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“If TV has taught me anything, it’s never the first suspect” Gogo Gowanus

UPDATE TO MY UPDATE: Just as I suspected. Per the Post:

Charges against a Brooklyn livery driver who was arrested in one rape and identified as a suspect in three other sex assaults are expected to be dropped after cops accepted his alibi and the real pervert struck again while the cabby was in jail, sources told The Post.

“They made a huge mistake and stopped my life for no reason,” William Giraldo told The Post.

Still, his ordeal may not be over — the 24-year-old faces the threat of deportation for overstaying his visa unless his recent marriage to a US citizen convinces a judge to let him stay…

Sources told The Post that cops decided his alibi was legit, and he’s no longer a suspect in any of the assaults.

But Giraldo didn’t walk free that day — he was taken to an immigration jail in New Jersey for having overstayed a one-year visa issued in 1999, when he emigrated from Colombia.

But he was released on $7,500 bond on July 13. Shortly afterward, he married his fiancée, Sondra. The wedding had originally been scheduled for June 8 — the day he was arraigned.

Sources said that although Giraldo might be deported because of his illegal status, his marriage to a American citizen could lead an immigration judge to cut him a break.

6/30 UPDATE: Yesterday, the NYPD announced that a June 25 rape, also in Sunset Park, matches the MO of at least three other attacks in the neighborhood since March. I have a very sick feeling in my gut about this. Why is William Giraldo (arraigned on what was to have been his wedding day) still at Rykers? Given the almost identical nature of the crimes, might not the victim have been mistaken in identifying Giraldo? It really fits into a pattern of now five attacks.

Not to be a pain here but do I have to be concerned when Ziggy licks me awake to take him out for an emergency pit stop at 3am? Because I’ve got this bad feeling—call it lack of trust—that the police may not necessarily have arrested the right guy.

First off, when i see “citywide manhunt” in the same sentence as “Dunkin’ Donuts,” my mind goes places: espesh when it’s in a Ray Kelly press conference. And when the law and order-loving New York Post is also dubious, my own doubts kind of mushroom.

The fact that the accused and his distraught fiance were supposed to be getting married in Florida on what turned out to be the day of his arraignment gives me a moment of pause. Although… it’s not entirely out of the realm of probability that a dude might relieve pre-wedding jitters by raping a complete stranger in their vestibule. Fine, I’ll give this one to the cops.

But, according to the Post…

But two men who reportedly got a look at the attacker in the first assault, on March 20 in Park Slope, say they don’t believe Giraldo was the man he saw.

“The guy they got ain’t the guy from here,” said a witness identified only as Ray, who insists he saw the perpetrator up close. “I’m 99 percent sure.”

He and another witness, Donald Harrington, said cops had still not asked them to view a lineup that includes Giraldo.

Also

All four victims viewed him in line-ups at the Brooklyn Special Victims Unit — but he was ID’ed only by Saturday’s rape victim.

Oh man, I don’t know. But I’m not convinced.  And while we’re here, how come rich alleged rapists trying to flee the country at the time of arrest get to live large while working stiff alleged rapists get stuck at Rykers?

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File under extremely inauspicious restaurant opening.

Less than a week after its grand opening, Park Slope’s new greek restaurant is shuttered: pending the apparent arraignment of its owner, Peter Livanos, on charges of hitting on his waitstaff.

Facts on the ground are still a bit sketchy but the eye-witness saw the owner getting led off in handcuffs by Brooklyn’s Finest, the 78th Precinct. And said witness heard the charge was ”sexual harassment of a waitress.” I didn’t even know that was a crime in Brooklyn.

Up until an hour ago, I was still trying to figure out the name of the place. It’s Faros, by the way. That lighthouse symbol thingy is apparently Greek for F. And F’d is what this place is if this shit is true.

I just looked him up on the internet and found this:

ELDERLY tenants of a landmarked Park Slope townhouse are living without heat – and enduring a hazardous demolition – while their landlord renovates the building. The five remaining residents of 598 Sixth St. – a tony Brownstone Brooklyn address near Prospect Park – have had ceilings collapse, windows shatter and foul-smelling liquid pour into their homes since the renovation began in July. Managing agent Peter Livanos gave tenants electric heaters to keep warm while his company, Rahi Associates LLC, converts the 12-unit building into 16 apartments. But tenants who are taking Livanos to Housing Court this month charge Livanos is trying to make them so miserable that they will leave their rent-stabilized apartments. 2005 NY Daily News article

How do you say Oy in Greek?

