"In the meantime, I hoped on the computer and googled Preston. Oh you best believe I checked him out. I mean what person wouldn't? Normally I would not have done it, but I wanted to know more about this talented basketball player. I had to find out his stats - height (Preston is a tall dude. I am tall, standing at 6'2, but I felt short next to his long lean muscular body). I checked his weight, rebounds, average points per game, how long he's been playing, and other vital information.

I was impressed. Preston was on top of his game. The press liked him and he was hometown favorite. In high school and college he was an all-around favorite, traveling across the country showcasing his talented ball-handling skills. The more I discovered, the more I liked. So, I was looking forward to spending more time with this amazing basketball player."

Later, they hook up again. Then "Preston" gets an urgent phone call. What happens next?

Check back tomorrow when Preston introduces Terrance to some important people.

Okay!

[1224 Confessions]

Clinton Supporter Pressures Pelosi Over White House Battle [CNN via TPM]

1. The Progress Poster: By the artist who brought you "OBEY" comes "PROGRESS."
Part of: The eternal meme that is Obey Giant, a graffiti joke turned art that started with stickers of Andre the Giant appearing in Charleston in 1986.
Stance: Pro.
See Also: The Pope version. And the Mavis Beacon version.

2. Barack Obama is Your New Bicycle: A series of one-liners about how much Obama likes you, the reader.
Part of: The "single serving site" meme.
Stance: Whimsically Pro.
See Also: Hillary Is Mom Jeans

3. Barack, Bert and Ernie: Ernie convinces Bert to vote for Obama.
Part of: Sesame Street fanfic.
Stance: Pro.
See Also: The Count explains race relations (a promising title poorly executed).

4. Barack OBollywood: A floating Barack head dances to Punjabi music.
Part of: Internet's obsession with modern Indian culture, stretching back to the classic music video "Tunak Tunak."
Stance: WTF
See Also: Some ad implying that Obama smokes dope a lot.

5. The Empire Strikes Barack: Obama as the hero of Star Wars.
Part of: The most lucrative franchise to ever spawn a million memes, jokes and mashups.
Stance: Pro.
See Also: Baracky: Obama as Rocky.

6. Obamacrombie: T-shirts mocking the guys dressed in Abercrombie and Fitch sitting behind Obama in a televised speech.
Part of: Every joke is worth putting on your chest.
Stance: Meh.
See Also: "Who killed Obama?" sweatshirt.

7. White People Like Obama: A chapter, maybe, of an upcoming blog book.
Part of: The book version of "Stuff White People Like."
Stance: Heh.
See Also: "Barack Obama Is Your New Bicycle" also got a book deal.

8. Vote Different: Hillary as Big Brother.
Part of: Everything indie is like Apple.
Stance: Pro.
See Also: Hillary's a PC, Obama's a Mac — really.

9. Obama Girl: Oh, you know. Some girl went nuts for Obama and made the new "Dick in a Box."
Stance: Pro and sexy enough for YouTube.
Part of: Barely Political, a web show about being pro-Obama and sexy enough for YouTube.
See Also: McCain Girls: Raining McCain.

10. Under Barack Obama: A MADtv parody of "Umbrella."
Part of: A year of "Umbrella" parodies.
Stance: Pro-interracial-banging.
Actually Don't See Also: Obama and Hillary caught kissing.

11. Yes We Can: will.i.am's spoken-word song based on an Obama speech.
Part of: Songs for Obama; will.i.am's followup was "We Are The Ones."
Stance: Pro and embarrassingly earnest.
Part of: Celebrities love Obama.
See Also: John McCain: john.he.is

12. Muppets for President: What do you expect?
Part of: The Muppets, second only to Star Wars in mashup eminence.
Stance: Silly
See Also: Nothing else. Ever. Except maybe Dramatic Chipmunk and Pretty much everywhere, it's gonna be hot.

31-year-old Sorkin, part of a new generation of Times reporters, has been permitted opinion before. "Mr. Murdoch may be the perfect publisher of The Wall Street Journal." Let's take another example: Alessandra Stanley's front page indictment of Reverend Jeremiah Wright, Barack Obama's troublesome pastor. Stanley’s review called Wright “the compelling but slightly wacky uncle who unsettles strangers but really just craves attention... [Wright] doesn’t hate America, he loves the sound of his own voice."

