“I Mean…What?!?” – Abe Gurko

Several weeks ago I did a piece called “Is Everybody High Line?” which talked about the much anticipated opening of the High Line, that lovely patch of park/stroll fest (whatever) that stretches from the Meatpacking District to the West Chelsea Gallery District. The sound alone sounds like the hippest channel on Earth. It surely is lovely, especially at night. But it’s much ado about little. Nothing has received more press than the High Line except maybe the passing of Michael Jackson. The pomp and circumstance around this clinking clanking clattering collection of collagenous junk was way over the top. It’s… Read More »

There’s nothing better than starting the day with a fresh pot of coffee, my 24-inch MAC (daddy) and all the news of the world. By the end of the first cup, I have read through the top stories of The New York Times, Huffington Post, and the New York Post (loves me my Page Six). Then I segue with my second cup through the Daily Beast, The Guardian, Style.com and a slew of blogs to get me ready for cup three, ’cause by then I have determined what item(s) annoyed me most and then start writing. Today, like every other… Read More »

Maybe I’ve been hiding under a rock lately…nope. Maybe I’ve been so consumed with work…nope. Maybe I’m so focused on living my life one day at a time…nope. Can’t quite put my finger on how I could have possibly missed the emergence of the newest category of celebrity…the Celebrity Gardener. Now, I lived in Los Angeles long enough to know that every celebrity has a gardener. But I didn’t realize that automatically made them Celebrity Gardeners. It doesn’t, right? So, how did that expression get coined? Especially here in New York  where we really don’t have gardens, for the most… Read More »

When did these tacky gifting suites enter the realm of fabulous? Who were/are these people that infiltrated the groovy backstage green rooms in order to display their sad wares? And when did real celebrities begin to frolic through free shit not minding that it becomes a press opportunity? When did fabulous go all wrong? Somewhere between the Golden Age of Hollywood and now, things have gotten cock-eyed. Press is no longer real press, and celebrities are no longer real celebrities, rather a bunch of schnorrers (Yiddish for moocher, as in Minnie the). Any schnook (Yiddish for stupid person) can be… Read More »

Now I’ve heard everything; indirectly comparing Madonna to Michael Jackson about her obsession with children. I kid you not, and I quote: “The children of the world are not safe, as long as Madonna’s midlife crisis rages unchecked.” This is from an article written by Andrea Peyser, the horrendous Republican that writes for the New York Post. (Granted, I should not read that rag, but Page Six…come on.)  Peyser continues to rip Madonna a new asshole for wanting to go to Africa and adopt another child, this time a little three-year-old girl named Mercy.  Excuse me, Andrea dear, but the… Read More »