Time Was . . .

. . . you could be an “arrogant” mayor in New York. Maybe no longer. This criticism seems to be a trend, what with the congestion pricing debacle, that third term thingy, mayoral control of schools and now apparently the DC37 Thompson endorsement:

“He’s arrogant, too arrogant,” said Robert Ajaye, president of Local 2627, which represents data processors, some of whom are facing possible layoffs.

I Pooped Twice Today

In the Bronx Supreme Court lobby. Not one, but two piles, no witnesses:

Authorities were disgusted to find two piles of human waste on the carpet in the lobby of Bronx Supreme Court around noon.

. . .

The incident immediately became part of the rich courthouse lore, taking its place among colorful tales of a woman who set dozens of toilet paper rolls on fire, a woman who stood at the entrance for days holding a spear and shield, and the visitor who tried to smuggle in a parrot.

All The Wrong People Are Winning The Lottery

Dude, you’ll get more chicks with a million dollars and your own apartment, but whatever:

Waquas Mazhar, 19, won the New York Millionaire scratch-off game but will keep bunking with his siblings at his parents’ Midwood, Brooklyn, house.

“I just don’t know yet what I’m going to do with the money,” said Mazhar. “I just know I want to help my family and I want to stay living with them.”

The Golden Days Of Coney Island

And to think they want to turn Coney Island into a giant mall when there is already such awesome excitement to be discovered there:

A capybara, the world’s largest rodent, is the victim of a daily assault of noise, cramped conditions and inhumane treatment — and spectators can witness it all for less than the price of a cup of coffee.

. . .

On a hot Saturday night in Coney Island last week, one young spectator was hardly impressed. “That’s not a rat. That just looks like a guinea pig,” the girl said, disappearing into a thick crowd.

It Could Be That . . . Or It Could Also Just Mean That Many In Their 20s And 30s Are Getting Too Fat For Their Skinny Jeans

Guy Trebay, keep your filthy hands off my beer gut:

Too pronounced to be blamed on the slouchy cut of a T-shirt, too modest in size to be termed a proper beer gut, developed too young to come under the heading of a paunch, the Ralph Kramden is everywhere to be seen lately, or at least it is in the vicinity of the Brooklyn Flea in Fort Greene, the McCarren Park Greenmarket and pretty much any place one is apt to encounter fans of Grizzly Bear.

What the trucker cap and wallet chain were to hipsters of a moment ago, the Kramden is to what my colleague Mike Albo refers to as the “coolios” of now. Leading with a belly is a male privilege of long standing, of course, a symbol of prosperity in most cultures and of freedom from anxieties about body image that have plagued women since Eve.

Grand Unifying Theory about Obama-era contrarianism at the link . . .