What, exactly, makes a human being a "pixie"? Apparently, Cecil Suwal was "petite" and "bubbly."
And how did the "tax specialist" get "rejuvenated" — by going into the prostitution business?
[The] boss was Mark Brener, 62. He dealt with a stack of medical bills for his late wife by starting the escort service, an idea that dawned on him several years ago as he surveyed sex-related advertisements in the weekly newspaper The Village Voice....So there's your "rejuvenated." He dyed his hair and got a leather jacket — and entered the prostitution business.
The venture reinvigorated Mr. Brener. He dyed his hair black, donned a leather jacket and recruited three women to help him. The four seemingly had little in common beyond a desire for extra money and a willingness to earn it in alternative ways.
Then there's "Temeka Rachelle Lewis, 32, whom friends describe as a reserved and bookish graduate of the University of Virginia, scheduled meetings between willing young women and wealthy men." So you graduate from a fine college and you become a secretary... for a prostitution business?
The "clog-wearing nutritionist" — get it? Each member of the unlikely foursome in our new sit-com has a different kind of unlikeliness. This one, Tanya Hollander, has kitchen shelves that "brim with spices and herbs" and a table "strewn with grapefruit and books of holistic and organic recipes."
"I’d like to help people heal through food, to use food as medicine and to take the time to choose the right meals."The comic dialogue will practically write itself. She can be like Saffy on "AbFab."
Now why do these 4 mismatched characters come together in their ridiculous enterprise? The Times delves into the mystery:
For decades, studies have tracked the forces that drive people into prostitution. Few, though, have reviewed what, beyond money, propels someone toward a life as a pimp or a madam.What, beyond money.... I love that.
“We don’t know much about people who run brothels, massage parlors or escort agencies,” said Ronald Weitzer, a sociology professor at George Washington University who has written about the sex industry.Call up the expert and learn... we don't know much.
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27 comments:
Sounds like the plot to "Night Shift" with Henry Winkler as the accountant.
About two months ago the NYT ran another bizarre article about prostitution....and just published a big retraction...can't remember what it was about though.
I thought this post's title was the start of a joke, a la "A priest, a rabbi and an imam go into a bar...."
Turns out it was.
A life of crime.
The Odd Couples.
Meade's Monday To-do list:
...7. Collect and discard all the grapefuits strewn about the house.
"brim with spices and herbs"
Isn't that the usual state of kitchen shelves? To brim with kitchen items? Is it the idea that the shelves are brimming with spices and herbs, that there are so many of them that they're literally almost falling off the shelf? Or perhaps New York Times reporters don't actually have any spices and herbs in their kitchens, thus the presence of spices and herbs shelves in other people's kitchens seems notable.
I do like the image of a table "strewn with grapefruit". I can imagine this woman clomping home from the organic market and strewing the grapefruits all over her kitchen, perhaps causing some spices and herbs on a nearby shelf to tumble over the brim and onto the grapefruit-strewn, clog-dented floor. Maybe during her rampant grapefruit-strewing she will accidentally hit a hooker with one... in the grapefruits.
1932 subway ad from the NY Transit Museum:
Men! Are you tired? Do you lack vim and vigor?
Try Pimping. It'll rejuvenate you!
He, as a sophisticated and gracefully aging constipated gay man, does like the image of a table of "stewed prunes". I can imagine him gleefully prancing and dancing home from the organic market and stewing the organic prunes all over his new state-of-the-art designer luxury Manhattan townhouse with an appointed and flawlessly equipped kitchen with all stainless steel appliances and S & M tit clamps, perhaps causing some spicy photos of a cute hustler named Herb, on a nearby shelf (and held, to boot, by a small magnet to the fridge as a daily reminder of fun times past) to tumble over the brim and onto the stewed prune strewn, leather boot-dented floor. Maybe during his frequent temper tantrums and flaming flamboyant rages resulting in rampant stewed prune strewing, he will accidentally hit a hot-looking gay hustler with some hot prunes... in his hot little tushy. Go for it Palladian!!
Trumpit,
It's strange, but your deleted comment "This post has been removed by the author." is always better than any subsequent post.
I say quit while you're ahead.
I hardly see what makes the enterprise ridiculous beyond the fact that any illegal enterprise might be considered so.
Is that what we are saying?
If not, then how do we determine that it is ridiculous? Because they got caught? Are the various families of the Mafia in NYC ridiculous because, over the past 20 years, they have been busted time and again to near collapse? Does getting busted make it ridiculous?
We actually need to know a little bit more about the profits and how they ran the enterprise to brand it such.
By all accounts, they all seemed to approach the job quite sensibly in foregoing anything flashy.
Or maybe, we (meaning Ann) are really saying the people are ridiculous? So ordinary, so ugly, so ethnic, so not upscale. So very Queens or outer borough?
Ordinary people in the woodpile, to twist a formerly derogatory phrase to explain failure.
Palladian has already shown us a picture of his kitchen and it is small narrow and full to bursting with kitchen equipment, pots, pans, spices, herbs, ingredients and everything you would need if you enjoy cooking in New York City. I just mention that in passing as he can take care of himself both in and out of the kitchen.
Let’s keep a minimum of civility if you please. Attack a man’s ideas or politics or even his appearance, but please leave his kitchen out of it. Is nothing sacred?
