's flaky and warm!"

"But you're fat."

"But I deserve it! I got up at six and did MorningSpin for an hour at Equinox."

"You just think you worked out, sucker. Didn't you read that New York Times article that basically says that no matter what high three-figure calorie count number the Elliptical Trainer displays, you've burned like half of that, sometimes even less?"

"Uh, no. That's exactly why I don't read the New York Times."

Putting Very Little Weight In Calorie Counting Methods [NYT]

Penn Commuters Berated By Snotty Europeans

Choire — Wed, 18 Apr 2007 11:57:20 EDT

This morning outside Penn Station, some young fellows were distributing fake anti-promotional literature "protesting" the new high speed Europe rail system. (Paris to Frankfurt in under four hours!) First of all: Ooh, fake negative ad campaign. Second: Are commuters from Lynbrook and Bayshore really the target market for RailEurope promotions? (Paging Long Island's Atoosa Rubenstein!) But really we're not sure they can afford the exchange rate. And finally: Why is Europe fucking with us and our asstacular and sad—yet pridefully, pants-pockets-tearingly American!—trains? Fine, so Luxembourg to Paris is 231 miles and their new train takes 2 hours and 5 minutes; Manhattan to East Hampton is 103 miles and it takes nearly 3 hours on the LIRR. But unlike France, at least we have our international reputation to keep us warm at night. Oh and we get to drink Coors on our trains, so there. —choire

Europe Is Shrinking

Wingman Coach Causes Us To Lose Our Respect For The Cock

abalk2 — Mon, 26 Mar 2007 11:04:07 EDT

The phenomenon of the wingman—you know, the buddy who will distract the fat friend of the girl into whose pants you are attempting to effect entry—made its appearance in the local papers this weekend, with a piece about Art Malov, a 28-year-old dating coach who teaches sad, lonely men the secrets of conning women into your bed. There's a lot of poignance in the article; you will not be surprised to learn that one of Malov's advisees is a computer technician who is reduced to bragging about how many phone numbers he now gets. The deepest moment of pathos comes when the aforementioned computer guy points out a fellow who seems to embody the apex of skirt-chasing.

"See that guy with the striped shirt? He has it together—you can tell just looking at him." The guy, it turns out, is a 33-year-old hedge fund manager who dropped $3000 for a full course from Malov.

We cannot believe that we are still living in the age of "the stripey," but this whole article has made us immeasurably more sympathetic to the plight of our single female friends. If we were subjected to a constant barrage of overconfident schmucks in striped shirts whose friends "want to buy a wallaby" we'd probably bag it all and get a couple of cats ourselves. —balk

Wingmen in the Wings [NYT]