The Brooklyn Paper, as I have aggressively pointed out, has a talent for self-promotion, or better put, "for making non-news sound like news." (Certainly, we don't want to deny talent.) Just minutes after our post yesterday, the Icky inbox received a comment form a rather familiar IP address (written with typical arrogance) listing the lusty conquests of the Brooklyn Paper. (Again, it's always nice to know folks are watching.) It was a veritable feast of link porn - boldly, baldly and badly detailing all those who frequently link to the Brooklyn Paper.
Suffice it to say, the comment will not be published. Yes, Virginia, good friends and blogs-that-are-more-news-centered-than-m
ine link to the BP, but I assure you, I personally will not be linking to the BP or Smartmom's Shill Shack anytime soon.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I've had my fun. I officially declare my spat with the Brooklyn Paper "boring." I will no longer post pictures of hotdogs and associate them with the BP. I will no longer make fun of third-person columns bejeweled with cutsey-poo misnomers. Hell, Icky won't even line Cool Cat's litter box with the BP anymore, will Icky?
We're through BP. Don't feel bad. It isn't you. It's me. Besides, this long-distance relationship thing was getting inconvenient ... having to walk all the way down to Park Slope to find your paper. It's okay. I know my neighborhood is a little too real for you. I read The Courier