Advice columns are crap. The questions are either made up, or answered too late to be of any service to anyone. But they’re still popular, mostly because people get some voyeuristic rush out of reading about the problems of fictional characters or strangers. And usually, the advice is too earnest to be of any use. As bloggers, we understand every nuance of human interaction. So here’s our advice.
From Dear Prudence:
My live-in boyfriend and I have been together for more than four years. We are both in our late 20s, very much in love, best friends, and have an amazing time together—so much so that even grocery shopping is hilarious. We share the same goals and interests, and have challenging, engaging conversations. However, he doesn't bathe on a regular basis. And by that, I mean, he bathes every three weeks to once a month. I've tried to talk with him about his poor personal hygiene, but have made little headway. I've been blunt and angry, encouraging and sensitive, but, lately, I've mostly given up. On his side of the bed, our headboard and sheets have become stained with his body oils (imagine a used bag of french fries). I don't want to leave him, but I'm tired of it. I don't want to live with a dirty person for the rest of my life, and I don't want my kids growing up unbathed because their daddy refuses to. Could this be a personal-growth issue? What can I do?
What You Should Do:
Stop making up questions and sending them to Slate. CONTINUED »
Although we can’t always shake the nasty habit of writing in the royal we, occasionally one of our editors decides to shake off the cloak of anonymity to write a short, pithy statement long, rambling diatribe about a topic of their choice. Today, Debbie Newman is that editor.
Approximately two months into my tenure at Jossip, Anna Nicole Smith died. And the media reaction was immediate. The cruel jokes and sarcastic headlines started even before the official coroner's report was released, conceivably before the family had been contacted and before funeral arrangements had been made. Supposedly reputable press outlets salivated over the chance to publicly decry this woman – a gold digger but also a mother – only moments after learning that her death was either the result of an accidental drug overdose or suicide attempt.
Appalled by the immediate onslaught of insensitive headlines and the speed with which she was desecrated by the press, I found myself in the unlikely position of defending Smith.
A long time ago, in a kingdom not so far away, a young Jossip editrix named Corynne decided it might be fun to interview her gossip, media and PR peers in a semi-regular (and uncharacteristically earnest) feature she creatively entitled "Jossiping." In honor of our predecessor, we've decided to bring back the tradition, one informal sit-down at a time.
First up: Debbie Newman catches up with editor-turned blogger-turned author Nadine Haobsh.
For those of you who've been anywhere near the New York media scene these past few years, Nadine (almost) needs no introduction. The 27 year-old author of "Beauty Confidential" is, perhaps, best known as the reason employment contracts with media conglomerates now come with standard issue "No blogging" clauses.
Yesterday, we shared the first installment of results from the Facebook survey.
And while we imagine you were relieved to find out which type of profile picture is the absolute loseriest (For the record, it's "Pretentious hipsters staring off into space with an arts/contemplative stare!") we think you'll be even more interested in the responses to our open call for your craziest Facebook related anecdotes.
There were, in fact, so many amazing responses that we've spent hours compiling them! (Hours that, should, in retrospect, have been spent "reading the newspaper," "interviewing potential sources" and "otherwise doing our jobs.") In the end, it was so hard to pick and choose just a few that we decided to categorize all our favorites into 7 separate—but equally entertaining—groups.
Last week, we asked you about Facebook, and you obliged us by answering in droves. Over 4200 of you procrastinated long enough to fill out our survey, and we've spent the past few days rifling through your responses and laughing inappropriately at your anecdotal grievances.
And while we're not yet ready to present our selection of Best Write-In Answers (although that's coming soon!) we are prepared to divulge the remainder of our multiple choice findings. After the jump, find out what we already know about your "secretive" social networking ways.
Although we can’t seem to shake the nasty habit of writing in the royal we, occasionally one of our editors decides to shake off the cloak of anonymity to write a short, pithy statement long, rambling diatribe about a topic of their choice. Today, Debbie Newman is that editor.
Earlier today, we told you about a bogus Craigslist ad conservatively titled "I will blow you for genesis tickets." Based on convincing circumstantial evidence, we incorrectly inferred that the author of the post—and the tipster who alerted us to its existence—were likely one and the same, and concluded that whoever wrote the ad had a disconcerting affinity for crap 80's music and juvenile humor. As it turns out, we were only half right.
Thus, in an effort to restore our tipster's good, albeit anonymous, name, we snooped around and managed to uncover the identity of the real poster. [Ed: Or, if you want to be "technical" about it, said individual graciously stepped forward, unmasked himself of his own accord and allowed us to ask him some impertinent questions about the whole experience.]
But who is he? How does he really feel about Genesis? And, once and for all, is he ambiguously gay? We get up close and personal with the "intellectually lazy" prankster (whom we've cleverly nicknamed the "Genesissy") after the jump.
Although we can't seem to shake the nasty habit of writing in the royal we, occasionally one of our editors decides to shake off the cloak of anonymity to write a short, pithy statement long, rambling diatribe about a topic of their choice. Today, Debbie Newman is that editor.
Yesterday, Ben Smith of Politico wrote a longish, somewhat confusing article (provocatively titled "Clinton Campaign Kills Negative Story") detailing a glorified pissing contest between Hillary Clinton and GQ magazine. In said piece, ostensibly written in critique of agenda-driven journalism, the Clintons are depicted as calculating, evil and—worse still—analogous to Tom Cruise while GQ is portrayed as a spineless jellyfish,* who values self-preservation more than the basic principles of the First Amendment.