Sorkin's slam on Ballmer is a sign of a livelier Gray Lady. The challenge from web news sites, the threat of layoffs—and now competition from Rupert Murdoch's Wall Street Journal—have lifted the metabolism of the newspaper in a way that the exhortations of earlier executive editors never could. An intelligent or provocative slant is one way that a newspaper can differentiate its story from the thousand other rehashes of the same information. British hyper-competitive newspapers have made an art of such spin; as America's media becomes more competitive, outlets are following Fleet Street's example.

It's not only the news pages that are livelier. The Times' City Room blog led the pack in covering the sudden death of movie star Heath Ledger: they were quick with the breaking news, information from the scene and background on the Dark Knight actor's bouts of depression. During the Eliot Spitzer scandal, the paper's website broke the first pictures of the governor's call-girl, Ashley Alexandra Dupré. And the newspaper's opinion writers like Frank Rich have led a devastating intellectual charge against George Bush and the Republican administration.

So what's the problem? All this messy modernity compromises the Times' prissy self-image. The newspaper's proprietors and editors are obviously moderate liberals, and the conservative columnists are either watered-down or compromised, as token as the useless liberals allowed to whine on Fox News—but the Times can't acknowledge that it's partisan. On the web, the Times has opted for speed and sensation, passing on a false detail that Ledger's apartment was owned by Mary-Kate Olsen—but the newspaper still maintains it applies the same standards of accuracy as in print. (It's still scarred by the fabrications of Jayson Blair, five years ago.)

Most painful of all to behold is the editors' contorted defense of an outmoded notion of objectivity. Here's the summary, it's fine for opinion to be expressed on the opinion pages, and in columns on the news pages, but only so long as those columns are written by designated columnists and not by multitasking reporters, who are only allowed to express "points of view" and not opinions, as if there were any way to distinguish between the two.

The mandate of columnists in the news pages “is fundamentally analytical,” executive editor Bill Keller told the paper's public editor. “They may have a point of view on an issue, but they are not partisan or ideological. They don’t endorse candidates. They don’t prescribe outcomes. ... They are free to express opinions of a certain type that grow out of a particular expertise and a body of reporting.” His deputy, Jill Abramson, was equally opaque when defending Alessandra Stanley's put-down of the attention-craving Reverend Wright. On May 4, in another column by the public editor, Abramson was quoted saying, “She had a lot of interesting things to say that didn’t go over the news-opinion divide." (So how interesting would one have to be to go over that line?)

You know what? Screw the news-opinion divide. When the Times was still pure, reporters would simply trot out some tame expert to give the story the slant they planned; it's less convoluted—and wordy—for writers like Sorkin and Stanley simply to express their own views. Readers can get raw information from wire services and press releases; the only value the Times can add is time-saving summarization—and attitude.

The Times is the closet-case of newspapers. Everybody knows that the political bent is liberal; that the newspaper's reporters have opinions; and that they're hungry for a juicy story, even if the rush to publish can introduce mistakes. None of these are crimes; they only become embarrassments because of the paper's official position. Bill Keller needs simply to come to terms with the nature of modern newspapers. He and his colleagues will feel so much lighter if they do.

Of course she got her lawyer involved ("I don't know what her motivation was. Maybe it was rare to find a blond mink that matched her hair," he said graciously), and the coat was returned under mysterious circumstances. Was Lohan caught red handed (read: covered in animal blood)? She was wearing a different black coat earlier that fateful night. Intrigue! Lohan has not admitted to thievery, and Markova is seeking punitive damages in "the six figure range," because I guess the emotional anguish of losing one's fur coat for a few days is just as taxing as sexual harassment or wrongful termination or something. Markova's lawyer says: "If my client had gotten an apology (and the coat) a day later, she would have rolled her eyes and said, 'Party girl.' But it wasn't that way." Sigh. Didn't we almost have it all. The 1Oak nightclub, for what it's worth, says "Clearly, this girl is looking for publicity. She misplaced her coat. 1Oak returned it. End of story." Are they telling the truth? Are they just being loyal to the famous actress? A thickened, mysterious plot.
Picture via INF

"It is a sad day when an icon like Barbara Walters, in the sunset of her life, is reduced to publicly branding herself as an adulterer, humiliating an innocent family with accounts of her illicit affair and speaking negatively against me all for the sake of selling a book. It speaks to her true character."

