There Are No PartiesThere are no notable parties tonight. This is presumably because everybody except us is out of town someplace. We hope it starts raining on them.
There are, however, Agenda listings for tonight, selected by New York’s culture editors.
Times Square Is Safe
There were two foiled car-bomb attempts in London Friday, a car-cum-fireball was driven into the Glasgow airport Saturday, and the British government has described the attacks as Al Qaeda–connected and raised the country’s terror-alert level to its highest setting, which suggests an attack is believed to be imminent. Meantime, back in New York, part of JFK was evacuated after what turned out to be cologne was left unattended in a terminal, and an abandoned car with brooms inside caused cops to close Riverside Park for a few hours while the hazmat team was brought in. So we guess we find it reassuring that there were SWATish-looking cops — with machine guns! — in Rockefeller Center on the way to work this morning, plus, apparently, rows of other cops on cute little motorcycles in Times Square. We especially dig the little scootery things.
in other news
Happy Birthday, Linds!Because it should be noted: Today is Lindsay Lohan’s 21st birthday. Remember when you were in college, and you had your birthday, and you made a big deal of going to the local liquor store with your I.D., just because you could and therefore should, and yet you knew in the back of your mind that it was sort of ridiculous, because you’d been able to get drunk easily enough with other I.D.’s, or on booze your friends bought, before you’d turned 21? This milestone is sort like that. But way, way more.
Related: Happy 21st Birthday to a Rehabbing Lindsay Lohan [Defamer]
Who Needs the Kwik-e-Mart? (We Do.)
It’s funny. Some buzz-building marketing campaigns just irritate us. (Yes, yes, even as we sometimes, inevitably become part of them.) But others, for whatever reason, we think are kind of cute. Here’s the 7-Eleven adjacent to Port Authority on 42nd Street, decked out in promotional gimmick for the Simpsons movie. We’re going to stop for a Squishee on our way home from work.
Red Hook Too Gentrified for Wild DogsBoerum Hill: The unidentified crapper has been caught in the act! [Curbed]
Dumbo: The acronym may actually mean “Down Under the Manhattan and Brooklyn Overpasses.” [Dumbo NYC]
Fort Greene: Architectural salvage up for grabs: mantels, mirrors, bathtubs, and more! [Brownstoner]
Greenpoint: If you need a Panama hat or a fine Mexican wedding shirt, go to Huitzilli. [newyorkshitty]
Long Island City: Pay $5,000 a month for 4,700 square feet. [OuterB]
Red Hook: A couple of the wild dogs from the Revere Sugar Factory have found a new home in Pennsylvania. [Gowanus Lounge]
Lily Allen Knew She Was Going to Be Arrested
Our favorite blog-happy pop star, Lily Allen, was arrested last week — but she knew it was coming. “I’m about to be arrested,” she told us when we spent a day with her in New York last month, “just as soon as I get back to England.” She wasn’t coy about what she’d done. “I punched a paparazzi in the face,” she said. “There were 70 of them surrounding me. And I left the country the next day. They’re saying I’m going to be arrested as soon as I get back.” This was the same day Paris Hilton was sent back to prison after briefly being released for unspecified health reasons. “I could be Paris Hilton soon enough,” Allen said as she watched the scene play out on CNN from the Heatherette offices. “Oh, my God, her life is so fucking insane,” Allen groaned. “She doesn’t even do anything. I can’t wait until Lindsay Lohan goes to jail. ‘Boo hoo. I’m going to jail.’ Good. Does that mean you’ll stop showing me your pussy now?” Allen clearly thinks herself tougher than those two Yanks. “I bet English jails are nastier than American ones,” she said with a hint of pride. We’re not sure that they are. —Jada Yuan
We Cannot Believe We Continue to Watch ‘Entourage’So we were sitting there around 10:30 last night, more or less hating ourselves for just having spent a half-hour of our life watching Entourage. Had it always been this obnoxious? Did we just earlier not notice because we needed the comedown from The Sopranos, needed a half-hour of self-impressed vacuousness in which we could decompress? Or was it newly, differently bad lately, specifically last night? Good thing, then, we’ve got Vulture and its Entourage Guilt/Pleasure Index. Adam Sternbergh examines last night’s installment — including, as he points out, the most unpleasant mental image ever conjured by a television show — and declares the episode almost entirely guilty. Good to know it’s not just us.
The ‘Entourage’ Guilt/Pleasure Index: Turtle Gets a What? [Vulture]
The Return of Imus?MEDIA
• CBS Radio employees are hinting that Don Imus may be back in the fall. [NYP]
• Former Intermix head Brad Greenspan, who once owned MySpace, has made his own bid for Dow Jones. [NYT]
• Universal Music has canceled its contract with iTunes and will now sell music through Apple at will. [NYT]
The Recent GraduateOnce a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Recent Graduate: female, 22, East Village, single, straight.
1:27 a.m.: At a Williamsburg bar celebrating a friend’s 21st birthday, I drunkenly tell the cute, very quiet boy that I have a crush on him. We try to explain to each other how awkward we both are, which is an awkward conversation.
1:29 a.m.: We make out. He’s a rough kisser and keeps biting my bottom lip.
3:00 a.m.: His roommate interrupts us having sex, killing the whole interaction.
9:30 a.m.: I have breakfast in Union Square with my very hung-over Best Guy Friend. On a dare, he asks out our cute waitress. He goes with, “Um, okay. So, I’m a mess right now, and in about twelve hours I’ll be a mess again, but sometime when I’m not a mess, do you want to, uh, hang out?” She says she has a boyfriend.
West Village Rents Swallow PB&J
The decidedly quirky children’s store Peanutbutter & Jane, a nook near the corner of Hudson and Jane Streets for 26 years, closed its doors this weekend, the victim — like many other longtime West Village retailers — of wildly increasing rents. There was no formal celebration, but if you stopped by the shop Saturday afternoon — the last day of the month, and of the lease — there was plenty of misty-eyed reminiscence from nostalgic customers and grandmotherly clerks. “We’ve had customers coming in here for generations,” manager Timmie Reilly said. For the first time in decades, walls were visible in the typically hypercluttered shoebox of a store. Gone was the ruffle of tutus that previously hung from the ceiling, and only two pairs of ruby slippers remained. Moving men hauled off a shelf, and the now-antique light fixtures were sold to a dealer.