We told you before how to make your pecs look ripped before getting all up in the club: rub yourself down with Preparation H! (It's the gayest thing we've seen straight men doing in a long time.) Today, a dermatologist and Rob the Bouncer discuss with Mike & Juliet this disturbing trend—and the potential side effects of the hemorrhoid cream's off-label use.
Anthony Martignetti, proprietor of the Douchebag Restaurant Hall of Fame contender Bar Martignetti, is contemplating opening another restaurant. He tells New York "I had a breakfast meeting at Pastis with a real-estate broker. We're looking at a couple of spots downtown [for a new restaurant] — I can't really say until we sign the lease. Pastis is very close to one of them we're looking at." BLAARG!!!
Is there a Lifetime Achievement Award for Animal Sex Coverage? The Times is totally going to win it. Last two weeks, we've had horse sex, duck dicks and now frogs doing it. The latest, coyly titled "Frogs Go Bump in the Night," comes courtesy Ann Raver, who's clearly spent too much time in the Garden. Raver is taken into the froggy slutfest by Mr. Noonan, an "amateur naturalist," (he goes nude but not for money?) and his friend Norman Barker, a medical photographer.
AppleInsider reports today that Apple will be opening its third New York store at 401 W. 14th Street, on the corner of 14th and 9th. That corner was the former home to both cheapo supermarket Western Beef (a favorite of firemen!) and recently relocated restaurant Markt (a favorite of cheap Belgians!). The space reportedly goes for "$5 million to $6 million a year." (With Apple's 2nd quarter profit growth of 88%, that's chump change.) Speaking of chumps, the news bodes well for MePa revelers who now can go check their Facebook messages after a long night of Jaeger shots and constant yelling. —Josh
A recent spate of Victorian sitting room-style clubs is mucking with the ironic lifestyle-recycling of eras past. The latest example—after the Bowery Hotel, Freeman's, and Beatrice Inn—is the soon-to-open Norwood, a London-style private club to open this summer. As New York magazine's Geoffrey Gray reports,
The latest salvo in the McNally Gansevoort wars have a distinctly Imperious look. A tipster sends in this photograph from the door of McNally's Meatpacking mecca Pastis. Yes, some irony: McNally is the Englishman who could be said to have colonized the Meatpacking district from its backwoods butcher days to the assfest it is today. But that doesn't stop him from step up his campaign against the Hotel Gansevoort and its sail-sized billboard. It also doesn't make him wrong.
As Amy Sacco either A) fades into middle age and social irrelevance (soon she'll be just a Wikipedia stub) or B) plans a second legendary take-over of the world of nightlife, her underlings are graduating from beneath her. One underlord in particular, the "irrepressible" Bungalow 8 doorman Armin Amiri—protector of the realm and accused bruiser of p(r)etty boy Fabian Basabe—is set to open his own spot, called Socialista. It will apparently juxtapose Castro kitsch with Veblenian conspicuous consumption, down at Jane and the West Side Highway. "I believe in a healthy balance of capitalism and a socialism," he tells Spencer Morgan. So chin up, Amy Sacco—in case you ever need it, surely there's a dacha for your dotage in the offing.
A peace conference is planned for Tuesday between restaurateur Keith McNally and Gansevoort Hotel owner Michael Achenbaum, to settle the dispute over the Gansevoort's giant Meatpacking billboard, according to Page Six. Achenbaum's condition for the meeting is that none of the local restaurant folk yell at him. We say, good fucking luck with that.
It's pricey, trendy, and rife with ready-made puns (all of which are too cheap, even for us). It s also dead on the inside and will steal your soul if you look directly at it. Few neighborhoods have undergone the type of unnatural beautification of the Meatpacking District, so horrific and faux that it would make Tara Reid's nipple blush. Join Gawker's Andrew Krucoff and photographer Nikola Tamindzic in a photo walking tour of a Friday night in the Meatpacking District, where they soak in the Gaslight and let everyone else show us how it all hangs it out.