Text Psychics in Action

An excerpt from our fine text psychic service at work. 14 year old boys text the darndest things; wait til his mother gets the bill….

user44464 – 21/06/2006 21:51 : hello
user44464 – 21/06/2006 21:56 : Kyle april 8, 1987 will i ever have sex
Ming – 28/06/2006 21:23 : Hello, I am your personal Psychic. Is there anything I can do for you today?
user44464 – 28/06/2006 21:25 : Yea you can do something for me FUCK me Whor FUCK you
Ming – 28/06/2006 21:26 : According to the stars, you are going to face some changes in the near future… do you want to know more??
user44464 – 28/06/2006 21:27 : Yes slut
Ming – 28/06/2006 21:41 : What do you mean?? what do you want to ask me??
user44464 – 28/06/2006 21:43 : Are you a Whor
Ming – 28/06/2006 21:50 : No… My name is Ming, and I am a male astrologist, I am here to answer all the questions you want about the future…
user44464 – 28/06/2006 21:52 : Will you ever become a male Whor
Ming – 28/06/2006 21:58 : no… and you are insulting me… if you are not interested in the service… I will kindly ask you to stop sending me this kind of messages
user44464 – 28/06/2006 22:02 : Ok ok ok ok Fag you are a FUCKIN queer oh n my question is what will i be when i grow up im 14 years old FUCK off bitch
Ming – 28/06/2006 22:27 : According to the stars, you are going to be a very successful person in the future…
Ming – 28/06/2006 22:27 : In any career you choose…
user44464 – 28/06/2006 23:08 : Are you a chicken fucker you imbread fucker
Ming – 28/06/2006 23:33 : I am not going to text you anymore… I am sorry, but you are insulting me…
user44464 – 28/06/2006 23:41 : FUCK you chicken fucker

Florrie Fisher: Strangest Without Candy

Yeah, Superman Returns this weekend, but a bit lower, slower though no less powerful, Strangers with Candy finally hits the big screen. Below, clips from Florrie Fisher’s otherwordly “The Trip Back” and a comment about Amy on someone’s blog:

Amy Sedaris…Not only would I bang the shit out of her, I would bang the shit out of her ten years from now. That is one sexy menopausal broad. Sure, she looks like a ton of salt water taffy on TV, but when you see her live, she is one hot piece. Call me Amy, I do funky shit.

CLIP 01

CLIP 02

Gooooooo….om…mmm

BANGKOK (Reuters) – Buddhist monks in Thailand are too tired to receive early morning alms because they are staying up late to watch the World Cup, a Thai newspaper reported on Wednesday.
The Nation quoted a woman in the northern city of Chiang Mai who said her birthday celebrations were ruined because monks at a city temple were not awake to receive her morning offering, a mandatory religious ritual in the predominately Buddhist country.
In neighboring Cambodia, some 40,000 monks have been warned they could be defrocked if they became too excited while watching the games.
“If they make noise or cheer as they watch, they will lose their monkhood,” Phnom Penh patriarch Non Nget told Reuters this month.

[What could be so distracting to risk losing your monk hood? But, I'd pro'lly be pissed too if my mandatory monring ritual offering was ruined (ruined!!!)---especially on my birthday.]

#

Unique Freak: Dead or Alive?

Pete Burns comes quite alive on his 2006 “Freak Unique” bio, 2000 “Hit and Run Lover” video, and twin-spirit make-over. Those eyes, those lips, those hands…

Summer Stage: Swelter & Didion

Now that I’m a stoner’s throw from Central Park, I can look forward to a season’s worth of free entertainment and hot fun in the summer time. Besides the usual Roller Disco shenanigans, Summerstage is offering up this one-two head spinner: Shelter and Joan Didion; the disco that makes me glad I’m a New Yorker, and the writer that makes me homesick for California. The fact that her daughter is named (Quintana Roo) after a Mayan town a stone’s throw from my birthplace in Yucatan only sweetens the pot.

	Club Shelter’s 15th Anniversary Dance Party Tourtured Soul, Peven Everett, DJs: Timmy Regisford and Sting International
	Saturday, June 24, 2006 From 3:00 PM to 6:00 PM
	This is a Free Music Event.