Dean is at a club, on an island vacation spot, when he meets him:

He was across the room standing against the wall with a drink in his hand. He was bobbing his head to the Hip-Hop beats and surrounded by slew of bodacious women and physically fit men.

I couldn't take my eyes off him. He was absolutely gorgeous - Tall, caramel, chinky eyes, and a body that wouldn't stop. Damn, he was fine! I felt the temperature in my body rise. Lust was speaking and its low growl was whispering in my ears.

Then he looked over in my direction and smiled.

They have a short, coy meeting at the bar. Who was that man?

I asked my boy Clever if he knew the beautiful specimen of a man. Clever acknowledged that he did. "That's 'Preston' I haven't seen him in a while. He's always on the road. He plays for ________."

Now, I am really excited. This professional athlete just approached me and how he did it was so smooth. No one noticed anything.

The next night, Dean is in his hotel room:

Anyway, I opened the door and there he was. Tall, broad, strong, sexy, and smiling at me. Preston strolled into my suite as if it was his own. I was in shock. My mouth dropped open, and so did every molecule and cell in my body.

I quickly closed the door. Preston didn't say a word. Nothing. His muscular body glided into the bedroom. I followed. He unbuttoned his shirt and revealed an amazing physique. I followed suit, and, like that, me and Preston went at each other like two lovers in heat. We wanted each other badly. We explored each other's bodies as we peeled off our clothes and strewn them throughout the room.

My gosh, Preston was ferocious in bed. His soft lips met mine. We kissed tenderly, and then passionately. Our tongues danced in each other's mouths. We groped each other finding different and wonderful places to touch. His long hard muscle was massive. He felt wonderful in my hands.

We have no guesses!

[1224 Confessions]

Then, as soon as the cameras went on, BOOM — onto the forehead. THE END IS NEAR.

The New York Times reported the 58-year-old Olson had been "distracted and unavailable" since falling ill in November. But the newspaper didn't explain quite why he couldn't be reached. Candice Olson—known as Candice Carpenter when she ran the iVillage website for women—commandeered all his communication devices, according to a friend. After she left the internet business, Candice Olson decided that she wanted to do something else with the rest of her life. ''I personally came to the conclusion that being a C.E.O. is hell,'' she said in an interview. By some combination of poor results at Random House, pneumonia and a domineering wife, Olson has had the same decision made for him.

The Olsons have five children, two adopted from Eastern Europe; and Candice was still attempting another natural pregnancy at the age of 50. This is the couple's first-encounter story. When Candice met the Random House chief executive in 2001 at a party—only three months before marrying—he heard her explain what she was doing after retiring from business. Mrs. Olson recounted to the New York Times: "I said I was trying to be the best mommy on Park Avenue. That's what captured Peter's attention.'' So the clichéd explanation for so many corporate exits—the desire to spend more time with one's family—may actually hold true in this instance.

But that's quite enough generosity for the departing executive, who acknowledged himself that he was a "pariah" in the literary reaches of the publishing industry. His critics remembered smirking relish with which he fired Ann Godoff and other editors who viewed publishing as an art rather than a business. Wandering around a book fair at the time, he told an interviewer: ''I recognize hundreds of people here. Many of them worked for me. Many of them I fired personally.'' He did not seem upset by this; in fact, he seemed amused, observed the Times' Lynn Hirschberg ''I fired him,'' Olson said as two men passed by. ''There are so many people here that I've fired that we could have a reunion.''

On last night's Gossip Girl, they were able to toss off references to Tinsley Mortimer, the Waverly Inn, and Page Six (among lots of others) with the ease of an up-on-the-gossip local. It just feels a bit more organic. Couple these timely references with all the around-town sightings and paparazzi photos, and you blur the line between the reality and the fiction. Coverage of the show is everywhere and multi-faceted. It's like living the show in real-time! If blogs and whatnot are chattering away about where a show is filming, who saw who where, etc. then you've got instant, sort of "unearned" buzz. And, yeah, it's basically free. This may seem annoying to some, but it does get people curious and watching. This isn't to say that Ugly Betty has quite the same rabid cult following as teeny drip shows like Gossip Girl, or that the solid hit needs much help, but still the potential is there for some "oh look there they are!" excitement. Plus, on location just looks better. Oh Michael Urie, where aaare youuu?