UPDATE

Per Here’s Park Slope, it was all just a big misunderstanding.

I just spoke with Livanos, and he told me that the reason for the police activity was “a misunderstanding with a lady.” He will need to go to court, but the restaurant will open this afternoon as usual, and will stay open.”

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She’s perfectly nice in real life but from her first FIPS rant, I have hated Bitchy Mom like poison.

It’s almost as profound as my irrational hatred of City Room’s Andy Newman and his tweets about his beloved hawk babies. As a bitch myself, I feel personally affronted because we have to maintain the bar (the proverbial one; not the literal one. Well, maybe that too). This broad lowers the tone, goddamn.

Even when I agree with the general premise, I feel disagreeable. To me, Bitchy Mom is just too much: too boorish, too unbearably judgy, too salacious AND too damn derivative to boot. Perhaps her worst sin of all is that she’s not very funny, just mean. She should be barred from using a photo of Nancy Botwin because she doesn’t deserve to be in her company, even if she is writing about Park Slope moms and their love of pot. I may have to light up one of my medicinal joints just to recover from writing this post.

Most of all, Bitchy Mom’s verbiage makes me “cray-cray.”

Words I never want to hear again: obvsies, totes, bitchez, probs, whatevs, shit-ay, preggers, resto (restaurant or rest of, depending), baber, bebe, bay-bay, Halloweenzies, oopsies, strollz (stroller) and so on and so forth.

I actually thought she didn’t exist for a while but was some imaginary alter-ego breeder cooked up by Erica over at FIPS. And yet, she has that incendiary appeal of Sarah Palin if she lived in greater Park Slope with her boyfriend and bebe.

Things other people have to say about BM:

  • Wow… you are the worst part of Fucked in Park Slope. I absolutely hate when you appear on my RSS feed.
  • Your opinions are beyond bitchy and move into uncharted realms of stupidity and self-involvement.
  • This writer’s style and observations are not up to the standards of this blog. Surely there’s a better writer out there to represent this point of view?
  • Wow. Chill with the language there, chick. Jesus.
  • Did you have to post that link? I’m going wash my eyes out with Clorox now.
  • A douchey, unfair, hyperbolic, poorly written and poorly reasoned post that no one likes because it’s not up to the usual standards of awesomeness that we come here to enjoy.
  • If you’re going to be a moron about this, at least get it straight.
  • This is a seriously lame and amateurish post. It’s honestly just bad writing and in poor taste and I’m actually someone who reads every post on this blog and cracks up at all of them, but you’ve managed to even offend me.
  • You’re stupid.
  • Lame, mean post. I’m all for Fucked, but not mean.
  • Bitchy Mom’s posts have consistently been over-reaching and trying too hard to sound, well, like Erica. Meh.

In fact, just about the only person who actually has anything nice to say about Bitchy Mom? Life coach/manny Anthony of Charismatic Kid who finds BM highlarious. Why am I not surprised?

And yet BM has moments of literary genius-ishness like some select good lines in her Weird Genderless Baby Killing My Buzz post:  ”fruit of their fucked up looms” and “At the tender ages of 5 and 2, Kio and Jazz (!?) are even more interested in gender studies than your now-lesbian college girlfriend” come to mind.

Because I’m a bitch and also I have nothing more urgent to report on this last day of freedom before school’s out for summer, I’ve decided to take an annotated look back at the selected works of Bitchy Mom.

BM’s inaugural post on the scourge (my word) of mini-bugaboos: Worthy subject but not well-executed.  Weird chip on shoulder against, uh, everybody. And poor proofreading skills.

So yesterday I took my kid to the park because I thought he could use a chance to run around after his escape into the bathroom wherein he stuck his hands up to his elbows in toilet water that still had pee in it.

So whatvever.

