You can’t write a list without someone commenting that you missed something — and that’s exactly what happened with our Big List of Funny Philadelphia Street Names in this week’s Philadelphia Sunday. But that’s good! Because our readers came up with a bunch more funny Philadelphia street names that I neglected to include in my first edition.
I compiled some of your suggestions from comments and tweets, and now we have an appendix to the original article. Enjoy! Read more »
[UPDATE] We heard your suggestions and have published an addendum to the original list: Readers Respond:Here Are 12 More Funny Philadelphia Street Names.
Philadelphia has a lot of streets. As a result, Philadelphia also has a lot of street names. Many of them are pretty ordinary. Second. Broad. Main. Yawn.
But many of our street names are funny. Very funny, even. Some of them are funny because they sound silly. Others have amusing origins. And still others make absurd images pop into our heads. Read more »
Okay, so the first question you should never ask anyone is pretty obvious, because almost all of us have done it anyway. The question is, “When are you due?” And the reason you should never ask it of anyone is in case they’re not.
Theoretically you could safely ask this of men, but given the increasingly tenuous boundaries of gender, better to play it safe and just zip your lip. Because, really, if you’re a woman and you’ve ever been asked this when you weren’t, you remember. The moment burns in your memory even if (as in my case) it was decades ago. Pregnancy is a joyous occasion. Having a gut is not. Being reminded that you have a gut really is not. So, don’t ask this question. Even if you’re pretty damned sure she’s due any minute and she’s carrying twins.
The second question you should never ask anyone is, perhaps, less obvious, because sociologically, it’s a more recent development. Read more »
It’s not easy to find love — especially in Philadelphia, especially in February.
But it’s not like we’re not trying. No, we’re trying really hard — from the Whole Foods check-out line to the Market-Frankford El — to make contact with fellow humans. Some of us just aren’t very good at it.
In honor of Valentine’s Day, we’re nudging along some of the cuter Missed Connections posted on Craigslist during the past two weeks. You guys deserve to be happy, if only just for one fake holiday. (As for the gross guys trying to pick up Kelly Drive joggers? Ya’ll are on your own – and stop that right now.)
Recognize yourself? Get in touch! Don’t, but like what you’re reading? These people are looking for love on Craigslist — they’ll probably give you a chance.
Read more »
In the latest sign of the Apocalypse, the Wall Street Journal on Friday had an article on the growth of professional cuddling. That is, people who get paid to lie on beanbag chairs and chaise longues beside other people who pay them for the privilege. Of being cuddled. I know your next question, and here’s the answer: $80 an hour. And I know your next question: Yes, everyone’s clothes stay on. Read more »
Seems that one of the peregrine falcons who hang out at 2400 Chestnut [update: or maybe not — see comments below] picked up a squab snack around 9 this morning but just couldn’t find the right spot to settle down and dig in:
The perfect aerie soon presented itself, however — the canopy in front of Boyds.
When I returned to Philadelphia in 2011 after a few years spent in D.C. and abroad, I couldn’t help but notice Philly’s borderline obsession with, well, Philadelphia.
More precisely, the word “Philadelphia,” which we just absolutely love to mess around with. “Philadelphia” finds its way — in part or in whole, one way or another — into countless other nouns in this toponymically infatuated city.
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A hall-of-fame Mummer and his daughter have been accused of attacking a homeless man, generating international headlines.
Carmen “Butchie” D’Amato, 62, and his daughter, 36-year-old Rita D’Amato were arrested on Halloween night.
Read more »
I started to worry about Halloween a couple years ago.
Right around the time when my hallowed hangover started to creep into November 2nd, my friends started staying home because they couldn’t find a sitter. Just as 10 p.m. began to sound a little late to head out to a costume party, my Facebook feed blew up with pictures of tiny humans in tiny pumpkin costumes.
This year, it seems official: I’m in Halloween purgatory — I’m wise enough to know the true cost of an open bar, but still selfish enough to steal Reese’s Cups from your little pumpkins.
But while there are a lot of holidays I’ll surrender to my 20s (it was real, New Year’s), Halloween is not one of them. I grew up in the Northeast, where trick-or-treating was a competitive sport, where tightly packed row houses meant all the candy you could carry — and then a second helping after emptying your pillowcase at home.
So how to celebrate a proper Halloween when you’re not a kid anymore — and don’t have one? It’s easy, but there are some rules.
Read more »