Happy Heller Day!

People, keep the essays coming. You have until July 6 to submit an essay and possibly win this here site. Instant blog cred! Woo!

Today I saw a bus that featured the following message instead of a route number (N4, H2, 34, etc):


So, uh, should I have been calling 911? Did a bus get hijacked and I missed the chance to play hero? What a bummer.


Man of the People My Ass

I've always hated it when elected officials take time off of their salaried positions to campiagn for other candidates. That's not what we hired them for. Take Mayor Fenty for instance. He has crisscrossed the country in support of Senator Obama's presidential ambitions.

Of course, it isn't fair to single out Mayor Fenty when so many other officials do the exact same thing. As long as its on their own dime.

Wait, Mayor Fenty is charging taxpayers $50,000 for these trips?

Oh, fuck you.

And, no, the $50,000 doesn't include time lost when Fenty is out serving Senator Obama instead of the city that elected him. And it doesn't count the hours lost when police officers were accompanying him in New Hampshire instead of putting "all hands on deck."

When Governors Kaine and O'Malley campaign, they have the common sense not to have their constituents foot the bill. Why isn't Fenty giving us the same courtesy.



I am so glad I can finally call Paul Pierce a champion.

KG and Ray Allen weren't bad either.



I am moving to Columbus, Ohio in a month. I'll write a sentimental post sometime in the future. In the meantime: ESSAY CONTEST.

Back in January, 2006, I took the reins of this blog from a Mr. James F. by writing a sweet essay about my hatred towards DC. I also included some links to some previous work from my old personal blog and my column at the American University newspaper.

(If you're interested, follow the link and click around to find a photo of me and some of my very early writing. My bi-weekly column started in September, 2004 and went weekly in 2005. It's not that great. Give me a break, I was in college. It was called The Rusty Nail. If you're so inclined, happy reading.)

So, if you want to take the reins of Why I Hate DC, send an essay and some writing samples (not required) to whyihatedc@gmail.com by July 6 at noon. And, yes, I am going to be an asshole about the due date. If you can't get shit done on time, then you can't blog.

The original essay contest rules are here and they still apply (except for the due date of course).

Good luck, ya'll. In the meantime, you still get another month of Rusty. My condolences.

(Image courtesy of the wonderful Columbus-area resident Natalie Dee.)


All Hell Breaking Loose

DCist summed it up best: "Cats and dogs living together!"

Ten thousand customers downtown have lost power. Metro Center and Dupont Circle are both closed. The city is falling apart.

You should be reading DCist all day for updates.

This is ridiculous.

At least we got that Ashanti viral video taken off the tubes!


Bad Ashanti

I know I don't have to tell you this because you already know, but Ashanti released a new album, The Declaration. The music video for her first single features Ashanti murdering an unfaithful lover. That's all well and good.

The surprisingly dark and gory viral video promoting the music video isn't.

You'd think someone would give Ashanti's people a heads up regarding all the murders in Ward 5 lately before releasing a video where people are being brutally stabbed Manson style in Washington, DC and having "Black Children Will Die" (!!!) written in blood on a bathroom wall.

The video can be found on Ashanti's record label's website. I'm loathe to link to them, so here's the video (and a hat tip) to Jezebel.

If you find the record label's site, this shows up after the offensive video is finished.

If you can't read it, it's a form that lets you e-murder a friend with your choice of weapon. You can even upload pictures to really bloody them up.

Keep it classy, Ashanti.

UPDATE: Thanks to Terri for sending me this:


If the Saying is True, I'm a Republican Now?

The saying in question is "A Democrat is a Republican who hasn't been mugged yet." That saying was a lot cuter before I got mugged 13 hours ago in front of my house.

I thought crime couldn't touch me in Friendship Heights. I guess I've been spoiled by living in Upper Northwest for so long.

Anyways, here's the story.

My roommate and I were walking from a friend's house after the Celtics game. We're almost home when an impeccably dressed (slim black shirt, nice jeans, fancy sandals) Hispanic kid (5'8", black spiky hair) wearing sunglasses puts his hands on our shoulders. I figured it was a lost drunk looking for directions home.

Then he shows us the barrel of a (presumably fake) handgun and tells us no sudden movements. Roommate puts his hands up and the mugger empties his pockets. I do the same. He grabs my wallet from my left pocket.

