Manhattan Infidel

Representative Patrick Kennedy (D-RI) today ended weeks of speculation as to his exact reasons for giving up his seat in Congress and held a press conference on the steps of the Capitol Building.

“My father instilled in me a deep respect for public service, waitresses from Hooters and airbags.  It’s pretty simple in this respect.  After a great deal of soul-searching and self-reflection I have decided that a personal life is of greater value.  Emotional connections that are real and loving and personal just trump everything else.”

He then went on to describe the type of loving personal relationships he treasured.

“In my years here in Washington I have grown to value my relationships with the waitresses from Hooters who give me personal service if you know what I mean.  I value the deep bond I have formed with the guy who owns the liquor store by me. I cherish my relationship with the Nazi spy I’m in  love with.  All of these deep loving relationships would be jeopardized if I stayed in office.  This is why I am not running for reelection.  That and I would lose pretty badly.  I mean my opponent would wipe the floor with me.  I would be humbled more than New York Met fans were in 2009.  So those are the reasons I am resigning.  Personal relationships.  And I’d get my ass whipped in the election.”

Representative Kennedy also talked about the emotional toll his father’s last year of life took on him.

“I remember one of the last times I saw him he looked at me and said ‘Patrick, I want you to continue in the footsteps of my older brothers and I.’  I told him that I was drunk and the woman on my arm was a Nazi spy.  He was so proud.  I still get choked up thinking about it.”

Kennedy discussed what he planned to do with the time he had left in office.

“Strippers.  Lots and lots of strippers.  Let’s face it, being Congressman Patrick Kennedy will get me more lap dances than being a private citizen will.  I’ll miss it but it must be done.  Like I said, personal relationships and I’d lose the election pretty handily.”

Congressman Kennedy ended the press conference and was last seen driving his car into the reflecting pool in front of the Washington Monument.

As Night Train played in the background and scantily-clad women danced around a pole, New York Governor  David Paterson smoked a cigar and talked with the Manhattan Infidel.

“All this talk of a sex scandal in my administration is wetting my appetite so to speak” he said as he shoved a sizable tip down a dancer’s panties.  “Pay attention New Yorker’s.  I’m Governor and I just gave your tax money to a stripper.”

At the table with Governor Patterson were Senate Democratic Leader  John Sampson, The Reverend Floyd Flake,  Representative Gregory Meeks and Senate President Malcolm Smith.  They were dividing up what appeared to be hundreds of thousands of dollars of cash between them while puffing on illegal Cuban cigars.

“The Feds may have seized Aqueduct Racetrack’s records but we still have the cash baby.  We can’t be touched” the Reverend Flake said.

“I love the smell of money.  It smells like victory” John Sampson exclaimed as he picked up a pile of money in both arms.

In a corner of the room sitting alone was New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg who kept muttering “People shouldn’t smoke.  That’s just immoral” over and over.

Rep. Gregory Meeks picked up some cash and told Governor Paterson to give some to the strippers.

“Is that your wife dancing around the pole” he said.

“It sure is” declared Governor Paterson.  “We have an open relationship.”

I asked Governor Paterson about rumors of  “key parties” and secret rooms in the Executive Mansion where State Troopers have seen him engaged In Flagrante Delicto with other women.

“We have many closets in my mansion and I have been in every closet, if you catch my meaning.  Now, enough questions.  Where are the hookers!  Where’s my pimp coat?”

At the mention of prostitutes a man wearing black socks and nothing else ran into the room.

“It’s Client Number Nine” yelled everyone in the room.

“Am I too late for the hookers” asked former Governor Eliot Spitzer before jumping up on stage to fondle some of the dancers.

Having seen enough I stood up and ran for the exit.

“Where are you going?” asked the Governor.  “The party has just started.  I’m black.  I’m blind and I’m alive” he shouted to laughter from the room.

I almost knocked down the door in my hurry to leave.  I had to erase from my mind what I had just seen.  I had to get back to New York City where things were normal.  Well, relatively speaking that is.

