How many times have you been on the subway enjoying your kindle (ha, kindles, why do you exist? go away) when you happen to look up and, instead of momentarily looking at those other people around you, you're forced to see this fish?
Then you look closer and you realize it's not a fish. It can't be. Because there's people riding in it. And it's in the sky. Then you look even closer and you see it's not even just people! Look at it. Look!
Those are aliens! Then there's the lizard with that woman who's wearing a sun hat INDOORS (what's with people wearing hats indoors these days?) and that knight in shining armor who isn't even going to help that dude falling out of the back of the flying fish because he's all wrapped up in the PDA going on.
I mean WHAT IS GOING ON HERE? Is this a commentary on illegal aliens? On people not helping people? On people making out with people? I know it's not a commentary on how the subway goes underground like a fish because for some reason it's FLYING. It's called "In Flight" for Christ's sake.
Chris Gall you perplex me. Consider yourself in the running for whatever the opposite of the Gentleman and Socialite award is. We'll call it the "Dumb One Year Old Kids Curate the MTA" award.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
NYiR Emergency Bulletin!
To further our coverage of Michael Jackson tributes New York is Ridiculous is proud to endorse Spike Lee's birthday party for Michael Jackson. Thank you Mr. Lee for giving us somewhere to be tomorrow.
Even the Buddha visits the Met
For the third installment of our "The Met is Ridiculous" series we will take a look at this beautiful bronze statue entitled "Seated Buddha." Hello there Seated Buddha from Pakistan. Welcome to New York City. It certainly took you long enough to visit considering you've been around since the 1ST OR 2ND CENTURY. I realize you're seated and all but seriously we both know you could have gone on priceline.com and figured out a way to get here sooner. Whatevs. You're here now.
So you're probably one of the earliest iconic representations of Shakyamuni Buddha from Gandhara? That's cool. I guess there's 2319423750897 Buddha statues there now so you decided to come to New York to make it big. Good luck Seated Buddha considering you can't even get up to change the channel on the TV! How do you think you are going to make a name for yourself when all you do is sit there???
So you get to New York City and the first thing you do? Statue of Liberty. Not a bad choice considering what the babies of New York are doing to it. Then you probably went to Times Square and took in a Broadway show before ending up at the Metropolitan Museum of Fine Arts. All fine and good except one thing Seated Buddha: YOU FORGOT TO TAKE OFF YOUR STATUE OF LIBERTY HAT!
That crown is meant for Lady Liberty Buddha, not you! What, just because you too are liberated you think you have a right to wear that ridiculous hat everywhere you go? Geez, I'm tired of standing out like a sore thumb with you. I'm no tourist. I'm going home. No, NO SEATED BUDDHA, you stay here at the Met. You think about what you've done.
And a word of advice since you're new here Seated Buddha: since you're all monastic and stuff don't fall in with the wrong crowd. [Readers note: this is a combination topless and Met article! Cross-genre in da hiz-ouseee!]
So you're probably one of the earliest iconic representations of Shakyamuni Buddha from Gandhara? That's cool. I guess there's 2319423750897 Buddha statues there now so you decided to come to New York to make it big. Good luck Seated Buddha considering you can't even get up to change the channel on the TV! How do you think you are going to make a name for yourself when all you do is sit there???
So you get to New York City and the first thing you do? Statue of Liberty. Not a bad choice considering what the babies of New York are doing to it. Then you probably went to Times Square and took in a Broadway show before ending up at the Metropolitan Museum of Fine Arts. All fine and good except one thing Seated Buddha: YOU FORGOT TO TAKE OFF YOUR STATUE OF LIBERTY HAT!
That crown is meant for Lady Liberty Buddha, not you! What, just because you too are liberated you think you have a right to wear that ridiculous hat everywhere you go? Geez, I'm tired of standing out like a sore thumb with you. I'm no tourist. I'm going home. No, NO SEATED BUDDHA, you stay here at the Met. You think about what you've done.
And a word of advice since you're new here Seated Buddha: since you're all monastic and stuff don't fall in with the wrong crowd. [Readers note: this is a combination topless and Met article! Cross-genre in da hiz-ouseee!]
