NY Mag declares New Jersey Most Livable Neighborhood in New York

J/k! Take the plunge into the statistical madness that is NY Magazine's Most Livable Neighborhood article.

Spoiler alert: number 1 with a bullet is the place that has everything - Slobitches, YOGs, and gang warfare. Sounds ideal to me!

I imagine they will continue to update this list as the affordability, shopping, and restaurants change every five minutes.

Happy birthday honey, here's a dead bird

The other day it was my lady's bday which made me think, "What sort of a cake do you get for someone you care about?" Some people love chocolate, others vanilla. For the heir of the man with the hair that owns Manhattan it's...a gun cake.

Oh but he's turning 12 so it's acceptable right? He's going through a phase. It's funny. Nope. Ladies and gentlemen, according to our dear friends at Gawker this vampire...

...just turned 26. Eric Trump serves as the Executive VP of Development and Acquisitions at The Trump Organization. And he loved his gun cake. And will inherit several million square feet of Manhattan realty.

My favorite part is the bloody bird.

NYiR's 100th post: The Jersey Shore

Okay, let's call a spade a spade. New Jersey is sorta a part of New York City. I mean, it's just as much a suburb as Westchester, only dirtier and no one actually wants to live there. How many times have you run into a friend at a party in Manhattan and you ask what's new and after exhausting every topic under the sun they mutter, "Oh yeah, I moved last week." Where? "New Jersey." Then they launch into a diatribe about how it's not that far and it's just as close a commute as Brooklyn and how you wouldn't believe the space you can get for the money. It's just sad really.

However, there is a bright side. Since New Jersey is sorta part of New York City we can lay claim to the best show since Six Feet Under. Just kidding, that show got pretentious. I digress. The best NYC-based show of 2009 is... (drum roll please) a three way tie between Gossip Girl, NYC Prep, and Jersey Shore. And 30 Rock. I forgot 30 Rock.

The Jersey Shore is a brand new Real World-esque MTV show that takes eight self-professed guidos and guidettes and puts them in a house together on the Jersey shore. They work selling t-shirts to pay rent and drink and work out and show off their abs and then go home and eat ham.

For example, take a look at JWoww (yes, she calls herself JWoww):



And now, for an introduction to the cast of the best thing to happen to Jersey since Springstein:




Taa-daaaaa. Oh, btw, the cast was at Marquee last night. Marquee. Ha.

DUMBO is DUMB

It's because of stuff like this that Peter Pan left New York City.

Weekend Snapshot

Thanks to Patrick Groneman for taking this snapshot of a sign that probably could be on any piece of realty anywhere in New York City. I bet the realtor still charges a 342598495% fee for this place.

Good shot Patrick Groneman! We remember when you were just a Patrick Growingupboy.

Craigslist ads for shitty apartments

It's impossible to be bored searching for an apartment in New York City. That is, if you're like 13,205,234,835% of the people who deem craigslist the most effective way to get one. The attention grabbing headlines on craiglist.org are pretty great.

Have you checked them out lately? You should. They're all, "THIS APARTMENT IS CRAZIER THEN BRITNEY SPEARS" or "THIS IS HOTTER THAN JENNIFER ANISTON ON THE JANUARY COVER OF GQ."

Yes my real estate devil worshiping friend Jennifer Aniston is still very very hot at age 40-99. But would I like to live inside her for more than a day or two? Debatable. How about saying things like, "This apartment is spacious and while on a 5th floor walk up it's got one small window from which you can see the L train ride by?" I may not click but I appreciate your honesty.

For anyone in the market, by the by, here is one good option.

Inaugural post: realtor fees

To start the greatest masterpiece of all internet New York fan-literature ever I have to touch on a subject that has effected almost everyone who has, does, or ever will live in New York City: realtor fees.

Getting an apartment in New York City can be exhausting. First there’s the mental exhaustion of looking at 132,435,321 places online. Then when you narrow it down to 5 places you want to see it becomes 10 because every realtor has one more place that is “just a few blocks away” that is smaller, darker, dustier, yet supposedly more like what I described to them.

So after weeks of preparation I end up wandering around in circles all over the city because some real estate agent just thought of one more place to show me that I'd absolutely love that's on the other side of some park. Cool. It's like a free guided tour of bad neighborhoods. Plus I don't have to go for a run for a week because I've just walked the New York Marathon.

But then, just when I’ve given up all hope, I find the apartment. Of course it’s more then I want to spend but it’s across the street from one I saw 12 hours earlier which is exactly where I want to be right? That loud humming noise coming from the restaurant downstairs? It’s like the realtor is saving me from buying my own noise machine to lull me to sleep each night. Fine, I’m exhausted, it seems like it’s a good place in a good location. I tell the realtor I’m in.

Now, I've looked at apartments before. I know the deal. My friends in California told me their realtors want 2-3%. But we’re on the East Coast; 5-7% is a bi hefty but if that’s what it takes…

As we approached the realtor office I began to think about the worst case scenario: one month's rent. Ok. I will figure out a way to do that. The realtor probably has little demon children to feed whose tails are growing more out of their pants every day (is that vaguely sexual? didn't mean it to be).

So imagine my surprise when I heard 15%. Fifteen percent!?!? Of an entire year! Are we having a funny moment? Am I supposed to laugh? 'Cause I'm giggling like a maniac. I can’t control myself.

Now I've watched too much dramatic television to not try to play some good cop/bad cop. I turn to my potential roommate who is looking rather pale and say, "We're not paying that." Pretending to appease me she slips into moderator mode. "Can I see your calculator?" she says. The realtor, who frankly couldn't give a shit about my theatrics and is playing with her blackberry, slides it over. The roommate presses random buttons for five minutes of uncomfortable silence before saying, "What about one month's rent?" And so the game begins.

The realtor shakes her head no. Angels cry and flames roar up from below warming my feet. Some back and forth. "This is silly," says I and make to get my coat. The realtor looks at me wondering if I'm really going to walk out. Maybe I am realtor, look into my soul with your demon eyes and see for yourself. Before my head explodes the roommate comes up with a counter proposal that works for Satan's minion: 10%.

Sure I have to call my mom and she has to offer them her first-born child but at least that first born child has an oddly shaped room in a New York City apartment now. And thus I was introduced to how ridiculous New York can be.

photo from apartmentguysofchicago.com