It’s been exactly one year since I wrote my first post for Manhattan Infidel.  I remember sitting in front of my computer thinking “What should I write about?”, “I hope my blog is interesting”, “Pants are such an encumbrance to my personal freedom”, “Sex toys?  Why not?” and “Does a blog violate my parole?”  But most of all I worried that I would not have anything to write about.  Well 264 posts later the results are in.  I need not worry about that.

Since it is my one-year anniversary I’d like to open up the reader mailbag.

M.W. (though soon to be M.B) writes “Congratulations on one year of blogging.  Is it true?  Did you kill Connie’s husband?”

Don’t ask me about my business M.W. (though soon to be M.B.)

A.P. writes “Manhattan Infidel, I am honored and grateful that you have invited me to your home on the wedding day of your daughter.  And may their first child be a masculine child.”

Thank you A.P.  Just stop sleeping with the fishes.  It’s freaking us all out.

T.S. of Long Island City writes “Manhattan Infidel, I need a man with powerful friends.  I need a million dollars in cash.  I need, Manhattan Infidel all of those politicians you carry around in your pocket like so many nickels and dimes.”

And what is the interest for the Tattalgia family?

S.J.  writes “I frisked him.  He’s clean.  I frisked a thousand young punks.”

Enjoy your veal, S.J.  I’ll have a surprise for you when I get back from the bathroom.

King Shamus writes “Manhattan Infidel, you fingered Sonny for the Barzini people.”

King Shamus you got it all wrong.  I’m innocent.  I swear on the kids.

Jimmy the Hat writes “Barzini’s people chisel my territory and we do nothing about it.  Pretty soon there won’t be anyplace in Brooklyn that I can hang my hat.”

Try to be patient Jimmy the Hat.  After I make my move to Nevada you can break off from the Manhattan Infidel family and go off on your own.  After we make the move to Nevada.

Innominatus writes “Manhattan Infidel, why am I out?”

You’re not a wartime Consigliari, Innominatus.  Things could get rough with the move I’m making.

D.B. of Philadelphia writes “Now you listen to me Manhattan Infidel, you smooth talking son of a bitch.  Let me lay it on the line for you and your boss, whomever he is!  Johnny Fontaine will never get that movie!  I don’t care how many dago guinea wop greaseball  goombahs come out of the woodwork!’

I’m German-Irish.

Snarky Basterd writes “Leave the gun.  Take the cannoli.”

You’re a wise man, Snarky.

T.W. of Washington D.C. writes “What’s with all the new faces Manhattan Infidel?”

We’ll need em now.  After the hospital thing Sonny got mad.  We hit Bruno Tattaglia at four this morning.

Matt writes “Manhattan Infidel, I want you to take care of that son of a bitch right away.  Paulie sold out the old man, that stronz. I don’t want to see him no more.  I want you to make that first thing on your list, understand?”

Understood.

Ro writes “They shot Sonny in the causeway.  He’s dead.”

I want no inquiries made.   I want no acts of vengeance.  I want you to arrange a meeting with the heads of the five blogs.  This war stops now.

Wow.  That’s a lot of mail.  Here’s to a successful second year.

Manhattan Infidel.

Tiger Woods today met the press for the first time since the scandal broke involving his mistresses.  But before he spoke to everyone I was privileged to have a private sit down with the embattled golfer.

MI:  Tiger, I appreciate you talking with me.

TW:  Thank you.  My people have been telling me for weeks now that I needed to talk to the press and I figured what better place to start than with the Manhattan Infidel.

MI:  Well I’m flattered you chose me.  Why did you choose me by the way?

TW:  When I was in sex rehab all my fellow rehabbers kept raving about your site.  It’s very popular in sex addiction circles.

MI:  Umm, okay.  I don’t really know what to make of that.   Let’s talk about your stint in sex rehab.  How did that go?  What was a typical day in sex rehab for Tiger Woods?