I went to that park on Berkeley between 4th and 5th Aves. Obvsies, I didn’t want to have to talk to any other moms, so I parked my stroller next to some nannies who i knew weren’t gonna even look at me let alone engange in conversation. One of the nannies’ toddlers had one of those little mini-strollers that they were pushing around. I swear, the sight of all those little kids pushing around those little strollers is enough to make me want to give it all up.

What is wrong with this kids in this neighborhood!? Even the babies are baby obsessed! Kids around here would rather push around a fucking stroller than play on a slide…I don’t get it!? But before I could properly process, I saw the horror of all motherfucking horrors: A MINI BUGABOO!!

This thing was being pushed around proudly all up and down the playground by some 3-year-old future overbearing mommy. I was so shocked and horrified, I needed to find out where someone could even buy one of these things, so I googled that shit the second I got home. And what I found was even more disturbing: some DIY HOW-TO GUIDE on Ohdeedoh on how to build your own mini goddamned Bugaboo.

GAG. ME.

Also, did you know the Danish word for END is SLUT. So like, there are hopscotch courses in Denmark and at the end it will just say SLUT. we should have that here. I know it doesn’t relate, but those parents need to be taught a lesson.

Middle-Aged MILF Breastfeeding In Public Post: Huh? This is not satire; this is a complex of some kind.

Dear Middle Aged MILF sitting next to me at the park:

Look, I breast feed too. I’m all for it. It’s great for the baby, less chance of your kid being fat later in life, WHATEV.  But you and I both know that the reason you have your boob out right now isn’t so that you can feed your what looks to be three year old. It’s so you can flash that hot dad over there a glimpse of your titties. Yeah, just lap it up. No one can judge you or call you a slut. EXCEPT ME!

I’m all for self righteous public breast feeding if the situation calls for it. A quiet corner of a public park? Fine. In the living room with a few good friends who don’t expect it? Hilarious. In a restaurant? FUCK NO. In front of a FILF daddy group? You’re a whore.

Wait what? Your kid is crying again five minutes later? Are you sure he isn’t just tired? Wants ice cream? Is upset cause that other kid took his water balloon?  NOPE, better whip out your boob again, just to make sure.

Also. While you might claim you are still breast feeding your kid so that he can get all those essential nutrients, I think you just want your boobs to stay that big. And girlfriend, I am right there with you. Breast is motherfucking (literally, duh) best.

Pregnant Lady Porn post. Most salacious and make-me-want-to-take-a-shower post ever.

If you’re preggers and wondering what batshit crazy thing to do today, recreate any one of these pics PUH-LEEZ. When I get accidentally knocked up (again) I’m going to force my husband (baby daddy) to pose with me JUST. LIKE. THIS:

Windsor Terrace Ballet Studio Goes Asshole (Vegan) post: When my mild distaste solidified into active dislike.

The Cynthia King Dance Studio on Prospect Ave is turning your kids into douche bags.

Cynthia, a former professional dancer, forces her students to wear cruelty free “vegan” shoes. This cray cray be-atch says that leather ballet slippers don’t “mesh with the beautiful passionate joy” she has for dancing.”

BARF.

You guys, I’M WORRIED. Does Cynthia have a sweat shop full of little tutu-wearing kids sewing silk to hardened tofu or woven wheat grass? OH WAIT, did I say tutu? My bad –– that shit ain’t allowed at Cynthia’s studio. Her students are required to wear leotards and tights only. Any kid that shows up different has to GTFO.

Don’t worry, things get whacker: Cynthia’s studio is decorated with elaborate costumes that dangle from the ceiling above the innocent children dancing below (souvenirs of former victims?)

Cynth explains, “I didn’t come from a normal, peaceful, fairy-tale life.”

OMG. BLACK SWAN ALERT.

Okay, I think I’m done.

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Good news for all you kid and rich people haters!

Any day now, you’re going to have the sidewalks, burger joints and bars of Brooklyn to yourself again. I know you are breathless in anticipation because, yes, it’s almost time for the annual exodus of affluent breeders and people with cars. We may say we love summer in the city but anybody who can will be jumping off this sinking ship like… Bruce Ratner and his rats.

Before you start hating me too much for my summer plans at my palatial summer estate, I just want you to know that I will never be able to afford to travel further than Sullivan County, NY again. Ever.