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The Eric-is-gay plot line was just as silly and expected and satisfying as one could hope. And the Asher tie-in was surprising and funny and full of teeth. ("Get this faggot out of my house!") The Lily and Serena comfort the 'mo stuff was a bit maudlin, but understandably necessary. It's sort of a bummer that the Eric/Asher relationship is kinda over before it started, but I'm sure there will be other twinky idiots on the horizon for our diminutive little friend.

Leighton Meester was in fine form (she's the best actress of the kids, I think) as Blair maneuvered all the gay rumors via Gossip Girl (great to see her heavily featured again!) and crushed little squawking Jenny Humphrey. The nice little button of sadness put at the end of their battle was warm and smart, and leads me to think they may not actually be "done' as Jenny so wearily declared.

This is all, of course, just preamble to the wham bang holy holy shit final scene, in which a devastated, weepy Serena, having had yet another scary "I'm gonna tellll" run in with Georgina, broke down at Blair's house. What was the secret, Blair and everyone else wanted to know. It involved video, so I assumed it was porn. But...um... no. "I killed someone," Serena moaned. And then that music! That thumping, scary scary music. I must admit I got up and did a little "WTF???" dance and then made my roommate rewind and replay the last scene. It was shocking and brilliant and just what this show needed to really get the soapy fantastic stuff going. I can't wait to see where they take this. Hopefully it won't fizzle and die too soon... LIKE THE MAN SERENA KILLED. Shocking clip is below.

Crazy! And, I should mention. This Friday, at 8pm at the People's Improv Theatre, Sara Benincasa, comedienne (and Gawker commenter!) is hosting a panel discussion on this here show. I will be one of the panel members, joining some fantastic funny folk, so if you're around you should definitely come. It's going to be silly (and boozy) and there is free GG-themed food. Info is here.

1) If she teaches here... don't take this course. Period. She defines a terrible prof, she is offended when people ask questions about her lectures and does not grade/give feedback on papers. Grade based solely on if she likes you/ you writing reflects her "sophisticated" ideas.

2) WORST CLASS EVER horrible professor, doesn't know what the heck she is doing, can't lecture, can't grade, can't give her students feedback on their essays....

I you were interested in this class because it is about global warming( like i was)... think again, we spent maybe two classes on the subject and the prof. didn't even know how to properly explain the green house effect!!!

i think she is gonna get fired

3) interesting topic, boring prof The course material was not as interesting as its ORC description said, and Prof Venkatesan is a boring lecturer, the assigned reading is ridiculously long and dense, but the course is ok in terms of workload,

4) Do NOT take this course Aside from the fact that I learnt nothing of value in this class besides the repeated use of the word "postmodernism" in all contexts (whether appropriate or not) and the fact that Professor Venkatesan is the most confusing/nonsensical lecturer ever, the main problem with this class is the personal attacks launched in class. Almost every member of the class was personally attacked in some form in the class by either intimidation or ignoring your questions/comments/concerns. If you decide to take this class, prepare to NOT be allowed to express your own opinions in class because you have "yet to obtain your Ph.D/masters/bachelors degree". We were forced to write an in-class essay on "respect" (and how we lacked it) because we expressed our views on controversial topics and some did not agree with the views of "established scholars" who have their degrees.

Additionally, your essays will (at most) receive 2 lines worth of feedback, along with a miserable letter grade.

All in all, there are much better ways to understand science, technology, and society than to suffer through ten weeks of emotional battering.

5) HORRIBLE This was the worst class I have ever taken. The professor was rude and a horrible teacher...don't take this class.! hopefully she will get fired

6) insecurity, ego, and more Professor Venkatesan should not be a professor... here or anywhere.

Bigger version here. [via Coudal]

"The sender of the first junk e-mail message was Gary Thuerk and it was sent to advertise new additions to DEC's family of System-20 minicomputers. It invited the recipients, all of whom were on Arpanet and lived on the west coast of the US, to go to one of two presentations showing off the capabilities of the System-20.

