MSG digs dirt on Ranger cheerleader: we don’t know who’s right, but something smells fishy about MSG execs who’ve dug up a ton of dirt on Courtney Prince, ex-captain of the Ranger cheerleaders (for those of you who haven’t been to a hockey game lately--yes, they have cheeerleaders on skates, who do cute things like ride the Zamboni and, shovels in hand, scoop up ice near the net). Prince, you might remember, filed a sex harassment lawsuit again the Garden. Now MSG charges that Prince often talked about--gasp--sex with her fellow cheerleaders, including certain sex acts she wanted to perform with her boyfriend and “things her bodyfirend did not like to do.”
94 years Old & Homeless. The Brooklyn Paper, which often does harder-hitting stories than the gossip-heavy dailies, has a horrifying story about Dominck Diomede who has lived in Carroll Gardens who is being evicted because he doesn’t have a lease. He didn’t need one; he rented from his best friend. Now the long-dead friend’s grandkids want Diomede out because he pays only $500 rent.
Brooklyn tops Lonely Planet’s “best” life for ’07. Headscratcher of the week. Iconoclastic travel guide, The Lonely Planet, has picked Brooklyn as one of the “hottest” places to visit on earth. We have endured Brooklyn since 1979, and while we find many things here, uh, endearing, we find many other things about Brooklyn red-neckish. Like murder, for instance. Like the Park Slope Food Co-op. Like creepy landlords who evict 94-year-olds who always pay the rent. Like anything having to do with Borough President Marty Markowitz. Like hipper-than-thou trendoids who laughingly socialize with each other as the World Trade Center burns in the background (click to see photo and critique of Frank Rich’s famoust NYT article). Like 100-degree days and middle-of-the-night boom boxes on wheels, and pols who kiss anyone’s ass who’ll get them elected, and boring movies, and DUMBO becoming a millionaires enclave, and Little League organizations that force tens of thousand of kids to live in bench-dwelling misery each summer.
Yeah, this place is hotter’n a pepper sprout.