But while I’m poolside with Norman (who donned an extra small speedo this weekend in honor of gay pride this weekend) and my kid (who spent an hour on the pool jet, having discovered its joys when placed strategically), YOU lucky Brooklynites will have the joint to yourselves.

Let’s take a moment, shall we, to discuss all the great shit that I’m going to be missing out on in our great city this summer…

Okay, that’s all I’ve got at the mo’. Weigh in with your top five on what makes summer in the city so great.

And as an added bonus, I’m sending you off with my two new favorite road trip shots, which I came upon while malingering on this post for longer than was strictly required…

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As if the locals didn’t have enough to be pissed about when it comes to Bruce Ratner et al, now comes the news that an army of rats have been fanning out like a giant tsunami: infesting houses and backyards, eating peoples’ cars (insulation, anyway) and acting like rats.

Okay, that really is adding insult to injury.

Last Friday, 60 people who live in the area sat down together with City Council Member Letitia James and the Dean Street Block Association to share war stories. And holy rat shit, they had a lot to complain about. Descriptions ranged from a car catching on fire from food debris dragged into an engine by rats, garbage cans torn up, to kids unable to play in the Dean Street Playground, and rats landing on unwary folks hanging out on barca and chaise loungers inside their homes and while hanging in backyards.

Some notable quotes from Atlantic Yards Report:

“We don’t have a normal rat problem, we have a rat tsunami,” observed Dean Street resident Karen-Ida Scott.

“I now park in Park Slope,” recounted John Martinez (at right, speaking), aiming to save his car’s insulation from regular rat attacks. “If gets any further, I’ll have to take a cab to my car.”

“I’ve lived on Dean Street for 49 years; this is the worst I’ve ever seen it,” observed Rosa Cintron.

“I’m here since 1963; we never saw so many rats like this,” recounted Joe Pastore (left, speaking), a longtime resident of Dean Street who was relocated from the arena block. “I have seen big rats like cats eat right through the plastic bags.”

“I’ve never seen rats in Fort Greene,” commented Lucy Koteen, an Atlantic Yards opponent who was one of several Fort Greene residents (the rest not active in the opposition) at the meeting. Lately, she said, she’s seen rats the size of large squirrels.

I guess it should come as no big surprise that Forest City Ratfink doesn’t want to take responsibility for the rat epidemic. The city DOH says it will send out investigators to evaluate the sitch but seemed to place as much blame on area ressies as Forest Ratner.

By the way, the biggest rat of them all will be at his new Dune Road estate in Hampton Bays while the poor schlubs of Prospect Heights are meeting with exterminators and trying to find a parking spot in Park Slope.

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Kids N' Action: The Glamour Shot

I have no time for this blobbing shit today.

I have no time because it is the end of June, which for the parents of Brooklyn means an unending gauntlet of end-of-year events. The annual proverbial obstacle course is culminating for me today at the WORST place on earth: Kids N’ Action Hassidic Indoor Amusement Park in Borough Park, Brooklyn.

I defy you to find me a more disgusting place. This joint is more horrific than Chuck E. Cheese at the Atlantic Center Mall could ever dream of being. And that shithole is surely the 7th Circle of Hell.

Let’s put it this way… the last time we went, my pashas came down off the indoor slide smeared in barf from some kid who’d had issues 30 feet up. Evidently, the kosher hot dog prepared under the strict supervision of Rabbi Chaim Yishaya Fallack didn’t have THAT KID’S blessing.

I must go and get ready for another selfless afternoon of loving, intentional parenting. All for the future of the great U. S. of A, you ungrateful kid-frees wherever you are.

Actually, while I’m on the subject…

Were you there last summer when somebody’s sweetling took a crap in the Red Hook Pool?

Have you had any particularly egregious moments anywhere else in Brooklyn lately?

What is YOUR most odious family-friendly destination in the tri-state area?

Bring on the war stories. Show me YOUR worst.

 

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Looking for a new challenge for your kids this summer? A chance to get off the couch and make something of themselves? Well, there’s a new game in town for kids aged 3 through 13: life coaching with Anthony of Charismatic Kids. Yes, that’s right. And he’s based in our very own hotbed of kids in need of confidence-building and charisma training: Park Slope, Brooklyn.