"Reaction to the message was swift, with complaints reportedly coming from the US Defense Communications Agency, which oversaw Arpanet, and took Mr Thuerk's boss to task about it.

"Despite Mr Thuerk's pioneering spam it took many years for unsolicited commercial e-mail to become a nuisance. It took until 1993 before it won the name of spam - a name bestowed on it by Joel Furr - an administrator on the Usenet chat system. Mr Furr reputedly got his inspiration for the name from a Monty Python sketch set in a restaurant whose menu heavily featured the processed meat." [BBC via Slog]

Now we celebrate!

• Don't you get in that viper, Blonde Tomboy Space Girl! It makes you crazy!
• Dr. Jesusface: "How does that make you feel?" Oh great. Now he's a fracking psycholologist...
• "The gods don't exist! We have been pandering to our own ignorance for far too long!" Dayum, Doctor. Who knew you had it in ya?
• You will not undermine Blonde Tomboy Space Girl, Pretty Asian Cyclon! Earth is not a pipe dream! She has magic and you are jealous, stupid jealous Cyclon!
• Get away from that ship, Blonde Tomboy Space Girl! It's full of Cyclons!
• Don't talk to him!
• Don't let him into your quarters! He'll get into your head! Nooooes...
• "Anesthetizing yourself with ambrosia and petty affairs!" That's just how the Blonde Tomboy Space Girl rolls, ass.
• Chief Fatty Q. Workingstiff still doesn't know Secret Cyclon Lady killed his wife? And now she's blaming him?! Oh, Fatty, you really are a dumb fuck.
• Don't be planning mutiny, Pretty Asian Cyclon. Know why? Coz, busted!
• Ew. Ol' Doc Jesusface and Secret Cyclon Lady having smelly-looking nerd sex. Ew.
• Great. Now he's making a speech. Great, now Old Eyepatchy's making a speech. Does anyone in space ever STFU?
• The most boring woman ever is inspecting the hull. And now she's dead. Yay, death!
• Fatty is thinking! Fatty is pissed.
• Yes, Fatty, choke him! Choke Jesusface!! Choke him more!!!
• Ack! Mutiny! Space Girrrrrrrl! Noooooes...

"Jezebel’s readers—they often call themselves 'Jezzies' or 'Jezebelles'—are permitted to post to the site after a first prospective comment is approved by a Gawker Media staffer, and must adhere to some basic rules: be witty and relevant, no whining and don’t attack people." But you know how those crazy commenters are!

Still, such attacks—on one another, and on the editors—happen regularly. When Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton won the New Hampshire primary after getting teary-eyed at a campaign event, Ms. Tkacik fired off a furious rant, accusing women of voting with their emotions. One commenter, a 28-year-old Brooklyn medical biller who uses the screen name SinisterRouge, wrote back: "Seriously, Moe, I know you love Obama. But to say women just up and voted for her because she cries is retarded."

As part of a popular feature called Snap Judgment, readers offered biting comments on everything from Ms. Jolie’s eye-popping neckline to her possible state of mind.

Then a commenter with the screen name Calraigh wrote that, despite being pregnant, Ms. Jolie looked like “an Ethiopian famine victim.” Within minutes, a half-dozen angry readers had made their own snap judgments of Calraigh:

“You’re gross.”

“Are you serious?”

“That comment is inappropriate. I don’t know what website you think you are on, but that is not how we roll.” [NYT]

[DarkRoastedBlend via BoingBoing]

Fox & Friends anchor Steve Doocy used the made-up news peg of his son telling him about a new service from AT&T, a Fleishman client. "I started looking around for it and there was absolutely no publicity on it, no press," said Doocy. But in the course of his perfectly innocent investigation, he happened to discover that Fleishman was the PR agency behind it, which naturally led into a rehashing of some old criminal charges against the firm, and a chance to mock pictures of its CEO on air. Naturally! Let's just say we're going for both sides here. Your move, Fleishman. The very worthwhile video clip is below.

Commencing during the approximately twelve month period preceding January 24, 2007, corrupt New York City undercover police officers assigned to the Manhattan South Vice Enforcement Division began frequenting Scores West and abusing their authority: i) did not pay otherwise required admission fees; ii) consumed but did not pay for alcoholic beverages; and iii) consumed but did not pay for food.