TW:  We would awaken at 6 AM every morning and take very cold showers.  Then we’d spend a few hours watching old Army instructional films about venereal disease.  Then at 11 came the worst part.  We were forced to watch The View.  I tell you after an hour of Joy Behar and Whoopie Goldberg my ball sack would retreat into my chest cavity.

MI:  That sounds almost like cruel and unusual punishment.  Your world came crashing down when the sex scandal broke.  Any thoughts on that?

TW:  To tell you the truth it was all part of my long-term strategy.  You see I am not young anymore and I don’t know how many good years of golf I have left.  I want to plant the seeds for my post-golf career.  The sex scandal is part of this.  I was hoping for a while now that the scandal would break.

MI:  I’m not sure I understand.  You were hoping for a sex scandal?

TW:  Yes.  You see.  I want to break into politics.  I want to run for Governor.  And what says Governor more than a sex scandal.

MI:  That makes sense.

TW:  It was all a matter of finding the proper sex scandal for me.  I couldn’t do what Mark Sanford did.  I’m not into South American women.  Especially the ones with penises.  I’m not gay so that ruled out the McGreevey route.  So I decided to do the New York-Spitzer prostitute black socks thing.

MI:  Have you had any feedback from any States?

TW:  Oh sure.  About 15 have contacted me about running for Governor.

MI:  So it worked out after all.  A happy ending?

TW:  Happy ending all around.

MI:  What about your wife?  Tell me about her.

TW:  She has no penis.  Definitely 100% penis-free.

MI:  I meant she originally didn’t seem to be behind you.

TW:  No at first not.  But she realizes now that it was all for my career.  She’s going to be a good political wife.  If I ever have a sex scandal in the future she promises to stand right next to me at the press conference announcing my resignation.

MI:   I want to thank you for talking to me.  Any else you’d like to let your fans know before we close?

TW:  My wife has no penis.

MI:  You already mentioned that.  Anything else?

TW:  Phil Mickelson has a penis.

MI:  Goodbye.

TW:  Black socks.  Black socks and diapers.  Remember that.

MI:  I’m out of here.

The 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver, Canada have, for the most part, gone on without a hitch.  However, a new and troubling element is invading the Olympics.  Organizers have found themselves struggling to deal with a rash of Curling-related violence attributable to roving gangs of “Curling Hooligans.”

A family from Texas tells of the verbal abuse they had to suffer.

“I brought my wife and children to see the curling competition.  Everything was fine until these kids sat down behind us.  They were rough.  They were smoking and using foul language and they had tattoos that said ‘Curlers for Satan’ and ‘Death to noncurlers’ “ said the husband.  “The next thing I know a fight breaks out and someone gets stabbed.  My youngest son was so scared he thought he was at the VMAs.”

The entire world was shocked when the Chinese curling team was attacked on the ice by thugs in leather jackets brandishing chains who kept shouting “this is for the Na’vi” as they beat up the athletes. IOC President Jacques Rogge pleaded with the hooligans to stop.  Afterwards he told reporters that he was dismayed.  “I expect this level of violence at strip clubs packed with Pro Football players but not at the Olympics.”

Olympic organizers had to postpone further curling matches until the blood was mopped up.

The unprecedented level of violence in Curling perhaps has its roots in the early days of the game: Curling was invented in Scotland in the 16th Century as a way of beating up the English.

“It’s true” according to Roger Fergusson, proprietor of the Curling Museum in Dunblane,  Scotland.  “Back in those days entire towns were looking for ways to beat up the English.  We’d tell the Limeys to meet us at the pond for a traditional Scottish ritual.  Then we’d all take turns beating them up with sticks. Eventually the English found out what we were doing and we were forced to substitute rocks for the British.”

Psychiatrists blame the recent onslaught of Curling violence on a nihilistic world view.

“Let’s face it.  Curling brings out the worst in humanity.  These Curling hooligans have no values.  Nothing to believe in.  No hope.  Nothing to look forward to except more crotch photos of Lindsay Lohan” said one psychiatrist.

