The first time "Misty" broke into the backyard to pound and scream at the bedroom window, the police handcuffed her and said—her face pressed to the hood of the idling black and white—that she was not to return. I figured we would never see her again after that early morning in 2012. But the next night, around 1 a.m., I was in bed with my new boyfriend, "Scott," and we heard the bedroom door slowly crack open. Scott jumped up. "No! You can’t be here!" he shouted, all high-pitched.
At the end of this calendar year, our second restraining order against Misty expires. The Misty saga (this is the truncated [...]
A man was taken to the hospital after getting shot in the buttocks at work in a South Florida pawn shop.
At about 6:30 p.m. Tuesday, an employee of David Bari’s Pawn shop on State Road 7 in Margate stepped out, leaving his semiautomatic Glock .40 caliber gun on top of a counter. Another employee saw the weapon and thinking it was a store item, picked it up to place it in the showcase.
The gun went off while the employee was handling it and a third employee happened to be in the line of fire.
"He had already told me a lunatic story about meeting a hooker who knew a gay porn actor who did security for Christina Aguilera and had knowledge of a transvestite that a Yankees star kept in an apartment on Central Park South. The gay porn actor also happened to be diddling a Hollywood director. Via this most exotic of connections, Howie claimed to have had a few conversations with the director, who had put him in touch with his agent at Creative Artists Agency. The agent stopped taking Howie's calls within the week." —It doesn't take long in the endlessly sordid tale of the life of Howard Spira [...]
"My sleepy mind slowly whirred to life and I scanned for reasons that a random stranger would offer me, a young and seemingly able-bodied person, her seat on a packed downtown 2 train at rush hour. If I were her I’d have clung to that choice seat so hard, someone would have to roll in with an iron lung before I would consider getting up. And even then I’d be real pissy about it, rolling my eyes and such. Then again, I am a terrible person, and maybe this girl was not. Maybe she was being sweet because I looked exhausted?" OH NO GIRL, THAT IS NOT WHY.
We can't really do any better than this, from The Brooklyn Paper. "A cat-loving Cobble Hill man whose valiant effort to save a lost feline last year was misinterpreted as the rantings of a crazy person has sued the hospital that medicated him in a way 'normally reserved for violent psychiatric patients.'" Oh? DO GO ON. "Mild-mannered Chris Muth was cat-sitting when he realized the pussy had plunged down a 30-foot shaft and was trapped. That's when Muth became a man consumed, a man who cared more for felines than his fellow man, he became… the Cat Man." Sure! AND THEN WHAT HAPPENED? "Cat Man barged into an unoccupied [...]