	Joan Didion
	Friday, June 30, 2006 From 7:30 PM to 10:00 PM Central Park SummerStage
	The author reads from her award-winning memoir “The Year Of Magical Thinking.” FREE

Warm it UP, Queens (PS1, that is)

Warm Up 2006 Schedule July 1 Body & SOUL Ten-Year Reunion with Danny Krivit, François K. and Joe Claussell July 8 The Idjut Boys (U-Star, Cottage, Tirk, London) Phil South (No Ordinary Monkey, NYC) July 15 Todd Terje (Full Pupp, Oslo, Norway) Kudu “live” (Nublu, NYC) Citizen Kane (APT, NYC) July 22 A Guy Called Gerald “live”(Sugoi, U.K. Berlin) San Serac “live” (Output, Boston) Derek Plaslaiko (Ghostly, NYC) July 29 The Juan Maclean “live” (DFA) Adam X “live” (Sonic Groove, NYC) Jeffrey Sfire (Ghostly, NYC) Aug 26 The Glimmers (Eskimo, Belgium) + a special guest Sept 2 Carl Craig (Planet E, Detroit) Gamal (Demon Days, NYC) + a special guest

Louie Vega, Mac Daddy

If you’re a mutant Mac/House head, tonight’s your lucky night.

The 24/7 flagship on 5th Ave and 57th is hosting a series of Friday night get downs.

In the mix tonight: Louie Vega

Din Daa Don’t

Just in time for the latest Defense of Marriage hoopla and Pride shenanigans, Kevin Aviance got bashed on Saturday night after leaving the Phoenix in the East Village. Terre sent me a text message that it was on the news. This Saturday there’s a rally. The blogosphere is buzzing (Lady Bunny, RuPaul, et. al). Guess the Village ain’t what it used to be. The only time I ever worked with Kevin was when we booked him and Mary J. Blige for a “Hot Boys 2001″ gay pride party with Vibe (again, in one week, this rag is haunting me?). When Aviance got done with his Din Da Da routine and the Mary tranny impersonators with theirs, Mary took the Mic and commented, “Wow, never seen nothing like that.” Mmm hmm. Other memorable commentary from that evening include Mary’s posse demanding in no uncertain terms the best “Mer-lott” in the house, and the limo company calling me on my cell phone at 3:00 AM to complain about “your client” doing blow in the car. “That can’t be, she’s a spokesperson for the anti-drug campaign,” I exclaimed incredulously in between sniffles.

Din Daa Don’t

Just in time for the latest Defense of Marriage hoopla and Pride shenanigans, Kevin Aviance got bashed on Saturday night after leaving the Phoenix in the East Village. Terre sent me a text message that it was on the news. This Saturday there’s a rally. The blogosphere is buzzing (Lady Bunny, RuPaul, et. al). Guess the Village ain’t what it used to be. The only time I ever worked with Kevin was when we booked him and Mary J. Blige for a “Hot Boys 2001″ gay pride party with Vibe (again, in one week, this rag is haunting me?). When Aviance got done with his Din Da Da routine and the Mary tranny impersonators with theirs, Mary took the Mic and commented, “Wow, never seen nothing like that.” Mmm hmm. Other memorable commentary from that evening include Mary’s posse demanding in no uncertain terms the best “Mer-lott” in the house, and the limo company calling me on my cell phone at 3:00 AM to complain about “your client” doing blow in the car. “That can’t be, she’s a spokesperson for the anti-drug campaign,” I exclaimed incredulously in between sniffles.

Jacob the Launderer?

This just in… Hip Hop, Mafia, Cocaine, Money Laundering? In New York? Nah…

Popular jeweler Yakov “Jacob the Jeweler” Arabov was arrested today (June 15) on money-laundering charges and released on $100,000 bail according to reports. Arabov…was charged with conspiring to launder over $270 million dollars for Black Mafia Family or BMF. Authorities claim [he] also conspired to distribute over 476 kilos of cocaine for BMF. “We are confident that once the government is advised of all the facts surrounding these issues that all of the charges against Mr. Arabov will be completely dismissed,” Paul Wilmot, a spokesman for Jacob & Co. said…Jacob the Jeweler’s signature time pieces have been featured in numerous magazines and such celebrities as Angela Bassett, Sean “Diddy” Combs, Enrique Iglesias, Justin Timberlake, David & Victoria Beckham, Sir Elton John, Naomi Campbell, 50 Cent, Madonna and Sharon & Ozzy Osbourne are listed as clients on his official website.

Full story here

PS – Paul Wilmott is part of Wendy William’s “alleged” gay hip hop (not-so) “secret society” — ie, friend of Emil’s. His PR firm handled alot of Vibe magazine subjects and he was often calling, coming by the office, or sending gifts to the esteemed Editor-in-Chief. More on the Magazine Velvet Mafia and Secret Society (including news of my departure) at Urban Expose:

I just heard Emil’s assistant gave his two week notice……I wonder why?????? He could do so much better than to listen to Emil’s every command……Emil, Laura, Shani, and Mimi are all assholes……..

I guess he got sick of Emil’s constant requests for blowjobs #

Text Survey Says…

The BBC has set up a Billboard in Times Square kitty corner to the office. It features a hot topic (like immigration) and invites people to text their opinions. The opinions are tallied and displayed in real time. Today at lunch, I noticed it was about Iraq; one counter read “Liberators” and the other “Occupiers” —-sadly, the Liberators counter ranked higher, probably on account of all the heartland patriot touristas congesting Broadway at mid-day while I’m trying to cop my $10 salad. Of course, I took my phone out and texted “Occupiers” then watched the tally add one to its count and returned to my cube to see what the rest of America was texting on my watch.