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Congratulations to everyone always forever!!!1
Congratulations go out to Sam, our winner of the caption this photo contest, with the caption "hey baby, yeah you in the black. how about you come home with us and we have a 2 1/2-some?" Sam you are one witty guy. And everyone knows that ladies love a good sense of humor.
Also, congratulations to Brandon Franklin of New York, NY, our 100,000th fan on facebook! You can become our 100,001st fan by clicking here.
Also, congratulations to me for winning a million consecutive games of bocce ball at Union Hall last night. You're awesome, me. Go me!
Also, congratulations to Brandon Franklin of New York, NY, our 100,000th fan on facebook! You can become our 100,001st fan by clicking here.
Also, congratulations to me for winning a million consecutive games of bocce ball at Union Hall last night. You're awesome, me. Go me!
Monday, August 24, 2009
Go play strip poker in the park
In 1920 women were finally granted the same right as men to vote. A few year later (1992) New York went one step further. They said, "Hey, look at all these dudes walking around topless all gross and stuff. That's just not fair!" Thus the New-York-women-can-be-topless-too law came to pass.
I know, you don't believe me. But here you go. Oops. I meant here you go. Proof that not only can you go topless in the great city of New York but you can also sue people who tell you not to go topless in the great city of New York. What a city.
So ladieeeeeez, if you're feeling hot/litigious and want to make some extra cash why not go play strip poker at Central Park? Why not practice pole dancing on the subway? Why not become an erotic magician for children's birthday parties? Worst case scenario is that you go to jail for a few hours and make several thousand dollars.
On a slightly more serious note the photo above belongs to the artist Jordan Matter who shot an excellent collection of women going topless in New York City. You can preview it here.
On a less serious note we should warn you party-crazy types that while it's cool to go topless in the city it's still illegal for your donkey to fall asleep in your bathtub in Brooklyn. So if your donkey suffers from narcolepsy best to take it out only in Manhattan. Real laws. Really. Google it if ya don't believe us.
I know, you don't believe me. But here you go. Oops. I meant here you go. Proof that not only can you go topless in the great city of New York but you can also sue people who tell you not to go topless in the great city of New York. What a city.
So ladieeeeeez, if you're feeling hot/litigious and want to make some extra cash why not go play strip poker at Central Park? Why not practice pole dancing on the subway? Why not become an erotic magician for children's birthday parties? Worst case scenario is that you go to jail for a few hours and make several thousand dollars.
On a slightly more serious note the photo above belongs to the artist Jordan Matter who shot an excellent collection of women going topless in New York City. You can preview it here.
On a less serious note we should warn you party-crazy types that while it's cool to go topless in the city it's still illegal for your donkey to fall asleep in your bathtub in Brooklyn. So if your donkey suffers from narcolepsy best to take it out only in Manhattan. Real laws. Really. Google it if ya don't believe us.
Labels:
central park,
dance,
donkeys,
jeff grow is the devil,
jordan matter,
laws,
subway artist,
topless
Friday, August 21, 2009
SloBitches
Are you a member of the Park Slope Food Coop, wear hemp sandals, feed your child only organic veggies, breastfeed at the Tea Lounge and are mean to me/everyone? Chances are you are a Park Slope mom.
As a Park Slope resident (what what!) I've gotten used to not being able to leave my house between 2 - 4 pm as schools get out and these mothers roam the streets like zombies weighed down by whiny balls of Osh Kosh B'gosh. I live above a restaurant so I'm okay with having to step around strollers parked directly in front of my door every morning even though they could be parked next to the table and not in my way where I will purposefully kick them. I'm fine with waiting while order after order gets sent back at the local Starbucks because low fat milk was put in coffee instead of no fat (HOW DO YOU KNOW? HOW!?!?). Yet despite my immeasurable patience these women still grind my gears.
Why you may ask? Check out this story where a Park Slope mom is all like, "My kid is a brat and wants ice cream and I'm a bitch and won't give it to her so I think the best solution is for ice cream trucks to no longer exist."
Not enough for you? Then how about this one where a Park Slope mom is all "your dog weighs ten pounds and shits butterflies but I'm sure he will rip my child's face off as soon as it sees a swing set."