In other words, it's a completely subjective take on the importance of objectivity.
Exclusive:
After a year-long stint at Gatecrasher, gossip girl Laura Schreffler (right) is ditching the Daily Snooze in favor of a new gig as senior writer for OK! magazine, leaving the features managing editor (and intimidating Irishwoman) Orla Healy behind in favor of buxom Brit Sarah Ivens.
And with Schreffler originally slated to take a features position in the Daily News' Los Angeles bureau, some PR insiders are already whispering that some last minute "drama" and/or internal conflict was the cause for the split.
Schreffler is quick to dispel those rumors, however, insisting she left Orla and the Daily News on "great terms," and explaining "I just didn't feel that being a hard news reporter was the right move for me." (In which case, OK! magazine was definitely the way to go!)
Two weeks ago, we patted ourselves on the back for making it through yet another grueling Fashion Week, and swore we'd never, ever go to another pretentious clusterfuck where people are only there to be "seen" and everyone has that glassy-eyed "I'm looking for someone more important to talk to" stare.* Unfortunately, that's pretty much exactly how we would describe last night's New York magazine's Look Book party.
The shindig (thrown on the fifth floor of Bergdorf Goodman's) featured an open bar, miniature black-and-white cookies and the worst hair we've seen since 1985. Although the invitation specifically said that an RSVP was required, some people came that, like, did not RSVP. Fortunately for those people, there weren't any bitchy-looking girls with clipboards or refrigerator-sized bouncers, so the "exclusive" event quickly devolved into a bacchanalian free-for-all.**
It's no secret that the Emmy's really aren't our thing.
And since we've already listed our grievances and petitioned the organizers to add a few new categories to the awards show itself (i.e. "Biggest Overactor" "Campiest Dialogue" and, of course, an obligatory "I Think My Water Just Broke" montage) we figured it was also our self-appointed duty to come up with a few categories/awards that we'd like to see in next year's post-Emmy's coverage.
And with that in mind, we proudly present our compilation of the "Even More Superfluous Than The Emmy's Themselves" awards.
Our somewhat imaginative musings, after the jump.
In between sending back a plate of steamed veggies (because it has a "small dollop of sauce" in the middle) tersely informing us that "people should look cute all the time" and readily changing her designer "sunnies" (Zoe speak for "sunglasses") as easily as she changes her own name (lopping off the unglamorous sounding "Zoe Rosenzweig" in favor of the more ethnically neutral "Zoe") stylist to the stars Rachel Zoe opens up to New York Times Magazine writer Lynn Hirschberg and reminds us exactly why she epitomizes everything we hate.
And for those of you not interested in plowing through a six page profile piece about a vapid, soulless woman who's spent more on purses than you have on real estate, allow us to save you the trouble by providing you with a single paragraph that highlights the lengths of narcissism and food deprivation required for anyone whose life ambition could be aptly summarized as "inspire an entire nation of teenage girls to grow up to hate their bodies while making oodles of money."
Did you see? OK! magazine has relaunched its website! And, as often happens when we're talking about OK!, we seem to be having some trouble containing our enthusiasm! (And our completely superfluous exclamation points!)
However, after nearly two seconds of reading Folio's evaluation of the new site, we're already slightly suspicious. First off, we don't exactly agree with the writers' characterization of OK! as a "celebrity glossy wunderkind" (unless it should turn out that "wunderkind" is actually the German word for "crappy.")
It's been a busy past couple of days for political pundit Tucker Carlson. Between bragging about beating up a grabby gay in a men's bathroom stall, apologizing for it profusely and then totally trying to take it back, Carlson's been running around in circles as of late, trying to appease the throngs of knee-jerk liberals who apparently took his gay-bashing comments way out of context.
But what most people forget is that Tucker Carlson has been afflicted with incurable foot-in-mouth disease long before he was ever mentally "accosted" by a same-sex bathroom dweller. So in honor of his latest controversy, we've gone back into the archives of time (by which we mean past issues of Cable Quotables") and rounded up a sampling of some of his most memorable remarks in a segment we're calling, "Best Of The Bow-Tie: Tucker Carlson's Greatest Hits."
And if you think Carlson hates gays, you don't even want to get him started on how he feels about fat people. The complete list, after the jump.
Although we can’t always shake the nasty habit of writing in the royal we, occasionally one of our editors decides to shake off the cloak of anonymity to write a short, pithy statement long, rambling diatribe about a topic of their choice. Today, Debbie Newman is that editor.
The day after Anna Nicole Smith's death, there are still far more questions than there are answers. And so far, it's been largely a sticky mess of facts and fiction, as media outlets rush to scoop their competitors with the latest twist, newest take or most outlandish speculations as to the cause—and aftermath—of this sad story.
Naturally, the jokes have already begun, (when will TrimSpa get a new spokesperson? Perhaps Anna Nicole was smothered by her own massive mammary glands!) but right now, we're not even close to laughing. Because while we generally strive for an irreverent tone, we're simply not comfortable reporting this in a glib, patronizing sort of way.
As it turns out, not every story has a punchline, and though this one undeniably has a lot of tabloid fodder (what exactly happened? what drugs will they find in her system? what will happen to baby Dannielynn?) it seems important to remember that what happened yesterday was still a tragedy.
Editorial Director
