quiddities and agonies of the ruling class - a rolling new york times thread

But these days, to afford these sexy-factor places, Mr. Seawood said, bachelors make concessions, either by sacrificing location or by “tag teaming,” as he calls subdividing a space. In previous years, for a $3,500-a-month one-bedroom, “I would have had a few solo guys. Now it’s like, ‘Me and my buddy are going to be here,’ ” he said.

sounds like Mr. Seawood has a rich fantasy life

a two-bedroom condominium in a new building in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, for which he paid $3,300 a month.

sentences like this make my head spin.

the $500,000 apartment purchase "on a decrepit block in Bushwick" is even more o_0

Uneasy lies the head that strolls a baby

Elsewhere:

Part of the appeal, in fact, is in how the clothes relate not to the runways or the estates of Europe, but to America’s heartland in ways that few fashions do. Country and city men alike have rediscovered old-school American brands like Filson, Orvis, L. L. Bean and Duluth Pack.

...wait, L. L. Bean 'rediscovered'?

Three webpages worth.

the best part about how quickly fashion trends change is that you can write the same article every 9-18 months and still have it be up-to-date

i always wonder what it must be like to write the least important articles for the newspaper of record. would i care more about writing the crappy content our would i still feel proud of where i did it?

the only luxurious aspect of my bachelor pad is that i don't have to pick up the laundry off the floor every day.

where do they find these people?

guys wanna see the front page washington post style story today?

the writers at the SF Chronicle must have internal competitions for who can write the puffiest puff piece.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/11/11/AR2009111127404.html?hpid=topnews

this was front page of the entire newspaper

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/11/11/AR2009111115683.html

The culprits could be anywhere -- a crowded train, an SUV on the Beltway

Naked things. Naked, noisy things, unfettered by the restraints of human anatomy
!!!!

Teenager Writes In Indecipherable Street Slang

hippos are pretty fucking important imo.

indecipherable

"where's my pancakes" is not that hard to understand? dude just wants some eats.

Nu-Americana has been a big trend for a couple of years now. Hard to imagine it's not on its way out.

ilx needs more hippos posting

I enjoyed it, though, because my lumberjack beard and flannel made me look fashion-forward rather than unkempt.

The Post and the Times both covered this story, about a man accused of robbery whose alibi was a Facebook status update. Both papers though, censored the update itself, which was apparently "indecipherable". Except it wasn't.

The Times story, on The Local blog, opened with this:

Where's my pancakes, read Rodney Bradford's Facebook page, in a message typed on Saturday, Oct. 17, at 11:49 a.m., from a computer in his father's apartment in Harlem.

They admit they paraphrased because the update was written in "indecipherable street slang." The Post, meanwhile, actually ran some of the original update, in its distinctive all-caps:

Prosecutors dropped a robbery charge against Rodney Bradford, 19, after learning his Facebook account status had been updated with the inside joke "WHERE MY IHOP?

A look at the screenshot above however (it's at the bottom, you have to squint) reveals that the real status update was:

ON THE PHONE WITH THIS FAT CHICK… WHERER MY IHOP

I'm no street-slang deciphering expert, but it seems like he was saying he was on the phone to a fat chick and wanted some pancakes.

http://gawker.com/5403874/papers-find-facebook-status-too-risque-to-print

LOL indecipherable street slang

pancakes = crack cocaine in street slang

rly?

want pancakes (no crack)

not rly, sorry

3. pancakes 109 up, 75 down

A slang term for crack cocaine and flapjacks

This term started after the episode of Family Guy when Meg inadvertently tricks a social worker into thinking Stewie is addicted to crack
Some guy: I gotta score some Pancakes man
Another guy: It's a little late for breakfast don't you think?

oh haha ˘\(o_º)/˘

well its slang for crack on one episode of family guy

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/27/nyregion/27doormen.html

(Full disclosure: I live in a building on East 74th Street, where I grew up playing ball with the doormen and today often find myself in long chats with them about politics and family. And while the doormen of my childhood sat and listened to the ball game in shirt sleeves, staff members today keep jackets on and stand behind a little wooden lectern.)

???
really didn't need this disclosure nytimes reporter

(just fyi im totally down w/ doormen)

Did you grow up with them in a lectern?

(Full disclosure: I live in a building on East 74th Street, where I grew up playing ball with the doormen and today often find myself in long chats with them about politics and family. And while the doormen of my childhood sat and listened to the ball game in shirt sleeves, staff members today keep jackets on and stand behind a little wooden lectern.)

Also, great headline

hahaxp

there's a good article or five to be written about doormen but that ain't it

One need not look further than the lobby of Apple’s headquarters in Cupertino, Calif., to see that the iPhone and applications that run on it are centerpieces of the company’s mobile strategy.

Fascinating! Tell me more!

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/06/technology/06apps.html?em

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/story/2009/12/04/ST2009120402037.html?sid=ST2009120402037

Hey now, we have another thread for that!

quiddities and agonies of the ruling class, DC edition - a rolling washington post thread

oh ha didn't kno

o man the post is just like *smh*

the only reason i can think of for this not being on this thread yet is that nobody could bring themselves to read it. (i made it onto the second page, just barely...)

lol i thought about posting that but was like, can i in good conscience post an article i can't even read through myself :)

i'm embarrassed i even read that much of it.

i mean i know i have defended the new york times on this thread but SOMETIMES THEY MAKE IT HARD.

(that is not a reference to any sexual details that may or may not be in that article, and if there are sexual details in that article, i don't want to know.)

I couldn't even be bothered to start it. Summarize it in the most nauseating way possible.

i can summarize the first page:

hi me and my husband are smart, attractive people (did i mention he's on a fitness program to give himself the body of a Marine?) with interesting backgrounds who got married because we were madly in love and now we have two lovely children and a house we renovated ourselves with money from a book advance and we're both successful writers so what with being fabulously happy and successful and all i thought i should write a memoir about trying to make our already-really-swell marriage EVEN MORE FANTASTIC by REALLY THINKING about what kind of relationship we really want to have and being really honest and open with each other. and now i'm going to spend 4,000 words telling you the candid details. (if you like it, you can buy my book!)

top of page 10

The following weekend: jealousy again (or was it an attempt to fuel our eroticism with tension?). I said yes a bit too forcefully when Dan asked if I’d noticed a well-muscled young man at the pool. Dan was allowing for my sexual free agency, granting me my full humanity. We lived, raised children, worked and slept together. Now we needed to gouge out a gap to bridge, an erotic synapse to cross. It was exhausting. “That guy did the epitome of bad-values hypertrophy training” — vanity weight lifting, in Dan’s estimation, just to get buff. “You’re like a guy admitting he likes fake boobs. And he had chicken legs. Did you notice that, too?”

her husband is a surfer who is the child of hippies. he cooks so much delicious food they haven't even saved for their retirement!!! can you believe that? he really loves to cook, he's like a chef

and later

Still, night after night, I’d slide into bed next to Dan. He often slept in a white T-shirt and white boxer briefs, a white-cased pillow wrapped over his head to block out my reading light, his toppled stacks of cookbooks and workout manuals strewn on the floor.

But as I watched Dan sleep — his beef-heart recipe earmarked, his power lift planned — I felt more committed than ever. I also felt our project could begin in earnest: we could demand of ourselves, and each other, the courage and patience to grow.