It sounds like the title of a ’70s action flick starring Pam Grier, set to an Isaac Hayes soundtrack: Asshole Brown and SuperBitch. As it turns out, these are real people. One is a husband fallen on hard financial times; the other is a 63-year-old woman. Neither is related to Whore Julia, or to Dummy. But all four have one thing in common — they’re customers whose names were changed on their Comcast cable accounts, by Comcast employees. Read more »
Mitch Williams was, until recently, known for two things — throwing a baseball and talking baseball. He’s doing the latter here in a cramped studio in Collingswood, New Jersey. It’s home to Wildfire Radio, an online station that’s hoping to attract attention with Unleashed, a baseball chat show hosted by former Phillies reliever Mitch “Wild Thing” Williams. On a cold night in January, Mitch is flanked by two co-hosts and a special guest — his son, Declan. “I want people at home to know the depth of the knowledge of kids that are watching our game today,” Mitch explains, in case listeners are wondering why his 10-year-old is sitting in tonight. “It’s amazing. He amazes me on a daily basis.” Read more »
Early one Friday morning last January, I was surrounded by roughly 20,000 screaming fans, an army of half-naked women, and an effigy of Ruben Amaro. High above on the scoreboard video screen, a clip played on repeat. The image: a guy projectile vomiting. On the same floor where Allen Iverson once thrilled, where the Flyers nearly won their third Stanley Cup just five years ago, a bunch of dudes (and one very intimidating woman) were shoving chicken wings down their pie-holes as fast as they could. The crowd cheered, mostly in hopeful anticipation of someone puking.
INTERVIEW: Andy Cohen On Teresa Giudice, the Passing of Joan Rivers and How His Dog Opened Him Up to Dating
Andy Cohen, host of Bravo’s Watch What Happens: Live and maestro of the “Real Housewives” franchises, releases his second book today, cheekily titled The Andy Cohen Diaries: A Deep Look at a Shallow Year. We rang him up to chat about his latest literary effort, his emotional bond with soon-to-be-jailed Teresa Giudice, dealing with big egos and rumors of a possible “Housewives” series set in Philadelphia.
“I wish you were going to Vegas,” says the girl in the bright orange tank top. There’s something both infuriating and admirable about her tone. The way her declarative statements bend upward in pitch, as if she’s asking a question, reminds me of Valley Girls in the ’80s, and Paris Hilton. But this hot mess clearly doesn’t care what anyone around her thinks. If she were on a reality TV show, I’d say good for you — be yourself, screw the haters. But we’re on a SEPTA train bound for the ’burbs sometime around 6 p.m., and just seconds ago, the conductor made an announcement that we’re sitting in what’s known as the QuietRide car. Even if you’re not a regional-rail regular, you can probably figure out what that’s supposed to mean. Orange Tank Top and her male companion — who, in clear violation of some hipster-slacker ethos, is rocking both a backpack and a messenger bag — drone on, oblivious to both the friendly reminder and to the fact that no one in the entire car is talking except for them.
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Andy Cohen, host of Bravo’s Watch What Happens Live and overlord of all things Real Housewives, took a few minutes today to chat and promote his upcoming book, The Andy Cohen Diaries (out November 11). Among the topics he addressed: Recent rumors that a series set in or around Philadelphia was in the works. (And really, who wouldn’t love to see Sharon Pinkenson, poker-mom Beth Shak, and Johari Rollins forced to mingle at a dinner party?)
So, Andy, has there been any talk of a RHOP (Real Housewives of Philadelphia), RHORS (Rittenhouse Square) or RHOML (Main Line)?
PM: So you’re pretty deep into production for season two of Broad City?
Abbi: Yeah, we’re actually done tomorrow, so it’s really nuts. I’m standing in the middle of Prospect Park in Brooklyn. I’m watching the crew shoot a scene with Ilana [Glazer, her Broad City partner] right now.
PM: Were you the class-clown type at Conestoga High?
Abbi: A little bit. They had this cool show called the Junior Cabaret, and I got to be one of the comedic hosts for the night. That was my first time performing in front of that many people. I took classes growing up at the Walnut Street Theatre and the Actors Center downtown on 3rd on Saturdays — my parents would drive me in. I was kind of obsessed with SNL, but I didn’t think comedy was an option at all.
PM: Did growing up in this area shape your sense of humor?
Abbi: Abbi on the show is from Philly. I try to play that up as much as I can. I don’t know — I think my parents are really funny. I had a pretty cool childhood. I definitely draw all of my material from my life.
PM: The Abbi character seems like you, with certain traits amplified. Read more »
Earlier this month, Philadelphia became the largest city in the United States to decriminalize marijuana. We want to know what you think about efforts to make pot legal (and, if you’re willing to share, whether you partake yourself). Results will appear in a future issue of Philadelphia magazine.
STEPHEN: You know, growing up, my goal was to be a disc jockey.
PIERRE: Really? Wow.
STEPHEN: I got my FCC license when I was 15. I was 16 at a radio station in Vineland, New Jersey. I wanted to be Scott Muni. Same guys that you probably looked up to. I used to love listening to Michael Tearson and Ed Sciaky. Michael was my favorite — that voice. Then I got a job at WMGM in Atlantic City.
PIERRE: That’s so cool. I came to town in ’81 from San Francisco, and the Ripley [Music Hall, Starr’s club] was already established.
STEPHEN: That was on South Street. It opened in ’80, next to what is now my restaurant, Serpico. I knew all the radio guys ’cause we advertised a lot, so we got to know Pierre through that. And then we did a big welcoming of John [DeBella] when he came.
PIERRE: He was amazing. When he walked into the studio, he had a red beret on, and red mirrored sunglasses and a red leather jacket — at six in the morning. I knew the world had changed at ’MMR. … I was floored by how alive the music scene was at that time. There were all these great local bands: Kenn Kweder, the A’s, Beru Revue, and, later, Tommy Conwell, the Hooters, Robert Hazard and the Heroes. I walked down South Street on a Monday night and it was bursting with energy. You wouldn’t find that today.
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“I would cut all that chit-chatter out!” he hollers to the defensive back he just beat, without so much as a glance in the man’s direction. “Let’s go!”
I’m on the sidelines of an empty football stadium at Pierce College in suburban Los Angeles, on a cloudless Tuesday morning in August. All across the country, NFL teams are midway through their training camps, and the start of the season is just weeks away. Here, the handful of athletes who work out twice a week are mostly in their 20s, with pedigrees from big-time schools like USC and stints in the pros. They’re staying in shape, hoping for the football equivalent of a winning Powerball ticket — a call inviting them back to the big show. Then there’s that receiver who looks so familiar. The long, chiseled frame, factory-built for highlight reels. The trash talk. It’s Terrell Owens.
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