The IOC has threatened to remove Curling as an Olympic sport if the violence continues.

“We’ll just have to replace it with a sport people want to see, like pole dancing or watching David Hasselhoff trying to eat a cheeseburger when he’s drunk” said Rogge.

In the meantime security has been stepped up at the Olympics.  Guards have been issued tasers with strict orders to use them on hooligans and David Hasselhoff, “if he dares show his face.”

The Taliban’s second in command, Mullah Abdul Ghani Baradar has been captured.  Baradar, Mullar Omar’s military leader was seized in the tribal region of Pakistan while sitting in a McDonalds eating a bacon cheeseburger.  Baradar’s capture is the biggest prize of the war so far.

“Our intelligence was looking for ways to capture him and we figured what does a backward, militant Muslim who wants to turn back the clock to the 8th Century want most?  Then it hit us - McDonalds!” said a CIA operative involved in the operation.

After his capture Baradar was taken to a top secret CIA prison (the one in Karachi located at 15 Top Secret CIA Prison Drive.)  Baradar refused to talk until he was given access to a television so he could keep up with Lost.

“He’s a big Lost fanatic.  When we seized him he kept asking about John Locke - was he really dead - and about Claire - what virus has consumed her?” said an agent.  “Since we gave him that TV he has given us a treasure load of valuable information like the strength and  location of the Taliban military, the whereabouts of Osama Bin Ladin, Barry Bond’s steroid supplier, you  name it.”

News of the capture of Baradar has created a firestorm of protest in Hollywood.  Rallies were held throughout the City.

Danny Glover addressed one rally.

“The U.S. Government, the CIA and our military are engaging in systematic genocide against the peoples of Afghanistan and Pakistan.  The Taliban are not our enemy.  Our enemy is here.  Our enemies are Red State teabaggers who want to halt America’s march toward socialism.  All the Taliban want to do is redistribute the income.  I myself will not have my income redistributed since if it was I wouldn’t have the money to fly around the world talking about the merits of socialism.”

Whoopie Goldberg told the same rally that “what Mullah Baradar did with his goat was not rape-rape.”

During the Oscar ceremonies this year organizers are planning a “Free Mullah Baradar and Roman Polanski” moment of silence.

Meanwhile back in Afghanistan rumors continue to swirl that the United States has reached a deal with the Taliban that would end hostilities.  In return for the Taliban’s return to peaceful pursuits the U.S. will invest heavily in the infrastructure of that country.

As one Taliban leader said, “All we want is to live a pure Muslim life according to the Prophet, like they did in the 8th Century.  We can’t do that if our cell phones keep losing coverage and our blackberries cannot be synched with our email accounts because of our crappy Windows Vista laptops.  We would also  like the Executive Producers of Lost to come to Afghanistan and explain what exactly is going on! Virgins, text messages and Lost.  It’s what Islam is all about.”

Mullah Omar remains at large, though the most recent intelligence suggests he is hiding out in Ho-Ho-Kus, New Jersey as the lead singer of a local Journey cover band.

One of the benefits of blogging is it puts you in touch with people all over the globe (and not just the people who viewed my webcam for $4.95 a minute.)

While looking over the statistics for my site I noticed that on an average day, anywhere from 25% to 40% of my traffic comes from the Russian Federation.  Naturally this piqued my curiosity.  For the first six months of my blog I had no visitors from Russia.  Then I mentioned Putin in one of my posts.  And the visitors came.  This worried me.  Was Putin planning to assassinate me too?  That man on the street carrying the umbrella.  Why is he looking at me?  Could the umbrella be poison-tipped?  I decided to do some research.

According to the INS, a survey of new Russian immigrants found that 10% came to America for “religious freedom“, 13% emigrated to “follow in the footsteps of Yakof Smirnoff” and 77% came to America to “kill the Manhattan Infidel with a poison-tipped umbrella.”

This being New York City, there is a hot dog vendor on my street.  Today I asked him for a hot dog.

“We got no  hot dogs!‘ he told me in a thick Russian accent.

