Check it, Peons: Your CNN Humiliation Compartmentalized

Friday, February 27, 2009

SPURNED LOVERS' WEDDING ALBUM


If you missed the last Mama D's Arts Bordello, and want to see photographic evidence of our doomed wedding, head over to Mama D's Facebook page and flip through our wedding album. For those of you who were at the show...you might even find yourself lurking in there. It's the first of three albums, so keep checking back for more!

MAMA D'S ARTS BORDELLO

Thursday, February 26, 2009

BOBBIE BATTISTA RESURFACES


I'm back!
Sorry for the lack of posts last week. The only internet access I had was at the Hyatt's business center, which was overpriced just like everything else in that fucking place. I love Peon Confidential, but not that much.
Now-
Since my jaunt to the nation's capital also involved seeing a few CNN refugees, I thought we'd dig back to our Peon roots here and give you an update on...Bobbie Battista! I must tell you, I had no idea the woman had such a great sense of humor.
Check it:
THE ONION NEWS NETWORK

Thursday, February 19, 2009

MAMA D'S ARTS BORDELLO PRESENTS: SPURNED LOVERS


Tonight is the night!

Did cupid miss his target? Did Valentine's Day find you in Charlie Brown's shoes? Did you get the shitty, cheap Duane Reade chocolate and eat it anyway?
Well, on February 19th, we're commiserating together at the Bordello. Come enjoy stories of love gone awry from Naturi Thomas and Daniel Guzman, songs of heartache from Carolyn Ritter and Mike Rutberg, a short film about spurned lovers, the Celebrity Heartbreak Trivia Contest and sexy dancers shaking their asses to chase the unrequited lover's blues away.

Just $5 gets you inside the bordello for a sleazy, crazy, boozy good time.

DATE: Thursday, February 19th
TIME: 8pm
PLACE: The Parkside Lounge
ADDRESS: 317 E. Houston (between Aves. B and C)
SUBWAY: V, F

PARKSIDE LOUNGE

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

MR. PEANUT IS GONNA GIT YA!


Okay.
Call me an insensitive bitch. Go ahead, I won't correct you. But check this out:

ATLANTA, Georgia (CNN) -- The return of peanuts to the snack menu at Northwest Airlines this month has prompted a spasm of protests from travelers with allergies.
The change comes four months after Northwest merged with Atlanta-based Delta Air Lines and in the midst of a national salmonella outbreak involving Peanut Corporation of America. In Minneapolis, where Northwest is based, news of the change has resulted in a flood of responses on the Web site of the Star Tribune, a local newspaper.
"This is a very disappointing development," wrote one man who responded to the story. "My wife's allergy is so severe that if someone is sitting next to her and eating peanuts, the odor is enough to trigger an allergic reaction."
"Northwest is really out of touch with its customers and the reality of allergies to peanuts," wrote another reader. "What's wrong with pretzels?"
The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention says more than 3 million Americans are allergic to peanuts or tree nuts.
Delta says it will make accommodations for those with peanut allergies, if a request is made.
"We'll create a buffer zone of three rows in front of and three rows behind your seat," the airline's Web site says.


My question is this:
When the fuck did everyone start having such a problem with peanuts? When did these insane allergies descend upon us?

When I was a kid, no one had peanut allergies. No one. Kids across the lunch room opened up their Scooby Doo and Garfield lunch boxes and happily munched on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (on white bread, with the grape jelly seeping though like a wound.) Now just the threat of being near a peanut prompts an airline quarantine.

When I was a kid, no one had to make sure they didn't get peanut M&Ms on Halloween. No, our concern was the threat of some creep putting razor blades in apples or handing out Ex-Lax instead of chocolate. Our parents had heard about this on the nightly news. Of course, this never actually happened to anyone we knew.

And I'm starting to wonder if peanut allergies are the new nightly news boogeyman.

Monday, February 16, 2009

POVERTY: HITTING BELOW THE BELT


Yet another hard-hitting Peon Confidential analysis of the economic crisis for you today...

NEW YORK (Reuters) – It's crippling for businesses but the credit crisis is giving Cupid a boost as more people hunt online for mates to weather the economic storm.
Unlike other companies where revenues are dropping and layoffs are climbing, online dating seems to be resistant to the recession.
"In a tough economy, you want someone to appreciate you for who you are and not because of your jobs or material possessions," said eHarmony chief executive Greg Waldorf.

Translation: When people are broke, they want someone to fuck who they don't have to spend money on.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

AN ELEGY FOR A BACHELOR PAD


Yet another casualty of the shitty economy:
No more sexy bachelor pads like this. No more swanky rotating beds, fully stocked bars, sexy chrome fixtures and love-makin' tunes blaring from the hi-fi.
These days, it's a cheap futon, a DIY entertainment center from Target (with one nail rammed too far in, causing the particle board to burst) sports posters on the walls and last week's Chinese takeout and two beers in the fridge.

It's a wonder anyone gets laid at all.

Monday, February 02, 2009

HOT DIGGITY DOG!


So-
This is thoroughly vile:

CASABLANCA (AFP) – Taking things a little too literally, a Moroccan man was jailed for six years for selling customers dog meat instead of beef, a judicial source said Friday.
The man, who admitted mixing the dog meat with chemicals to conceal the different smell and colour, was also made to pay a fine of 10,000 dirhams (900 euros, 1,185 dollars).


But it got me to thinking about the couple of instances where I have been absurdly drunk, and thought it was a good time to purchase a hot dog from a street vendor. Now, I know that "Law and Order" would have viewers believe that lawyers eat that shit every day--but this is a heinous lie. The only time locals ever eat a street vendor hot dog is when they are drunk. And not just buzzed, I mean bumping into the walls, singing into a beer bottle, arguing with/fucking the bartender plastered.
The only saving grace is that the next morning, you usually have little recollection of the whole disgusting culinary experience.

Except for the last time I did this. It was two thirty in the morning, and I was out with a pal. She could barely eat one bite, while I wolfed mine down. Afterwards, she told me the vendor had dirt caked under his fingernails. While I'd say she could have given me a heads up before I ate the dog, in the condition I was in, I doubt it would have mattered.

A few days later, I was late for work, and just pulled out the same dress I'd worn out a few nights before. I was in a rush, and did not notice until I was well on my way to 6th avenue that there was hot dog...slime all over the tit section of this dress. So I didn't just scarf that filthy crap down--I did it with a FLOURISH!

I haven't eaten another one since.