Please. Tired. Just so tired. Please make it stop.
Legalize this stuff already. Sigh.
I didn't know you were a homophobe Trumpit. I should have guessed it though. Most leftwingers show themselves as such any time a gay person disagrees with their politics.
Interesting how they are potraying these whoremongers as normal everyday people. It must be because the john that got them in the newpapers was a progressive.
Humorless Sgt. Ted, why are you AWOL in Iraq? Ship out todoay or do hard time in the brig. I'll spring for a body bag for your unwanted return. Carry a radiation suit in case of nuclear attack. Your co-hater-in-arms, Chuck Heston, bit the dust yesterday. Now we can pry the gun from his cold, dead hands has he would have wanted. What a couple of tits on a boar you guys are!
A Trumpit post is always improved by the phrase "comment deleted".
I absolutely adore Palladian's 9:32 comment, especially the final paragraph.
***
Not even the lovely "tits on a boar" (I'm stealing that insult, just so you know) can make up for Troll Trumpits tendentious, tedious tendency to tripe.
Typical.
Hey! How come there's no picture of the guy--who after all is the mastermind--included with this article?
"He, as a sophisticated and gracefully aging..."
Thank you for recognizing that I'm a sophisticate. I'm not, however, aging gracefully. I am aging though: at my next birthday I'll be 33.
"...constipated..."
Quite regular, old chap. I do wonder at your seeming knowledge of and interest in, my bowel habits. Worry is probably a better word than wonder in this case.
"...gay man..."
A brilliant observation! You've found me out!
"...stewing the organic prunes all over his new state-of-the-art designer luxury Manhattan townhouse ..."
Well, if I ate prunes, I'm sure I wouldn't stew them all over my apartment. I'm pretty sure I'd only do the stewing in the kitchen.
Of course I wish I lived in a townhouse in Manhattan. But I don't live in either a townhouse or in Manhattan.
"...with an appointed and flawlessly equipped kitchen with all stainless steel appliances..."
Well, my kitchen is appointed. In fact, it's well appointed. It's also equipped, though not flawlessly. In fact I'll admit that it's both appointed and equipped just in case those two words don't actually have the same meaning. And I don't own any stainless steel appliances, though if you're offering, I'd like a Viking professional gas range, 30 inches wide.
"...and S & M tit clamps..."
Um, eww? I don't really know what those are, and I don't think I want to know. I'll defer to your expertise.
"...perhaps causing some spicy photos of a cute hustler..."
I don't know any hustlers, and I don't think, even if one did know and frequent hustlers, one would pin their pictures on the fridge.
"...named Herb..."
OK, now you've really lost me. No gay hustlers have ever been or ever will be named Herb.
"...onto the stewed prune strewn..."
Mmm, alliteration.
"...leather boot-dented floor..."
I haven't worn leather boots since high school, and those were Doc Martins and therefore didn't make dents, what with the "Bouncing Souls" and all...
"Maybe during his frequent temper tantrums and flaming flamboyant rages resulting in rampant stewed prune strewing"
When I actually lose my temper, I tend to strew my fists rather than prunes, but you seem to have a thing for desiccated plums so I'll allow you to follow this odd fancy.
"he will accidentally hit a hot-looking gay hustler with some hot prunes... in his hot little tushy."
The only funny part! Good job!
I have a question that may seem odd, but perhaps some of your readers know the answer: When the operators of a highly profitable prostitution ring such as the Emperor's 4 are caught, does the IRS delve into their income tax returns to see whether they have paid taxes on their ill-gotten gains? I've never seen any indication that such people are prosecuted for tax evasion, but I also find it hard to believe that they faithfully declare all their illegal income as is required by law. Is a conviction for tax evasion just considered "piling-on" ?
Actually if you stew prunes in a red wine reduction and serve with a dollop of mascarpone on the side it is quite an interesting desert. To be enjoyed with a delicious chilled muscato from Asti.
And Trumpit if you are entertaining a hustler named Herb; it is traditional to serve him peaches.
I do like the image of a table "strewn with grapefruit". I can imagine this woman clomping home from the organic market and strewing the grapefruits all over her kitchen,
You would do well not to mock the powers of citrus feng shui!
I read this article and thought it was hilarious.
I could do that for a job.
I would be good at it too.
"Bitch, that outfit is all wrong, you are doing royalty tonight, let's go shopping and get you something by Prada or Gucci".
"Bitch he wants anal, any warts I should know about?"
"Slut, your tit job is fabulous now go work it".
Could you imagine the interviews for these potential whores.
"Slut, we want someone able to swallow, any issues with swallowing?"
How's your gag reflex?
"I have 4 size dildos: large, extra large, xx large, and obscene does someone really put this in them. Could you please insert each one and give me a dirty little girl look while lipping your licks and fondling your nips".
"Show me your ass".
I would love being the HR Director.
I'm applying for my NSF grant fo' pimpin' studies...my Crystal budget alone will be most righteous...spinner rims, sapphire caps for m'grille, a Maybach...scienterrific research is a mf beotch! But like madame Curie, I'll go out big fo' science!
I can feel the Progressive love from Trumpit. I like when they show their oft touted tolerance and wish for peace and no war by wishing for my death in combat.
Die in a fire, homophobic Stalinist.
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