Is nothing sacred anymore Park Slope moms? That's it. Time for another acronym. You are stupid and annoying and you exhaust me Park Slope moms. That is why from henceforth you will be known as Stupid Annoying Park Slope Bitches Creating Really Annoying Zany Young'ins (S.A.P.S. B. C.R.A.Z.Y.). That's too long. I will just call you SloBitches. That almost sounds Jewish. Like you.
For further coverage on this important issue please visit our new friend fuckedinparkslope.com. We salute you fellow bloggity-blog! So much so that you have now joined the ranks of blogs we love to the right. We look forward to referencing you alllll the time in the future.
As a Park Slope resident (what what!) I've gotten used to not being able to leave my house between 2 - 4 pm as schools get out and these mothers roam the streets like zombies weighed down by whiny balls of Osh Kosh B'gosh. I live above a restaurant so I'm okay with having to step around strollers parked directly in front of my door every morning even though they could be parked next to the table and not in my way where I will purposefully kick them. I'm fine with waiting while order after order gets sent back at the local Starbucks because low fat milk was put in coffee instead of no fat (HOW DO YOU KNOW? HOW!?!?). Yet despite my immeasurable patience these women still grind my gears.
Why you may ask? Check out this story where a Park Slope mom is all like, "My kid is a brat and wants ice cream and I'm a bitch and won't give it to her so I think the best solution is for ice cream trucks to no longer exist."
Not enough for you? Then how about this one where a Park Slope mom is all "your dog weighs ten pounds and shits butterflies but I'm sure he will rip my child's face off as soon as it sees a swing set."
Is nothing sacred anymore Park Slope moms? That's it. Time for another acronym. You are stupid and annoying and you exhaust me Park Slope moms. That is why from henceforth you will be known as Stupid Annoying Park Slope Bitches Creating Really Annoying Zany Young'ins (S.A.P.S. B. C.R.A.Z.Y.). That's too long. I will just call you SloBitches. That almost sounds Jewish. Like you.
For further coverage on this important issue please visit our new friend fuckedinparkslope.com. We salute you fellow bloggity-blog! So much so that you have now joined the ranks of blogs we love to the right. We look forward to referencing you alllll the time in the future.
Labels:
babies,
blogs,
dogs,
food coop,
jews,
kids,
park slope,
short,
SloBitches,
slow,
stroller,
taking things really seriously
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
The Jane has two weeks before ADHD NYC moves on
People don't call other people in New York City. They text. And I have 32423542 text messages from people saying "Do u want 2 go 2 the Jane 2nite? It will b kewl." God I hate those text messages, unless they are ironic in which case they are hilarious.
Anyway I guess The Ballroom at the Jane Hotel is where all the same people who ran The Beatrice Inn into the ground now go. I liked the Beatrice until it closed, even though they wouldn't let me dance on table tops. Apparently I'm not Lindsay Lohan. I did not know that before. I did not know.
In early July I was at a party and this guy was all like, "Let's go to Jane St" like everyone and their mom knew about the Jane. Even though it opened three weeks earlier. So we went because supposedly it's the hippest joint in all da land. And because ALLLL the celebs go there. And because it's been described as "the type of living room where the Royal Tenenbaums would host their family reunion" and who doesn't love family reunions?
You know what? It's okay. Just okay. Yes "the Jane," you have two floors and a DJ but your drinks are expensive and everyone there is trying too damn hard. You're the type of place where everyone is talking to someone but looking over their shoulder looking for someone better to talk to. All you have going for you is that you are a big open space and decent bouncers who make sure that only 10% of that space gets occupied. So maybe you're not okay. In fact, you make me sick Jane St.
But not for long. Because you know what? We New Yorkers have ADHD when it comes to places like you. You are just another club in a far off location that people will get drunk and go to in the hopes of it being awesome but just like every New Year's Eve in the history of time they will leave anti-climaxed, disappointed, throw up at home and wake up thinking that they must have had an awesome time. That works on us New Yorkers once, the Jane. Twice tops. Ok, maybe five times. But that's it.
I give you two months.
Also, for those of you who are thinking "Oh, a nice hotel! I should stay there and have cocktails at their ballroom and maybe see Ed Westwick" I invite you to view this video. Apparently they blare a haunted house tape throughout their hallways. SCARY...