“Come on.  You’re a hot dog vendor.  It says ‘Hot Dogs $1.50.’  I want a hot dog” I said.

He eyed me suspiciously.  “We have no hot dogs.  Just sauerkraut and poison-tipped umbrellas.”  

He then grabbed an umbrella from his cart and chased me down Second Avenue.  He was just about to catch me when, fortunately, he was shot by the NYPD for carrying a plastic two-inch toy gun in his shirt pocket.  (Thank God for New York’s strict gun laws!)

I interviewed a local CIA operative who told me that the Agency was concerned about the recent influx in Russian assassins they have been tracking flying into JFK Airport.

“At first we thought they were here to assassinate the cast of Jersey Shore, though that may have been wishful thinking on our part” he said.

This being a capitalist country local businesses have been quick to pick up on the assassin market.  Many bars in Manhattan have started “Show us your poison-tipped umbrella get your second drink free” specials.

“Hey, a fella’s got to make a living.  And say what you will about assassins, they tip a lot better than college kids” said one bartender.

All of this has had the effect of making your humble blogger slightly paranoid. I have taken precautions. I don’t go out when it rains anymore.  I avoid Yakof Smirnoff.  I have sworn off hot dogs.

As I write this there is voicemail on my phone.  “Hello Manhattan Infidel.  This is Putin.  You mention me in blog I kill you.  Me and my army of assassins with poison-tipped umbrellas are coming to America. Sooner or later you’ll have to go out in the rain. There is no escape for you.  Your country is decadent and soft.  Oh, and can you get me tickets to see the Black Eyed Peas?  That Fergie is fergilicious!”

Note:  The Manhattan Infidel blog will be taking a short hiatus as he relocates to the Sahara Desert.

As our nation celebrates President’s Day, the day we honor such greats as John Tyler, Franklin Pierce, James Garfield, William Howard Taft and Lyndon Johnson, perhaps no President is as neglected as William Henry Harrison.

Harrison, our ninth President (March 4th, 1841-April 4th, 1841) and our first to die in office is our most neglected President, ranking lower in recognition surveys than the 1980-81 cast of Saturday Night Live.

At the William Henry Harrison Library in Ohio the Library is open but there are no visitors.

“It’s true” said the Director of the Library.  “No one ever comes in.  We had some kids come in last year but that was because they thought Harrison was the Harrison from the Beatles.  They asked me about the guitar solo on ‘While my Guitar Gently Weeps.’  I had to chase them out.  Besides, Eric Clapton played lead guitar on that song.”

Because of its lack of visitors, the William Henry Harrison Presidential Library is in danger of losing its funding.

“We don’t have many exhibits.  He only had one presidential paper - his inaugural address - and that is so long and boring no one bothers to read it.  We even tried lunchtime concerts to draw in crowds but everyone kept asking to hear ‘My Sweet Lord.’  Again, I had to keep telling them ‘Wrong Harrison!’ “

To avoid shutting its doors, the Library started a series of controversial publicity gimmicks.  First up - strippers.

“People today expect their elected leaders to have sex scandals so why not have strippers at the Library?  But that didn’t work out like we planned because people kept asking me if we were reenacting that scene from Magical Mystery Tour with the strippers.  How many times do I have to say ‘Wrong Harrison?’ ”

Accepting the inevitable, the William Henry Harrison Presidential Library closed for a month for renovations.  It reopened its doors as the George Harrison Library.  Hopes were high as the line to get in went around the block.

“Unfortunately the first guy to enter asked me if this library was dedicated to County Mayo-born IRA gunrunner George Harrison, who was indicted by the U.S. Government  in 1981 as part of ‘Operation Bushmill.’  It was then that to close the library again and reopen it as a Starbucks.”

The new Starbucks Presidential Library’s hours at 7 AM to 9 PM Monday through Saturday.  First-time customers get a free George Harrison CD.

Fresh off the heels of the introduction of the iPad, (it’s just like an iPod but bigger) Steve Jobs and Apple have announced their most ambitious device ever - the iEarth.

