Nina In New York: Weiner's Potential Comeback, Plus 3 More Ridiculous Stories From This Week
A lighthearted look at news, events, culture and everyday life in New York. The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.
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By Nina Pajak
All sorts of newsness happened this week, in addition to weather. It was grand, wasn't it? We said hello to spring and then immediately said hello and goodbye to summer and now I guess we're sort of stuck with the reality of what spring is supposed to look like in New York, which is grey and rainy and chillier than you want it to be, but warm enough that you can pretend you don't need socks or coats anymore. Hooray?
Anyway, on to the important stuff.
Anthony Weiner is back on the political stage with the question of whether he might try to run for mayor in New York City. I, for one, am very pleased by this news. First, I always did think he was an intelligent and well-meaning public servant. Two, he provided me with some of the best schadenfreude-based entertainment I've had in years, and it lasted for weeks. Between the weiner jokes and the many, many mentions of "dick pics" flooding the internet, his bizarre, near-nude, bare-chested, bulge-y Twitter sex scandal practically broke the internet. And let's be honest: it takes some brass beans (no pun intended) to get back up on the horse after a fall like that. I respect the guy for being brave enough to put himself back out there with all his personal weirdnesses known to the public. We know him so intimately now, it's almost like he'd be returning as that old friend who you know from college and used to have the best time with until that one weird night after too many games of Kings when that thing happened that you agreed never to discuss, ever. Things go sort of awkward after that, and you wish they hadn't, and it sure would be nice to have an opportunity to agree to forget about the whole mess so you can have fun again. Know what I mean? I sort of do.
Bravo is working on a new reality show to follow their enormously successful "Real Housewives" franchise. It's called "Princesses: Long Island," and I imagine it will be, as they say, "bad for the Jews." I suppose it's our turn, since the network has already exploited every other ethnic and socioeconomic stereotypical community in every major metropolitan area in the country. But the description of the series does not bode well. Via Newsday: ""Meet . . . six young women from Great Neck, Long Island [ed. note: obvi] who return to their pampered lifestyles in the comfort of their parents' estates and at the expense of their fathers' bank accounts. This new docu-series offers a window into their unique family dynamics and personal lives filled with labels, luxury, and love trials." Oy.
Treasonous behavior! Vonage, an Internet-based phone company with surprisingly persuasive commercials, is giving out phone numbers to people all over the country using 212 area codes. What? No. How! Kill them! That is our area code. It means our city. Imagine some dope in Omaha (no offense, dopes in Omaha) getting a 212 number and just having no idea what that even means. How can they go distributing them willy-nilly when there are so many poor people on our island getting stuck with 347 numbers and—I shudder to say it—646 numbers every day? This is an outrage. I think the entire city should boycott Vonage and any other company engaging in this repulsive practice until they agree to respect our hard-won turf. We earned that area code. We know how to appreciate it. We understand it and know what it needs. I won't stand for this sort of usurpation. Despicable is what it is.
And speaking of despicable, did you hear the one about the young heroin addict who convinced lots of people that she had like five kinds of terminal cancer so that she could scam them out of money to support her drug habit? She even got her grandma to sell her home and wheel her around to local stores in order to convince them to donate or help her cause. There isn't a whole lot that needs to be said here, except that perhaps someone should have gotten wise to her at some point after reading that she allegedly had ovarian, stomach, bone and brain cancer. I can just imagine her, opiate-addled criminal that she is, sitting there coming up with her pitch and Googling "worst cancers to have." I would say I hope the poor, misdirected soul gets the help she needs, but can I be real for a moment? I don't care. There are many, many more deserving people who need help and don't collect public pity because they never commit a newsworthy fraud in order to wind up in the local news. Screw her and her fifteen fake cancers. I just hope her grandma gets some of that money back.
People are just the worst. So I leave you with this little guy to lift your spirits back up. Daaw.