Anyway I guess The Ballroom at the Jane Hotel is where all the same people who ran The Beatrice Inn into the ground now go. I liked the Beatrice until it closed, even though they wouldn't let me dance on table tops. Apparently I'm not Lindsay Lohan. I did not know that before. I did not know.
In early July I was at a party and this guy was all like, "Let's go to Jane St" like everyone and their mom knew about the Jane. Even though it opened three weeks earlier. So we went because supposedly it's the hippest joint in all da land. And because ALLLL the celebs go there. And because it's been described as "the type of living room where the Royal Tenenbaums would host their family reunion" and who doesn't love family reunions?
You know what? It's okay. Just okay. Yes "the Jane," you have two floors and a DJ but your drinks are expensive and everyone there is trying too damn hard. You're the type of place where everyone is talking to someone but looking over their shoulder looking for someone better to talk to. All you have going for you is that you are a big open space and decent bouncers who make sure that only 10% of that space gets occupied. So maybe you're not okay. In fact, you make me sick Jane St.
But not for long. Because you know what? We New Yorkers have ADHD when it comes to places like you. You are just another club in a far off location that people will get drunk and go to in the hopes of it being awesome but just like every New Year's Eve in the history of time they will leave anti-climaxed, disappointed, throw up at home and wake up thinking that they must have had an awesome time. That works on us New Yorkers once, the Jane. Twice tops. Ok, maybe five times. But that's it.
I give you two months.
Also, for those of you who are thinking "Oh, a nice hotel! I should stay there and have cocktails at their ballroom and maybe see Ed Westwick" I invite you to view this video. Apparently they blare a haunted house tape throughout their hallways. SCARY...
Monday, August 17, 2009
Our bouncing dolphin friend is SO CONTROVERSIAL
Remember Nate Hill the bouncing dolphin from the good old days on this blog? We do. Because he's showing up in the news as a drug dealer. Oh Nate whatever have you gotten yourself into? And why haven't you written a caption for Mae Ryan's photo below? WHY HAVE NONE OF YOU DONE THAT YET? WHYYYYY???
Friday, August 14, 2009
Caption this contest
Thanks to Mae Ryan for this excellent subway scene! Please insert your own caption in the comment section. Or I will cry. It will really hurt. The winner will get my undying adoration.
UPDATE: the winner is Sam with the caption "hey baby, yeah you in the black. how about you come home with us and we have a 2 1/2-some?" Go SAM!
UPDATE: the winner is Sam with the caption "hey baby, yeah you in the black. how about you come home with us and we have a 2 1/2-some?" Go SAM!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Drinks at the SoHo Grand
I love cocktails. I'm not ashamed to admit it. They are yummy. Particularly at the SoHo Grand Hotel Bar and Lounge. I went there for a hangover brunch feeling awful and then I met you, Bloody Mary at the SoHo Grand. You were my everything. You picked me up when I was down. You gave me fresh life and restored me to perfect health. You are a miracle and I am so glad you have entered my life.
I'm also a big fan of the SoHo's Perfect Ten which consists of "stolichnaya vanil, pineapple juice, lemon." I don't know what language "stolichnaya vanil" comes from but I'm pretty sure it can best be translated as "nectar of the loins of the gods." It also has a slew of secret ingredients that get me as excited as when I'm on a boat. As you may recall I'm not a big fan of expensive drinks but I lurve the Perfect Ten.
Also, while this is a high class joint I highly recommend going there in jeans and a t-shirt because then everyone else in their suits and party dresses think you're in a band. And that's awesome.
I'm also a big fan of the SoHo's Perfect Ten which consists of "stolichnaya vanil, pineapple juice, lemon." I don't know what language "stolichnaya vanil" comes from but I'm pretty sure it can best be translated as "nectar of the loins of the gods." It also has a slew of secret ingredients that get me as excited as when I'm on a boat. As you may recall I'm not a big fan of expensive drinks but I lurve the Perfect Ten.
Also, while this is a high class joint I highly recommend going there in jeans and a t-shirt because then everyone else in their suits and party dresses think you're in a band. And that's awesome.
