He made his name upchucking McNuggets out the driver's side of an automobile — now has documentarian Morgan Spurlock discovered the whereabouts of the mastermind behind the September 11 attacks? Probably not!
Today on the Comics Page, we're proud to present an excerpt from Ghost Stories, the second in Jeff Lemire's touching, profoundly human series of graphic novels Essex County, on sale now from Top Shelf Productions.
Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Daddyhunt Dilettante: 24, male, writer and graduate student, East Village, gay and unattached. DAY ONE 9 a.m.: I see my straight Israeli neighbor in the hallway. He's cranky and a tad rude, which makes me want him even more. 3:30 p.m.: My boss IMs me and wants me to come to her office. I have an erection, so I bring a legal pad with me. She immediately tells me she just wants to chat and I don't need a pad. Little does she know 6 p.m.: I meet a friend who's visiting the city for dinner. He's with a bunch of guys. What a disappointment: None of them are hot; one is beyond annoying. 10 p.m.: We go out for drinks after dinner. One of the guys' boyfriends meets us there. I flirt with him. 11:45 p.m.: I go home and masturbate to a shirtless Marlon Brando.
Hey, look, a novelty column in the Daily News, written as if the columnist were inside my head. Michael Goodwin’s the author. Don’t like the look on him. He’s probably 80 by now. These things always come with a photo of the author from 30 years ago. I’ve seen Mort Zuckerman in real life. Please.
I see what he’s going for there. “Reporters write vicious lies about me, then parrot them to the gullible public and ask what they think. The polls just say what the reporters want them to say.” Well, yeah. Except I wouldn’t have phrased it like this. I actually know things about polling methodology and rating bias and the 95 percent confidence level and the like. I went to Princeton and Harvard. This banner ad — can I make it stop moving?
Outside of Carolines last night, where he was hosting a benefit for scleroderma research, Bob Saget weighed in on the rumors that his former TV daughter, Ashley Olsen, has been dating Lance Armstrong, father of three. How does Saget feel about the huge age and respectability gap between the two? “I like Lance, Lance Armstrong is an amazing guy. Amazing guy!” he said. That’s it? We were hoping for something like, "I hate Lance Armstrong. I should be with Ashley." What gives, Saget? "I apologize," he said. He tried again: "You know Tevye and Golde, they were together 25 years! We’re in a society, I don’t think — you can’t really go by people, you know?" Wha? "I’m not giving you want you want," he said, defeated. "I feel bad about that."
That’s okay, Bob, how about you tell us a disgusting story about Ashley, Mary-Kate, and a donkey erection instead?
Name: Dave Annable Job: Playing injured Iraq vet Justin Walker on ABC's Brothers and Sisters. Age: 28 Borough: Annable grew up upstate, went to SUNY Plattsburgh, and earned his acting chops in the city with the Neighborhood Playhouse, living in Manhattan and Brooklyn.
Who's your favorite New Yorker, living or dead, real or fictional?
What's the best meal you've eaten in New York?
After studying at the "library," N.Y. pizza at 2 a.m.
In one sentence, what do you actually do all day in your job?
Play the Nintendo Wii.
Astoria: You can ask the chefs from Bistro 33, at 19-33 Ditmars Boulevard, to prepare a special tasting menu — but be sure to request the chocolate-espresso-stout ice cream served on a warm fudge brownie for dessert. [Joey in Astoria]
Chelsea: RUB has introduced the “open-face” and “sloppy” grease fest that is Frito pie to its menu and it’s best inhaled with a kindred Texas brew. [Gothamist]
East Village: David Chang is looking for one experienced cook to join his team for Momofuku Ko, "a very unique operation, with the possibility of no servers." [Eat for Victory/VV]
Greenwich Village: Anita Lo has released a recipe for Rickshaw Dumpling Bar’s kimchee-and-tofu dumplings. [Restaurant Girl]
Red Hook: This is the last Sunday of the season for the ball-fields vendors. [Eat for Victory/VV]
The Frozen-Yogurt Wars have intensified in Flushing. We spotted two new stores going up a mere 85 feet from each other on Roosevelt Avenue. Does Pinkberry have the advantage, being so close to the heavily trafficked Main Street stop on the 7 train? Or will the discriminating dessert aficionado bypass the throngs (by walking about 40 steps) to Red Mango? Too soon to tell, but we fear New York’s post-apocalyptic future where the only structures standing are bank branches and frozen-yogurt stores. Oh, and the Arepa Lady. Aileen GallagherEarlier:Our coverage of the frozen-yogurt invasion
About a year ago, everyone was atwitter about the opening of modern-day "speakeasy" the Blue Owl: "You'll spot it by an image of a blue owl hanging unobtrusively over a staircase," UrbanDaddy teased. Scratch that: On Saturday, the owners erected the ginormous sign you see above. If business doesn't perk up, they could always turn the place into a Hooters. Daniel Maurer
Though we agree that table-scoring strategy is important (we winced when we recently overheard a woman pleading with a French gatekeeper, "I speak French, does that matter?"), Zagat's recent tips of the trade aren't exactly that useful: As the authors admit, all you really have to do to score a table these days at La Esquina is call, and their advice on clinching the perennial prize of every Moscow Mule worshipper (Milk and Honey's secret number) doesn't quite ring true. Per Google, the new number is nowhere on the Internet (owner Sasha scolds sites that post it, and he disconnected the old one 212-625-3897 not long ago), so don't waste time on the recommended Web search. Next time the digits change, simply ask sister bar Little Branch for them. In the meantime, call two, one, two, eight, one, zero, seven, six, five, four. Daniel Maurer
When we saw the new Michelin ratings on the Web, before getting ahold of the actual book, we were left scratching our heads. (Read our complaints and suggestions here.) Now that we're reading the thing, we're becoming even more confused. This is supposed to be a guidebook? The descriptions are all breezy, self-contained little blurbs which seem more like something you would read in an airplane magazine's advertorial insert than in the American edition of the oldest and most powerful restaurant guide in the world.