I thought we had it all but I was wrong.

On Wednesday, FIPS wrote a post about a new city-wide POP-UP PIANO PROJECT including two located nearby, at Grand Army Plaza and the Prospect Park Carousel.

Which led to this exchange.

Which got my favorite tipster, Go Go, wondering: who the f*ck is THE CHARISMATIC KID?

Having an inkling that this might be good and with more time to burn than Capitalist Tool JakeTaylor, Go Go googled and came upon a treasure trove of videotaped advice on child-rearing and parenting with titles like “What is Supernanny Doing Wrong?” and “Unconditional Parenting vs. Organic Parenting.”

The dude has a book and a $499 ten-week private course during which you can expect…

For an entire semester, we come to your neighborhood and give your child a boost in top-notch superhuman life skills. Whether it’s teaching social skills and confidencecultivating successful entrepreneurial traitsemotional discipline training, we do it all.

But this program isn’t just made for your kids, we teach you how to consistently impart these skills onto your children each and every day.

Two hours of intense life coaching each week for two and a half months straight. At the end of the semester, we provide you with a detailed report of exercises given, progress over the past ten weeks, and how to continue to teach these skills throughout your child’s life.

We used to call it baby-sitting, I think. But this manny has raised the bar.

So I just emailed asking about whether he’d want to give my family a test run in exchange for all this good advertising he’s going to get.

“I’d like to send my two kids to you for a morning or afternoon of life coaching and do an interview wherein you coach me out of my bad ways. My daughter is 8 and my son is 13. I am the epitome of everything you condemn: disorganized, uninspired, willing to let my kids clock unconscionable numbers of hours on electronica so I can get shit done. Also, what are your usual rates?”

I can’t wait… because Anthony is a member of the Child Life Council. I don’t know what that is but I’m going to go check. Later. Also, “he is an Adult Life Coach, a Social Skills and Confidence Expert, a Children’s Gym Teacher, Karate Teacher, Sports Coach, and a Manny. He has more knowledge on teaching self-esteem and conversation to parents and children than anyone in the world.”

I kid you not. This guy’s either completely bonkers or a marketing genius or possibly both.

I’m still waiting on a response. I forgot to put in a subject line. Maybe that’s why. Or he’s busy coaching. Anyway, I’ll let you know how it goes. Also, if you’ve been coached by Anthony, please report in.

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Whoa!

It was better. I have nothing much more to say. Other than that I CANNOT BELIEVE the girl child is still hungry. It boggles the mind.

Dancing By Myself (no, not me)

He scared me. 14-year-old Civilian Air Patrolman Kid

Well, this is a new touch.

As it ever was.

She was selling a wedding day gift book called "Elope"

He ate the pig.

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Grizzly Manly Man Dad

Fine, I’m willing to concede there are a few. A Father’s Day gift for you deserving dads (and those who like to ogle you).

Our local Superman

Danielle's dude

This guy is HAWT

Jake Dobkin USED to live in Park Slope

Mohawked Daddy Dude

Fine, he lives in Hoboken but I needed a blonde

But for every one of those dudes above, there are 500 of these…

I'm Sorry, Dude

You, I'm Not Sorry About

 

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Poor little big guy (not mine)

Because some things NEVER change, I don’t see why I can’t just put up an annotated version of last year’s FIPS post without ever having to descend to the hell that is Park Slope’s 7th Avenue Heaven…

This guy will surely be there.

Last year’s journey:

I’m going with hell this year since it is easily 500 degrees in the center of 7th Ave at this very moment, surely an indicator of hades-like conditions. (Okay, not so hot this year; that’s an improvement)

I’m heading back out now that I’ve dropped off the beast, who is still panting pitifully to the beat of the keyboard clickety clacking. Had to carry him the last two blocks and he’s no lightweight. (NFW am I bringing that poorly-behaved beast this year!)

In defense of our street fair, it’s getting a lot better, which is to say that the ratio of local or cool stuff is way up from the days when it was only tube sock and sheet set purveyors. (I actually could use both; maybe I do have to go)

Love the black skull and cross-bones brooklyn t-shirts from ROCK STAR REVOLUTION. I buy a few every year. You part-time anarchists should appreciate them. (Still going.)