I guess if you want to get technical about it, Julia Allison is employed by a magazine. But her main occupation is fameball. So when I saw her, in a white dress, dramatically posing for photos as if she was getting married, it made me question whether these magazine awards were supposed to be some sort of society event. Apparently so! The following people showed up to present awards, for no discernible reason whatsoever:

• Anderson Cooper. Who did not say anything gay.
• Former New Yorker editor and current Clinton family stalker Tina Brown. "She looks like Hillary," someone whispered loudly when she appeared.
• The aforementioned Padma Lakshmi. She said some stuff about her food show, too.
• Former baseball star turned investor turned magazine publisher Lenny Dykstra. Though he can't be 50 years old yet, he shuffled, mumbled, and spoke with his mouth an inch from the mike in a disquieting impression of Muhammad Ali in the throes of Parkinson's disease. Or maybe it wasn't an impression.
• Obama girl.
• New York City Police Commissioner Ray Kelly. Who, after the ceremony, was deep in conversation with New Yorker editor David Remnick. A conversation I imagine going like this:

  KELLY: Congratulations on the award.

  REMNICK: Thanks. Coincidentally, we're going to be doing an investigative piece on the NYPD soon.

  KELLY: You are under arrest.

• Judah Friedlander and two other people from 30 Rock. They also made awkward, jokey attempts to somehow tie their show to the magazine industry. Not their fault, though. My guess is they were just as mystified that they were there as anyone else.
• Charlie Rose

The "Nick Denton Could Make This A Metaphor" moment of the night: Portfolio editor Joanne Lipman, after receiving an award, tried to walk off stage the wrong way, and had to turn around and double back.

And here, the night in poor pictures. I'm having some trouble aligning them correctly, so I will put the captions here, and the pictures below. 1. The view from the ballroom, and also what this crowd of media honchos controls: the world. 2. Here, Anderson Cooper, live on stage! It's really him, I promise! 3. Police Commissioner Ray Kelly walks away from me in fear after I challenge him to a debate on media consolidation laws. 4. Fameball Julia Allison and New York Magazine writer Vanessa Grigoriadis, whose article about this site was nominated for an award last night. They're both very personable!

That's about it.

Palfrey, a former receptionist, cocktail waitress, and probable escort herself, began her escort service under the name "Pamela Martin & Associates" in 1993. By 2006 her girls charged $300-per-hour and allegedly counted as clients thousands of important Washington figures.

She was finally busted in 2006 (by the Post Office!), whereupon she began her second career as an inescapable media figure (in DC, at least). She made headlines by threatening to sell her client list to pay for her attorneys—attorneys she kept firing, until finally deciding to defend herself. The presiding judge eventually convinced her to take a court-appointed lawyer as the case went to court this February.

Meanwhile, Palfrey continued insisting she'd done nothing illegal. She was merely offering an "erotic fantasy service." The first high-profile johns Palfrey outed—Deputy Secretary of State Randall Tobias and some think-tank nut—admitted no wrong-doing. Tobias did eventually resign.

And finally she released what is probably the biggest name on her list—Senator David Vitter. Vitter, who's even been linked to other whores, did not resign.

She didn't sell the list. She did hand it over to ABC, but they apparently found nothing on it newsworthy enough to share.

As her trial for money laundering and racketeering drew closer, Palfrey found herself settling into a comfortable role as a media talking head—DC's own unrepentant Heidi Fleiss, happy to opine on the whoring of great men in case tomorrow's column was looking a little dry.

Faced with the convictions on all charges, though, and possible jail time, well—who the hell knows what was really going on. You never do.

Now we await the conspiracy theorists who'll swear she was killed by the government before she could reveal that Dick Cheney was a client, or something.

Chloe Parker went from tycoon tot to tycoon twat... She's got it all. Daddy, money, and one of those tiny little dogs that rich people keep in their vagina... Her penthouse in Algonquin's exclusive Little Barkings district is a palace in the sky complete with a motor drawbridge, torture dungeon, and servants with scurvy. This is real estate we can only watch on television and masturbate over. (After the jump, the clip, and two screenshots from Liberty City's self-mocking version of the web; and here's blow-by-blow coverage of Grand Theft Auto's new release from Kotaku.)