Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Five Things a Philly Cab Driver Will NOT Do

Taxi drivers are always high up on the list of things people complain about in their cities. Traffic is another. Even your moron friend from Thermopolis, Wyoming will shamelessly put his bumper-to-bumper 'nightmare' commute to Casper on the Yellowstone Highway just outside of Boysen Reservoir up against your I-95 fuck jam any day. "George Washington Breedge ain't nothin compared to the Route 20 Interchange in Shoshoni on a Fry-dee"

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

HOT JOB: Philly DMV Clerk

A new thing I'll be doing now (as a favor to all of you who have so little to do that you're actually reading this), is posting active job listings I find from all around the interwebs. 

Mainly these opportunities will center around Philly because I want to help my fellow, underemployed peeps in the Cradle of Liberty realize their full potential. But I'll also scope out a few left coast and midriff region gigs for the rest of my displaced posse across the land. You're welcome. Now read this, and then get back to work at your unsatisfying actual job.

Monday, May 13, 2013

Sitting Down With Liquor Store Thief & Unlicensed Pharmaceutical Salesman, Tay Tay Da'Quande

Joining me this afternoon for the Sit Down is local Philly personality and entrepreneur, Mr.Tay Tay Da'Quande. We only have a few minutes to speak with him since his picture was just broadcast on Good Day Philly this morning in connection with a brazen cognac and flavored rum robbery over Mother's Day weekend at South Street Fine Wine & Spirits. 

Tay Tay: Shit's gettin hot. PPD closing in fast. Whatchu wanna know?

CC: I understand you're in a rush Tay Tay, and I will certainly respect that. I think what most people would like to know is why you don't just pay for the alcohol with your drug sales earnings instead of stealing it every weekend from stores all over the city? 

Friday, May 10, 2013

Sitting Down with Trendy Neophyte Restaurateur & Avant-Garde Chef: Thad Paddington

I met Thad for the first time in a coffee shop below his South Philly loft. I found him draped over an antique velvet sofa wearing giant headphones, sipping home-brewed kombucha from a canteen and leafing through a Vanity Fair that was upside down. His corduroy blazer with elbow patches fit snugly over a faded tee with a necktie print. He saw me as soon as I parted the beaded curtains and walked in, but paused before removing his headphones and saying hello because as I later learned, an unreleased Atoms for Peace demo track was in its final minute.