I skipped the food-photos (yes, I DO skip food-photos) but a few weeks ago we ate at Vandaag, a new Dutch restaurant on 2nd Ave., and it was terrific. I recommend sitting at the bar: inspired genever and aquavit cocktails served by six-foot-three Dutchmen. Proost!
PS: The interior is as good-looking as the barkeep.
LA police have identified the owner of a trunk in which the mummified remains of a baby and a fetus were found.
What a story … my mind races to fill in the tragic details….
Investigators said Thursday the trunk belonged to Janet M. Barrie, who immigrated to the U.S. from Scotland in the mid-1920s.
She was the home nurse for a Los Angeles dentist and died in 1992, leaving behind a trunk filled with her belongings and the bodies of two infants wrapped in newspapers.
The trunk was found Aug. 17 in the basement of an apartment building.
Authorities have not determined a cause of death of the babies, one of which was newborn and the other a fetus of about 20 weeks.
Investigators tracked down relatives of Barrie in Canada and are awaiting DNA tests to determine how the babies may have been connected to her.
Hey everybody! It’s going to be ok — thanks to your kind words!
No Noras shall be shot in the head (no matter how annoying & klutzy she is)!
My arm shall receive medical attention!
Renter’s insurance shall be purchased!
Glenn Beck shall die in a freak water-skiing accident!
And puppies shall be rolypoly and adorable forever more, amen!
Also:
The reason I spilled the coffee is because my right shoulder/arm has been spazzing and going through periodic waves of paralysis; last week I could barely move for 24 hours because my back hurt so much. So I am probably fucked in much more profound and permanent ways than a broken computer.
YAY!
I’m fucked - but how fucked am I? (Advice requested)
Greetings from your neighborhood fuckwad. Nice to meet you. They call me Nora, aka the fucking klutz who doesn’t deserve nice things. (Excuse my fucks.)
I spilled iced coffee on my beautiful 1-year-old Macbook Pro two days ago (FUCK!!!!). Apple will charge $1240 to refurbish (double fuck!). Tekserve will charge $250 to clean it, nonrefundable, no guarantees it will work (fuck?).
Once they open it they’ll tell me what needs to be replaced. That will definitely include keyboard, possibly the Smartboard (about $900). There is a decent chance I will end up spending around $1240 through Tekserve, tho it could be less ($500-1000? who knows?). They warned me that if they end up having to replace a lot of parts it would be more expensive than Apple’s complete refurbishment because they have to buy parts at a higher cost.
If it matters, the coffee spilled in the upper right edge of the keyboard; it worked for 24 hours although the delete and return buttons and a few others did not. Then it stopped working completely. Now it sorta turns out but doens’t boot completely.
So my question is this: do I gamble on Tekserve ($250++)? Do I go with Apple ($1240)? Do I buy a new laptop for $1700 + tax (I work for a university & get the education discount)?
Do I shoot myself in the fucking head?
A girl could get stuff done here.
Barbie to intern at photographer Nick Knight's office
Duties will include:
chasing London Fashion Week show tickets for herself and the fashion team, sitting in on SHOWstudio.com brainstorming sessions, assisting on shoots, making studio visits to artists and designers, as well as doing the coffee run to Starbucks.
Confirms what I’ve long suspected about fashion internships. Even an insentient piece of plastic can do it!
Cee-lo “Fuck You” (Official Video)
In case you were worried the video wouldn’t live up to the song, Cee-lo knocks it outta the park.
Omg life anthem.
The sexiest office this city has ever known: the Campbell Apartment, hidden away in the southwest corner of Grand Central Station. It was leased by John Campbell, millionaire financier and original gangsta, from William K. Vanderbilt II in 1923. The office, inspired by a 13th-century Florentine palace, included an enormous faux fireplace where Campbell kept a steel safe (wonder what he had to hide), hand-painted plaster of Paris ceiling, an art collection worth more than $1 million, and “a Persian carpet that took up the entire floor and was said to have cost $300,000 at the time, or roughly $3.5 million today.” A butler named Stackhouse oversaw operations.
Something tells me Mr. Campbell didn’t get a lot of work done in this “office.” Can you imagine the late-night parties he held, fueled by cases of illegal French champagne and elegant little sniffs of, ahem, smelling salts?
After his death in 1957, the Apartment fell into disrepair and over the decades served as a storage closet, signalman’s office, and even a jail.
In 1999, it was renovated and opened as a bar. The cocktails and wine list are lousy but, my, what a view!
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The Great American Cooking Project