190 pie tins for sale. What the hell do you do with 190 pie tins? Fill them with whipped cream and film a Three Stooges scene. Hey Mo!
$540 value. So this makes your penis longer and uh. There is metal, straps, a ring and a box. Ugh the box and the horrors that might be within it frighten me. What's in the box? What's in the fucking box? Honestly, I don't care. I would do terrible things to my penis to make it comically large.
These are some pretty impressive photo portraits. And I don't just mean the attractive naked bodies that modeled for them. The lighting and shit. I don't know. I didn't go to school for photography. It looks good to me though. That last guy might be Antonio Sabato Junior. Guess he's pretty hard up for scratch now.
There is a Park Slope Youth Track team and they're looking for two kids in each age group. Kind of limited, no? So I'm assuming there are tryouts. Can we gamble on it? That might be the most fun thing to happen to this neighborhood in a long time. I'll take the tall girl!
Whenever I write these "Cool or Not Cool" posts I TRY to stay fairly impartial. I said try -- it's not a perfect system. But FIPS'ters I just can't do that with this one. When some a-hole tattoo artist decides to ink his poor dog while he's under anesthesia at the vet, to me this is totally NOT COOL!
According to the Daily News, a Brooklyn-based tattoo artist known by his nickname Mistah Metro, posted a picture on Instagram of his dog passed out in the Vet's office with a new heart-shaped tattoo that read "Alex" and "Mel." With the post he wrote, "“One of the many reasons my dog is cooler than your[s]! She had her spleen removed today and the vet let me tattoo her while she was under.”
The pic was reposted by Gothemist and it immediately drew a slew of outrage. So much so that Mistah Metro removed the picture from his account just not getting why people had their balls in a knot over this:“Had to delete my account and make up another, some people just don’t appreciate anything! It’s an ANIMAL with a tattoo.”
This past week, you had Mardis Gras to organize your binge-drinking around -- "Mardi Gras," which is of course French for "beads earned due to the possession of breasts." But just because the French party is over, doesn't mean your party has to stop. Keep it going with Whassup: Mardi Gratuitous Edition:
* ONSALE Thursday, March 6: 'Game of Thrones' Screening, Barclays: How do you make "Game of Thrones" bigger? Well, you could put it on a massive screen, for starters. Barclays will be doing just that, hosting a GOT "Epic Fan Experience." They will show the Season 4 premiere, two weeks early, on a stadium-sized screen. The event will also trudge along costumes and props from the show, the famous Iron Throne, and more swords and sorcery type stuff. Screening March 20, $15 tickets.
* Friday, March 7: Competitive Erotic Fan Fiction, Union Hall: If you're anything like me, you're tired of all this pansy, everybody-gets-a-ribbon, let's-all-get-along erotic fan fiction. What that shit needs is some hard-core COMPETITION. Well, thankfully, the first word in "Competitive Erotic Fan Fiction" is competitive. A set of comics will read and perform sexy shipping pieces about their favorite pop culture schlock. As the show itself proudly states, "It's really stupid." 8pm, $10.
* Friday, March 7: March of Buffy, Bell House: The regularly occurring "Party Like It's 1999" nostalgia-fest sets its sights on that most '90s of vampire killers, Buffy. This edition of the '90s hip-hop and pop dance party celebrates the 1997 debut of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer." Come kill some bloodsuckers with your sick moves. 10pm, FREE.
WHAT YOU SHOULD ORDER AT...is a recurring column designed in kind for your opinionated asses and our lazy asses. When the mood strikes, we pick one Park Slope resto and recommend our favorite dish. Are we right? Are we wrong? YOU KNOW YOU WANNA WEIGH IN.
Summer 2008. The East Village. Hot nights, cold beer, Artichoke Pizza. I sneered at the suckers in line at Magnolia, but queued up at Artichoke time and time again. However long it took, however many cool kids clogged the sidewalk, however dismissive (flirty?) the greasy cashier, I stood and waited for my artichoke slice. Part cream of spinach soup, part artichoke dip, part saltlick, and part pizza, it was the kind of experience that made you feel alive.
Six years later, and Manhattan’s little more than a glittering mirage (I used to live where? How glamorous!). For us Park Slopers, what with our kids and our YMCAs and our alternate side parking arrangements, a trip to East 14th Street is like a trip to the moon. Is there any hope?