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WHASSUP: 80s Dance Party + Speed Dating Returns to the Slope

No one's sent me shit to post for you this week, besides a free '80s dance party in Gowanus on Saturday night, so instead of giving you an events rundown, I will try to enchant the sex lives of our single readers.

Because everyone's obviously on a secret mission to turn you all into BREEDERS, I Heart Nerds speed dating is returning to Union Hall on Sunday, September 5.  Shit fills up pretty quickly, so I figured I'd throw it all over to you early to get your single asses registered for a less lonely Labor Day weekend.

Nerdy guys register here.  Nerdy ladies register here.  Now get talking about your gripes with that old PC-2700 RAM and how excited you are about ununseptium, then go get naked, since that's obviously the most logical segue.

(Shirt via CoverMyTorso)


Is Methodist's Labor & Delivery Unit Way More Fucked Up Than Other Hospitals'?

K, so remember when we talked about the fact that all the BK mamas are defecting to go birth their tiny terrors on the the Isle du Manhattan? You told us your Methodist horror stories here.

Not too long after, we got an anonymous email from a reader who calls herself "Rogue Nurse," an R.N. at Methodist in the Labor & Delivery Unit, about the c-section sitch happening there.  The tl;dr version of it is, in this nurse's opinion, that the entire operation is fucked (in Park Slope.  Yep.).  Clickity-click for the full dispatch:

Click to read more ...


I've Seen Fire And I've Seen Rain: Goodbye Smartmom

Double Bitchburger with Cheez (DBBWC) got some VERY sad news yesterday at FIPS HQ...and by sad, I actually mean: SO NOT SAD AT ALL! Smartmom got canned by The Ridonkulous Paper in the borough of Brook! (RPITBOB).

Even Double Bitchburger with Cheez's husband Phish-a-lishy (PAL) was jumping up and down. And their beloved pooch, Hawtest Basset on the Motherfucking Planet (HBOTMP) took a dump on the living room floor...I think that was his way of saying: we are all in this together Double Bitchburger With Cheez and Phish-a-Lishy.

It's not that DBBWC, PAL or even HBOTMP wanted Smartmom to actually get canned (well, except in DBBWC's case mebbe), but it's that this really represents an end of an era for the Neighborhood That Recycles So Fucking Much (TNTRSFM). THE NEIGHBORHOOD THAT RECYCLES SO FUCKING MUCH IS CHANGED NOW AND FOREVER.

Click to read more ...


In Prospect Park, Love R00lz

WE ARE NOT ALWAYS FULL OF MEAN.  Well, usually we are.  But not always.  Case in point, this OMGZ 2 KEWT story about the above, blurry couple that FIPS reader Felicia was lovely enough to send in to us:

Love is alive and hopeful in Prospect Park.  On August 4, I was sitting on a blanket near the tennis house at around 3:30 p.m.  My 6-year-old climbed a nearby tree (yes, I breed).  The piercing voice of an older woman yelping on her cell interrupted my bliss.  She had a cliche wicker picnic basket and was sitting on a blanket under some trees.  It sounded as though she had been stood up.  "I'm HERE!  Right in FRONT of the TENNIS HOUSE?!  WHERE ARE YOU" ...then she scampered passed me.   She turned to me about to explode from some emotion that I couldn't detect.   She said to me "MY SON IS ABOUT TO PROPOSE TO HIS GIRLFRIEND OFF THREE YEARS!"  I'm all about love stories so I engaged (pun intended) her in conversation and found out the couple met at the tennis house three years ago at an event...After this devisor of sneaky engagements scurried off, I watched the proposal, the shock, the hugs, kisses, the popping of champagne and then I left my kid up in a tree to race over, congratulate them and offer to take photos.  I took a bunch of shots...They were as happy as bugs in a rug (not bedbugs!).  I could hear my son screaming in the distance, "Help, Ma, I can't get down from the tree!", so I took a bunch more pics, shook hands with them, hoping I wouldn't be spending the rest of the afternoon at Methodist's emergency room.  It wouldn't be the first time.

She ends her email by saying,

Wonder if the couple will stay in the hood to spawn, filling up valuable PS 107 & 321 slots.

We like how you think, Felicia.

FIPS wants to extend our congrats to the happy couple, wherever they are in the Park Slope ether.  May you leave your commingled DNA in a tree one day, too.


Anyone in the Mood for Some Communal Dressing Rooms?

Um, as if you actually needed a reason to quit shopping at Daffy's in Atlantic Center, FIPS reader Hannah has one pretty convincing one: Newly communal dressing rooms.

I've been a regular customer of the Atlantic Avenue Mall, and though I have put up with the shiteous shit the stores put their customers through, this tops them all. I ventured into Daffy's this morning to buy more things that I don't need. After finding some cheap dresses to try on, I walked into the dressing room and was shocked to find that Daffy's had taken down ALL the doors and curtains from the private dressing rooms and I was standing there staring at a bunch of naked chicks trying on clothes. I asked to speak to the manager and she told me (grudgingly and like I was crazy) that corporate made them do it on account of all the shoplifting. I mean, am I sniffing things or is this absolutely the weirdest thing in the world?! Has anyone else experienced this? BANANAS.

Fucking bananas, indeed.