Thin Slicing on the Subway

To balance my reading and writing, I’ve started making use of my library card again. Currently I’m reading Malcolm Gladwell’s “Blink” about people’s ability to make correct, intuitive snap judgements, aka “thin-slicing.” Since I spend all day analyzing text chatter limited to 160 characters per message, I thought there might be lessons in the book I could apply to work.
Last night, after another long day at the office, I got on the C train at 50th St, book in hand, iPod blaring Richard Kirk’s latest Sandoz dub-electronica in preparation for my interview next week. Just before pulling into Columbus Circle the train stopped. Over the speakers it was announced in shrill static, “Due to an earlier police incident at 125th street…” I thought nothing of it, and returned to reading.
When I got home and flipped on New York 1, it turns out the incident was a stabbing, between 125th and 110th; my stop is 103rd St. Apparently randomly, a tourist was shanked and the perp fled.
This morning, as I’m getting the weather “on the ones” three more stabbings were reported along my home and work corridor: two women in front of the W Hotel in Times Square, and a man on the platform at 50th/Rock Center. The man is in custody now, and when I got to the subway this morning on 103 and Central Park West, there was a film crew working as if nothing had happened.
Almost a year ago to the date, on my brother’s birthday, there had been a terrorist scare right in front of the office building, on Broadway and 50th. A tourist bus had to be unloaded completely while a SWAT team in full gear questioned innocent suspects. The Daily News dubbed it “Times Scare.”

FIFA… Hoes…YUM!

FIFA fever is in full effect. One of the joys of working for a French media company is that they are as crazy about the real “futbol” as the rest of us. We’ve got at least 3 TV’s hooked up to cable around the office, as if everybody chewing up the bandwith watching online weren’t enough.
On Sunday, Mexico beat Iran. It scored record ratings. You’d think I’d get a phone call from Dubya thanking us and offering to stop deporting my peoples, pero no, ni mierda.
Today, Brazil vs. Croatia. Oh to be a fly on the locker room wall, or better yet, one of the countless sex workers imported into Germany where prostitution is legal, under the leadership of a female president no less. If only all the ass-kicking TEAM USA is bound to get on the field would translate to the homeland psyche at large.

Don’t Want No Short Dick Man (Or do I?)

At work, the idea for a ringtone based on the old hip house novelty track, “Booty Call” came up. It was a video I was going to work on, but never go to. I did however make another equally stellar contribution to pop culture while in the trenches of Chicago’s no-budget casting game. In 1994 I spent a less than balmy day wrangling Gillette and posse in a warehouse and on a beach on the South Side (beats herding no-name bitch-slappin gansta rappers in deepest winter). At least the director, Gillette and I agreed on the lead, if not her outfits. Though notorious for my tumescent predilections, this babysitting assignment was purely coincidental and my own blooper cameo, ahem, wound up on the floor. Perhaps my cue to, as I have been considering, hang up my size queen tiara in hope that trading down the totem pole might snare me a more cuddly, devoted lover. Rumor has it they stray less and try harder, kinda like chunky boys. Either way, something’s gotta give and soon. Of the two men on my radar at the moment, the computer nerd in Jersey freaks if I don’t call back within the day, while all I want is sex (in Manhattan, thank you); and the dirty doctor is allergic to cuddling. In true Gemini fashion rather than make a decision and time for either I lose myself in work. Oh well…

Don’t Want No Short Dick Man (Or do I?)

At work, the idea for a ringtone based on the old hip house novelty track, “Booty Call” came up. It was a video I was going to work on, but never go to. I did however make another equally stellar contribution to pop culture while in the trenches of Chicago’s no-budget casting game. In 1994 I spent a less than balmy day wrangling Gillette and posse in a warehouse and on a beach on the South Side (beats herding no-name bitch-slappin gansta rappers in deepest winter). At least the director, Gillette and I agreed on the lead, if not her outfits. Though notorious for my tumescent predilections, this babysitting assignment was purely coincidental and my own blooper cameo, ahem, wound up on the floor. Perhaps my cue to, as I have been considering, hang up my size queen tiara in hope that trading down the totem pole might snare me a more cuddly, devoted lover. Rumor has it they stray less and try harder, kinda like chunky boys. Either way, something’s gotta give and soon. Of the two men on my radar at the moment, the computer nerd in Jersey freaks if I don’t call back within the day, while all I want is sex (in Manhattan, thank you); and the dirty doctor is allergic to cuddling. In true Gemini fashion rather than make a decision and time for either I lose myself in work. Oh well…