Rumblings: The Monday Morning Shit List

>>> Perhaps, now, in the anxious gentle promise of Monday morning, as the good people of the world go about their business and you do, too, perhaps now you can admit that you have regrets. Regrets that run deep. Regrets for things you have done for which there is no conceivable excuse that logic can now carry in the cold light of day. Take, for instance, anyone who had anything to do with this double-wedding, lobby-clearing brawl at Society Hill Sheraton that left somebody’s uncle dead of a heart attack and, maybe, just maybe, a new bride swatted down with a police baton? [DN/PhillyConfidential]

>>> That is extreme, we know, and perhaps not exactly indicative of a real-life situation, the precise kind of darkness of the heart that most of us have to deal with, to keep at bay, from day to day. Like PhillyMag’s Victor Fiorillo, who hit the asshole trifecta on Friday, having already A) colluded with a certain incarcerated blogger earlier this year; B) sold out one of the most real-deal Philadelphia artists of the modern era via as corny a move as republishing Facebook photos; and now, C) taking the side of the lady-punching soon-to-be-non-cop and violating several no-no’s of the journalism game/victim’s rights in the process? When even the Chief of Police is saying, yes this is shameful bullshit? Oh, Victor. Oh, no. [CityPaper]

>>> Again, perhaps that is too specific. Too refined a piece of human darkness. OK, OK, we hear you. Can we just admit, then, City Councilman W. Wilson Goode Jr.‘s aide must be disabused of the notion that, difficulties of refinement to the contrary, that City Council is not a reality show, requiring behavior such as lady barfights and humblebragging about your lack of pubes? [BrianHickey]

BONUS ROUND: Or, maybe, on second thought, don’t. Perhaps this is our bread and circus. Perhaps we need things like this to remind us of the tightrope act that life is — how far there is to fall. Because most of us just do things like this: Writing a column thanking and heaping praise on your paper’s new editor, only to never once mention that editor’s name because deep down, you may be simply unable to share the spotlight. But it’s OK. Because you’re trying. We’re all trying our hardest. But alas, winter is coming. [PGN]

  • Amarikah

    By couching her story in “I’m telling you this because I need an attorney,” Latrice inadvertently implies her councilman BF does not give enough of a crap about her to give her the number for the Philadelphia Bar Association.

  • http://twitter.com/ChaChaGina Cha Cha

    You guys are real morons.

  • philebrity

    For the record: Mr. Fiorillo’s wife has made her opinion known.