We love our skull and cross bones Brooklyn tees.

Love the old-school 35 mm dude with the cool pix of vanishing New York, especially because he thinks blogs are for phony-assed pansies.

Love CHRIS OWENS. Go Chris! Somebody, vote for this awesome guy for something, for god’s sakes. Oh crap, is he running against my girl Hope’s boy companion for “MALE” DISTRICT LEADER? Why DO we need gender-based district leaders and is there a tranny category? Wait, no. He’s running for Democratic State Committee. I don’t know what that even is but I’m going to vote for him. (I guess it’s safe to say that Anthony Weiner won’t be out waving this year! I think Chris Owens won, right? And my girl Hope Reichbach died too young this spring.)

My children did, of course, manage to zero in on the crap. I was importuned by the elder to buy the Chucky family boxed set, complete with cute little saws and knives. The younger is complaining at this very moment that we deprived her of some wooden frog she loved. She just left to get her new Ecuadoran wooden recorder, god help us. (Nothing’s changed here.)

And, finally, where else can you enjoy the stylings of old Journey songs in harmonic beatbox and song. That is what they call that spitty hip-hoppy bebop thing, right? Anyway, the Red States kept me more awake than Norah Jones with their awesome cheesefest. I don’t know if I love them or hate them. Both, I think. (I’m sure to find somebody to love for all the wrong reasons.)

The Red States

Okay, I’m actually kind of stoked. Here we go. Wish me luck.

 

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ewwwww

Are DILFs the four-leaf clovers of greater Park Slope?

I heard that when @effedparkslope and @amysohn went on a hunt recently, with Amy contending there would be dozens, they saw ONE! And that was iffy.

My friend Karen says she knows two but I’m not going to believe it until I see the documentation. And one’s a model/actor so I say that shouldn’t really count.

If I had the energy, I’d go down to Brooklyn Boulders because, really, that’s our best hope. If you know one, show me. Bring on your DILFs. I want some evidence that they exist (aside from my manly man)!

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Moving on from the lecherous to the profane…

Yesterday brought the news that Brooklyn lifelonger Robert Sayegh, a noted children’s book writer (that’s me snorting), got kicked off a flight at Detroit Metro Airport yesterday for a small “what the fuck” utterance and is considering suing for pain and suffering.

LMAO and Holy Shit, I better watch out. I’ve never thought of Detroit as a hotbed of political correctness but you live and learn.

“It wasn’t like I was screaming like a maniac,” he lamented.

According to the Detroit News, a flight attendant overheard Sayegh saying to a passenger next to him, “What’s taking so f—–g long to close the overheard compartments?” The plane taxied to the runway before returning to the terminal, where police boarded and escorted Sayegh off.

Per the NY Post,  Sayegh couldn’t believe it. ‘I’m like, “Are they throwing me off the plane? This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever been through in my life. It’s embarrassing.”

But possibly lucrative.

And somebody tell me he lives in Park Slope. Nope, Cobble Hill. Our loss. I’m with you, dude!

***BREAKING NEWS UPDATE***

Rob just emailed to confirm that he grew up and still lives in Cobble Hill (Park Slope’s loss: we still have Anthony Weiner and Lil Kim) and, more importantly, that HE IS NOT SUING the airline after all. Because a) he’s bigger than that and/or b) they’ve paid him off for his silence. Also, he’s a REAL writer so cut the shit out of the “noted” cross-outs.

Hey thanks for ur interest, no I don’t think I’m going to pursue a lawsuit. I figured I’d just let it go away. I said an inappropriate word and he acted inappropriately. (Editor’s Note: HE? the flight attendant was a dude?) Hopefully this will be a wake up call for the airlines to train their flight attendants better so they can differentiate a real threat and an annoyed passenger. I grew up and live in Cobble Hill. I’m actually coming out with a children’s book this summer, and my other novel  (The Dividing Line) was just signed to an LOI. (Editor’s Note: Letter of Intent?) With Waterway Watermark Studios being built in Muskegon, MI.

 

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