“It’s like an iPad, but it’s much much bigger” said Jobs at the press conference introducing the iEarth.

Starting on March 1st, the entire Earth will be flattened into one gigantic tablet and all people will be retrofitted with USB devices into their brains which will allow them to access their iTunes from anywhere on the planet.

“This is the greatest thing to ever happen to humanity, or as I like to call it, Apple-ity.  Just think of it.  No more war.   No more poverty.  No more scratching out a meaningless existence searching for food or sex.  From now on your only worry will be downloading your favorite songs from the iEarth directly to your brain.“

Jobs then described how he got the idea for the iEarth.

“I was at a conference and I noticed that some people were using Windows-based computers.  My adult life, if it has been about anything, has been about the desire to dominate the entire world.  Windows computers stand in the way of this.  So I had my best technicians device the iEarth.  And I had Bill Gates encased in cement.”

While many Apple lovers are enthusiastic about the new iEarth there has been some grumbling.  The new iEarth will not come with the full Snow Leopard operating system.  While the USB implants into people’s brains are mandatory, users must also subscribe to iTunes in order to use the new iEarth.  And perhaps most troubling for some users is the fact that there will still be no support for Java.

The mention of these criticisms seemed to sting  Jobs, who pulled his USB implant out of his head and said, “You humans vex me.  How long must I put up with you?”

All humans have three weeks to report to iEarth processing centers, where they will be flattened and fitted with implants while listening to the critically-acclaimed music of Feist.  Those asking about Java support will be executed.

“I believe that most humans will adjust to their new lives in the iEarth” said Jobs.  “And when that happens I can start on my next project, the iMilky Way.”

The controversy that erupted over Sarah Palin writing notes on her hand while addressing a tea party convention obscures the fact that so-called “hand notes” have a long history in American politics.

While today the smart, professorial politician prefers to use teleprompters, “in itself a sign of vastly superior intelligence”, according to Politico.com reporter Mike Allen, before the invention of the teleprompter politicians had two choices:  memorize their speech in its entirety or use crib notes.

A screen shot of JFK at his inauguration shows that he had writing of his hand.  Researchers have blown up that photo to reveal what it was:

1. Ask not what your country can do for you.
2. Must get Angie Dickinson out of Lincoln Bedroom before Jackie finds out.

Worried that he would forget his speech and concerned about his declining physical condition, FDR at his fourth inaugural wrote the following notes on his hand:

1. Keep speech brief…..passing through period of supreme test for our country
2. Just and honorable peace….strive for perfection
3. Stalin’s mustache is making me question my sexuality.  If only someone would invent disco.

During his campaign for the 1858 senatorial nomination in Illinois, future President Abraham Lincoln was known to write notes on both his hands.  Researchers at the Lincoln Library have provided palm prints of the notes he wrote during his debates:

1.  A house divided against itself cannot stand.
2. Either the opponents of slavery will arrest the further spread of it….or its advocates will push it forward.
3. Stephen A. Douglas is a short, fat doofus.  I can’t believe my wife used to like him.

Thomas Jefferson was a notorious hand note writer.  During his first inaugural address the following was written on his hand:

1. Declare a sincere consciousness that the task is above my talents, and that I approach it with those anxious and awful presentiments which the greatness of the charge and the weakness of my powers so justly inspire.
2. To you, then, gentlemen,  who are charged with the sovereign functions of legislation……..I look with encouragement for that guidance and support
3. Writing notes on my hand with a quill pen is very painful and bloody.  Reminder:  When I get back to Monticello invent ball point pen and sleep with more slaves.

So it seems, partisan controversy aside, that the hand note is a part of American politics. Even our current, professorial President has been known to use the hand note.  As he wrote on his hand during his inauguration:

1. Hope and change.  Hope and change.  Keep repeating.  Hope and change.
2. Keep smiling.  People won’t notice speech sucks
3. Remember: My  name is Barack not Barry.