Results tagged “crack”

As Phillyist Sarah pointed out yesterday in a comment on Philly in the News, Mark O'Donnell was arrested yesterday in the murder of Ebony Nicole Dorsey, the daughter of his girlfriend. He's been charged this morning with beating, strangling and sexually assaulting the 14-year-old. Dorsey's mother says the attack came after O'Donnell had been smoking crack all night, but O'Donnell says that's not true and that he caught the girl molesting his daughter. About 100...

The Inquirer takes a closer look at the Philadelphia policeman who was shot the day before the shooting of Chuck Cassidy, by a gunman who then fled and ultimately drowned in the Schuylkill. They also put the incident in the larger context of criminals in Philadelphia getting released from jail only to commit more crimes and be arrested again, over and over. Meanwhile, another Philadelphia police officer was injured this weekend, this time by...

When our friend first played a track for us by The Go! Team we thought it sounded like The Electric Company meets Nintendo music meets cheerleaders on crack. And that was only the first album. Their new CD, Proof of Youth, is back with a tighter version of the band, creating music that is even more bonkers. With guest stars ranging from Chuck D (wha!?!) to Bonde do Role's Marina Ribatski, you have to see it to believe it. Which you can accomplish by watching the video embedded above.

The shapeless dough of the internet, formed into tasty pellets and baked to perfection, just for you.

As it gets closer to Halloween for LAist, a contributer recollects her tale of staring down the serial killer, Richard Ramirez, otherwise known as the Night Stalker. Must think happy thoughts -- okay, free organic chocolate chip cookies for Los Angeles -- now that's a happy thought. Other happy Los Angeles thoughts include an interview with Jack Kehler of The Big Lebowski (he was the Dude's landlord), a beautiful and magical photographic moment in Venice and the press making the speaker of the California State Assembly, Fabian Nunez, run away when being asked hard questions about sketchy luxurious and worldly expenses.

Dear Satan:

This Phillyist started drinking coffee in college (we're just not all that precocious, what can we say). Those days, coffee consisted of a cuppa from the student center convenience store or, on good days, the spoils from a trip to Wawa. We're in danger of dating ourselves here, but a Starbucks didn't appear anywhere near campus until half-way through our tenure, and we didn't succumb to the green goddess's siren song with regularity until several years post-diploma. But now we're hooked; Wawa just doesn't offer mistos. Starbucks' brew tends toward the bitter side, but we can't stay away. Is there crack in that there coffee?

Hey there, readers! I'm back liveblogging the second day of the First Annual BlogPhiladelphia "unconference." This post will be constantly updating throughout the day, so it's going to stay at the top of the Phillyist main index. But be sure to scroll down for the rest of our regular content, and see full liveblog after the jump! (Meanwhile, forgive us any resulting funny HTML, folks. We're fixing mistakes as soon as we find them.)

By now you may have read about the arrest of 20-year-old street singer Anthony Riley on charges of disorderly conduct. He is, apparently, one of several criminals (read: victims) recently caught by police in an attempt to quell the evil uprising of mimes, musicians and street-based merry-makers terrorizing our city's wealthier residents.

Friday night, the boy and I were seeing a show at Johnny Brenda's, and we decided that, rather than the usual food downstairs, we'd branch out and explore the neighborhood. A little bit of internet searching led him to Isla Ibiza, about five blocks down Girard from our final destination for the evening.

Everything about Tuesday night’s Mountain Stage show at the Keswick was lush. The thick orange venue curtains, the tasteful production lights and ornate wall sconces, Larry Grace’s announcer voice spilling over us like some dark, rich chocolate. Margo Timmins of the Cowboy Junkies lulling us with "Follower 2." Martin Sexton’s soulful yodeling. Ben Arnold’s playful ode to marriage.

We're sorry. The 'Nobody puts Baby in a corner' crack was just too obvious, even for us.

We'll be the first to admit that we're a little addicted to watching the Food Network. It's not that we have it on all the time. It's just that once it's on, hours and hours will go by before we can even think about turning the television off. (It's probably more like televised pot, than televised crack, in that regard.) Hell, we even kind of like Rachel Ray. (Sure, she can be annoyingly chipper, and...

Basically I am still pissed about last night's concert, though it really had nothing to do with Albert Hammond Jr. Yesterday in my preview post I told you, "It will be worth it." It was definitely NOT worth it. It was not worth the hearing loss I suffered, the headache I still have or the fact that I didn't even get to finish listening to Albert Hammond Jr. Yep, that's right folks, I didn't stay...

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The shapeless dough of the internet, formed into tasty pellets and baked to perfection, just for you.

I still hate Valentine’s Day. I’m still bitter and I will still want to throw brightly colored, probably already stale Necco hearts at anyone who wears pink or red today.

To your daily liquid-crack intake?

Though MLS hopes to create a revolution in American sports with the signing of David Beckham to the L.A. Galaxy, it's more likely the move will have much more modest results. Über-celebrity that he is, one has to keep in mind that Beckham’s best playing days are behind him. As of today, it seems doubtful he’ll see any playing time with Real Madrid’s first team during the remaining 6 months of his contract with the Spanish side. Though it was growing ever more unlikely that he could ever play for England again, this move finalizes his international career with absolute certainty. A veritable elephant graveyard for former world superstars, the US is where great soccer players come to die. Though this was done before, one has to remember that it was with far greater footballers than Becks. All time greats Pelè and Franz Beckenbauer played on the all-star studded New York Cosmos in the 70s and despite their ability, stardom, and combined World Cup wins, soccer never quite took off here.

I can't believe this year is over. It has come and gone in a haze of concerts, martinis, deadlines, endings, beginnings, highs and lows.

Last Wednesday, I was walking home on my lunch break, and got stopped as someone pulled into the parking garage on Walnut between 18th and 19th. It was a big black SUV. The woman driving it was blasting Shareefa’s “I Need a Boss” and having her own full out dance party to it. I was prepared to be amused (even though that song is my current personal crack—that’s right, Flav has been replaced), but I suddenly felt people starring at me and… laughing? And then I realized that I too had started dancing. Shaking my ass in the middle of Rittenhouse, as it were.

As much as I love my time out, there are definitely times when I need nothing more than to hang out in my apartment, with my jammies to keep me comfy and the television to keep me entertained. On occasion, this results in my stumbling across a great movie or new show. Most of the time, though, it means I’m going to spend way too long watching way too much crap.

What's new and/or interesting on TV this week.

Dear Maintenance Crew: