If you’re anything like me, you spend most of your time mentally retaliating against those who have wronged you. CVS. Chinese pandas. That homeless guy you bought a sandwich for at 7-11 only to have him look at you suspiciously and ask you, “What is this, ham?” before asking you to go back into the store and get him something else.
I hope you’re not like me, though, because then that would mean being stalked by Gawker. Check it out:
This is getting out of control. It’s to the point where I can’t even walk through the streets of New York City or sing an obscenely patriotic song without being spotted and reported to the Web media. It’s starting to get embarrassing. As you can see from the Gawker Stalker I posted above, NYC-ites saw not only me during my latest trip to the City, but also magician David Blaine, that guy who plays Ryan in (and writes for) “The Office”, and something called Julian Casablancas.
The Google tells me Casablancas was born on the same day as The Princess and is the lead singer for something called The Strokes, which, given my recent invitation to join the AARP, I find an insensitive name choice.
Still, I’m sure Casablancas is entitled to point his finger at photographers just as much as I’m entitled to drink Heineken and awkwardly hold a microphone. Gawker has come under fire this year for this “Stalker” segment, which some celebrities compare to paparazzi-like harassment while the New York-based blog defends it as light-hearted, citizen journalism.
Since I can’t make my own decisions without doing something I call “research”, I watched a yesterday of Jimmy Kimmel (who I hate for schtuping Sarah Silverman) lambasting Gawker co-editor Emily Gould on the YouTubes. I tried to balance both sides of the argument but I was distracted equally by Kimmel’s pompous attitude (did I mention he’s schtuping Jew goddess Sarah Silverman?) and Gould’s defiant good looks. I weighed the arguments and decided that Emily is prettier so I agree with her.
Nearly two years ago, The Princess and I spent a few days with my best friend Blue and his girlfriend BK Broiler in the City to celebrate the New Year. We were walking up Fifth Avenue (this one is an avenue, right Becca?) when we spotted Andrew McCarthy playing with his son.
We all looked at each other to confirm that, yes, this was the same dude who fell in love with a mannequin and acted like a dick toward Molly Ringwald. It was definitely him. I had my camera and my brazen attitude in tow, and was considering walking up to him and asking for some sort of affirmation and photographic evidence that WE SAW AN ACTOR!
I watched Andy (I feel like we’re on a first-name basis now) play with his son, happy with his privacy yet aware that four people were staring at him like vague fans often do. I realized he did not want to be disrupted. I imagined playing with my son, laughing, enjoying our time together, and having people invade my privacy. So we left him alone.
As we walked away, The Princess, sensing that I had wanted to approach him, turned to me and said, “It probably would have made his day.”
Maybe I should put Gawker on my speed dial.
Any post that allows me to think about schtuping Sarah Silverman is a welcome one…. And ’something called Julian Casablancas’ made me laugh out loud. I’m sure this is just one in a long line of stalkers you’ve had to deal with, Arjew.
It hasn’t gotten to George Harrison levels yet, so I’m lucky.
This would make so much more sense if I had any clue what Gawker was wouldn’t it?
Here you go.
We should all be so lucky.
[patiently awaiting the birth of Blawker Stalker, and leaving the joke open to anyone that wants to make it]
Is that some sort of amalgam of Blasian and Gawker? Awesome.
You ran home and posted that McCarthy sighting, didn’t you?
I had a similar experience with Woody Harrelson. Two feet in front of me, having lunch, but I just couldn’t bring myself to be “that girl,” the one who barges in on someone’s private time.
Believe me, I’ve seen many celebrities, but Andy McCarthy was the only one in NYC.
Ah much better thank you. Re: i-66’s comment, I was just introduced to the term Blewish (ie Lenny Kravitz) is that real or was someone yankin my chain?
Blewish would be a great group blog name for me and I-66. Better than Blasiewish, which is just convoluted and stupid.
UPDATE: The eloquent and mostly perceptive blogger sent me an e-mail accusing me of self-submitting to Gawker. This tells me two things: (1) that the idea of Gawker publishing a Stalker item some blogger submitted is less improbable than I realized, and (2) that my work of manufacturing the above-posted Gawker Stalker item, complete with a photo of me and description, was flawless. I even picked the right font, text size, and color scheme.
Let me make it clear: that is NOT a real Gawker Stalker item. I took a real one and cropped out the fourth person (someone I’ve never heard of) and put myself in.
I take WiB’s accusation in the spirit of a compliment. Thank you.
I once saw Sarah Silverman in NYC. She was riding my moustache on 8th Avenue. I asked her for a picture. She obliged.
Let’s see it, liar.
Wow. Your ego never ceases to amaze me.
Thank you. I am pretty amazing.
Are you kidding me? I didn’t even comment on it because the black in the Arjewtino item is darker than the black in the other items. It’s a small difference, but it’s easy to notice if you have 20/15 vision like me.
I thought there were visible differences. Maybe WiB’s computer screen isn’t as sharp as ours. Or maybe he doesn’t have freakishly amazing vision like you blasians.
[PS: the BL in Blawker is for Blog.]
I’m not gonna lie, I thought it looked kinda fake, too.
But I figured I had beaten you enough today. And you were helping me, so I let it slide.
I didn’t think it looked awful, just obvious enough that no one would mistake it for a real posting.
Your Photoshopping is impeccible, good sir! Also, Sarah Silverman could get it…with her pretty little politically-incorrect self. Damned shame she’s wasting her vagina on Jimmy Kimmel!
Best part is, it wasn’t Photoshop. I used SnagIt, greatest software I’ve ever used.
i wanted to believe…
Awesome, you’re talking like a native after only one lesson! I am really proud.
PS, don’t test me on DC knowledge. I will fail like JFK Jr. at the bar exam.
I also would have walked away from Andrew McCarthy. Not out of any sense of propriety, but because I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from saying something like, “So, uh, ‘Weekend At Bernie’s 2.’ Was that a contractual obligation thing, or did you actually think the script was good?”
I was going to say the thing about talking like a native New Yorker, but Becca beat me to it. Now all that’s left for you is to never be confused between Broadway and West Broadway, as it happens to some people.
True, I wasn’t paying much attention to the details. I was blinded by my incredulity that anyone, anywhere, would actually compliment that ’stache.
I figured out his secret plan, though. It is all revealed
I did a double take. Took closer scrutiny to see that it was all a bit of tomfoolery.
Sorry I can’t make it to your mustache party. I will be in NYC hoping to top your sighting. Maybe Anthony Michael Hall. Or that dude from Perfect Strangers. No, not that dude. The otherdude from Perfect Strangers.