Labels:
bars,
being awesome,
being drunk,
expensive,
food tastes good,
hotels,
lonely island,
soho,
v-necks
Monday, August 10, 2009
Shoot the Freak at Coney Island
I just went to Coney Island for the first time last weekend which, as far as I can tell, is the Capitol of Ridiculous within the great state of New York City. You can experience Mets-league baseball, about-to-set-fire-to-the-wharf-fireworks, omg-i-am-sure-this-will-break-and-i-will-die-rides, and then you're walking along and all of a sudden someone yells at you, "Hey there ya freak in the blue shirt. With that freak of a girl. Ya you. Come shoot the freak you freak" and you turn around and there's this gentleman running around with a shield and a helmet like he's the last kid in dodge ball and he's alergic to styrofoam.
I'm not sure what makes this young man a freak. He seems like a normal "real live human" to me but maybe he's got a second head or lives with his mom in Jersey or something. What do you think makes someone want to be "the freak?" Was this a childhood ambition? Or is this poor man just trying to put himself through med school? In any case you can shoot him with paintballs very cheaply while someone yells at you to aim for his head. Watch as our frequent-posting author Ian Bascetta demonstrates:Ian suffered through 'Nam and when he ran out of paintballs he just went berserk, screamed, and started shooting air at the man. That freak freaked the f out and ran for it.
To see an in-depth report and watch the freak get shot click here.
I'm not sure what makes this young man a freak. He seems like a normal "real live human" to me but maybe he's got a second head or lives with his mom in Jersey or something. What do you think makes someone want to be "the freak?" Was this a childhood ambition? Or is this poor man just trying to put himself through med school? In any case you can shoot him with paintballs very cheaply while someone yells at you to aim for his head. Watch as our frequent-posting author Ian Bascetta demonstrates:Ian suffered through 'Nam and when he ran out of paintballs he just went berserk, screamed, and started shooting air at the man. That freak freaked the f out and ran for it.
To see an in-depth report and watch the freak get shot click here.
Labels:
balls,
big gloves,
cheap,
coney island,
freaks,
ian loves jersey
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
NYC Prep kids f*ck anything that moves, soccer balls get lucky
Look at how cute and young they are! Nothing against the Gossip Girl cast but these kids from the reality TV show NYC Prep are ACTUALLY 15-17! Not 3,124 (Ed Westwick). I like that they tried to get an Ed Westwick/Chuck character here though (third from right). Look at how badass he is. He wears scarves. And is moody. And, like Ed Westwick, he may or may not be gay (NSFW LMAO U QT PI!).
Also, while the cast of Gossip Girl may sleep with one another before falling into exhaustive cuddling and drama these tweens just f*ck anything that moves. There's one scene where Sebastian (second from the left) and Taylor (far right) are taking a walk in the snow and kicking a soccer ball. Taylor, age 15, gets sorta confused and you worry for a second that she might start making out with the soccer ball just because it's more active than the douche she's walking with.
If you want to watch one episode to try NYC Prep out go for number 3 where Chamille (third from the left) is on a date with some random dude she doesn't like and keeps telling him he's annoying then gets in a cab to blow him on the way back to his place. Seriously. I still would be fine hanging out with Leighton Mouseters of Gossip Girl but if I ever see someone from NYC Prep I'm covering myself in saran wrap and checking into the nearest STD clinic. But enough about me. Check the video below for a funny introduction to these kids.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Magnolia cupcakes are better than sex (believe me, I've almost had sex before)
Thank you for the report, blonde blair witch from the playboy mansion who sweats like a whore in church! I agree, Magnolia's cupcakes are awesome.
Made famous to me by Andy Samberg's "Lazy Sunday" I have to admit I was suspicious. I mean, this is the same guy who told me to put my dick in a box and give it to girls as a present. And we all know you get arrested for that unless you're famous.
Still, biting into one of these cupcakes for the first time is like that screaming orgasm scene in that movie we all grew up on. Y'know, Debbie Does Dallas. When she finally gets to Dallas and does him (yes, Dallas is a guy, not a city in this film you sicko). Here, you should chill out and rest in a love more pure than sex - the love of cupcakes.
Labels:
cake,
cupcakes,
great buys,
harry potter,
lonely island,
magnolia bakery,
sex
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