I won't let him touch my right pocket. It was part outrage and part selfishness. I'm on iPod number three and cell phone number three. I don't need this bullshit. I know they say to let the mugger get what they want so no one gets hurt, but, no. I am not going to allow myself to be victimized. And if he was willing to shoot me, he might be willing to shoot me even if I cooperate. It may have been stupid, but I feel better now for having taken a stand. Of course if I were dead it would have been a moot point.

So I tell him no. He tells me he isn't playing. He calls for his getaway driver who sprints out of a white, newish Nissan with Maryland tags. The second criminal has his face covered except for his eyes. He had a dark complexion, but couldn't tell if he was black or Hispanic.

There was a fair bit of pandemonium here so I decided to book it and sprint the ten yards to my house to call the cops.

I made it about 10 feet before falling over. Damn you, klutziness!

The mugger pounces on top of me and starts throwing punches. My four years of karate training come in handy and I block them. My roommate throws him off of me and the naranjas del mecanismo sprint towards their car and speed off towards Western Avenue. I call the police.

They got twenty bucks from my roommate. Three bucks from me. The mugger ran out of his fancy sandals and left them behind to be taken by the police as evidence. So, the whole experience was a net negative for them. Ha!

And, because it's DC, the first police car on the scene went to the wrong block. That was about as predictable as the sunrise.

To be fair, the police were excellent. They were courteous and attentive. There were also a lot of them. Fifteen minutes after calling for help, there were five police cars on our quiet little block. I declined the officers' offer of an ambulance ride from my defensive wounds (sprained thumb, bruised wrist) and they were on the scene for a good three hours.

The shit that bugs me is the stress that comes afterwards. When I was showering I thought the house was empty. When I heard noises downstairs I was convinced the muggers were back to finish the job. It was just a new roommate moving her stuff in. I hope I get over that.

Also, losing a driver's license and my two bank cards is bad news, but it's not the end of the world. Losing a Social Security card is something else entirely. My number will be on file in the Bethesda Criminal Underworld for the rest of my life and there's nothing I can do about it.

This sucks.


Well, We've Finally Lost the City

It's done. Over. We've gotten to the point where we can't drive through certain areas of the city in the name of crime prevention.

No, really. The police are going to require identification to drive through high crime areas in Ward 5. If you don't have a good enough reason to be there, you're not allowed in that part of the city. This is a disgrace. And it's so obviously unconstitutional that it blows the mind.

Just another demerit on the tarnished resumes of Interim Attorney General Peter Nickles and City Joke Cathy Lanier.

Enjoy your fascist police state, readers.


We Still Have LSS to Kick Around

After finally reading the writing on the wall, dead journalist walking Laura Sessions Stepp took the Washington Post's buyout offer. The long national nightmare was finally over.

Or was it?

A quick gander at today's Health section led me to a brand new Laura Sessions Stepp article. In typical LSS fashion, the story was about something that most alarmist news outlets had covered back in the 20th Century.

Freak dancing.

Oh for Pete's sake.

Stepp even admits to writing about freak dancing back when in 2001. So, why is it suddenly newsworthy? Because Dancing with the Stars is teaching young women (with preteen girls being specified) that there are different ways to dance sexy while still maintaining an air of mystery.

This is stupid. You know how it takes two to tango? Preteen girls can learn to tango all they want. They'll need a partner who needs to know how to dance as well. And I'm going to hypothesize that not too many preteen boys are that interested in learning how to tango or waltz.

The worst part is that Stepp is advocating physical education programs that teach "acceptably sexy" kinds of dancing (like swing). Swing dancing is acceptable. But teaching kids how to do the Electric Slide in step with "popular hip-hop songs" is not. The Electric Slide solves nothing. Isn't the point that kids want to dance with a specific partner and not a room full of people?

Actually, who cares what the point is. It's the Electric Fucking Slide. Why doesn't LSS go the whole nine yards and suggest the Macarena as a way for kids to rhythmically express themselves? No one should be doing The Electric Slide. Ever.


Killed a What Now?

My friends and I were sitting on the back of the H4 when a crazy person engaged us in conversation.

"You're all so young. I became an old man the first day I was in Vietnam. The first person I killed was a baby."

Seriously, what's the best response to this? We were all rendered speechless.

Suggestions in the comments are encouraged.