Posts Tagged ‘Burger King’

We were swamped at work and I didn’t get a chance to catch my breath until well into the afternoon. Even if I hadn’t forgotten my lunch at home, I wouldn’t have been able to eat until 4:00 at the earliest. But by then I had gone beyond hunger. Ever been there? When you wait so long to eat that you no longer feel like eating? It’s like your hunger fed on itself until it disappeared.

So I decided that I wouldn’t run out and get something awful in the area (the deli around the corner makes a semi-competent egg sandwich; the owner of the deli two doors down is still mad at me because I refused to comp him a doctor’s appointment; the Chinese buffet next door makes Panda Express look like Shun Lee; the Burger King next door is a Burger King). Instead, I’d wait until we closed at 9:00, hightail it to Zito’s Sandwich Shoppe on 7th Avenue (in Brooklyn, not Manhattan) and get my new most favoritest sandwich ever: The 8-Hour Slow-Cooked Pork Bracciole.

It’s a butterflied loin of pork (from Faicco’s!) stuffed with provolone, garlic, parsley and a pinch of bread crumbs, covered in their deceptively simple tomato sauce, and sprinkled with parmigianno reggiano — all served on a perfect hero (from Brooklyn’s own Il Fornaretto Bakery!). It’s absolutely amazing.

Zito’s closes at 10:00, but I called them at around 8:00 and asked when they stopped taking orders. “10:00 p.m.” Perfect. If I left work at 9:00, I’d be between the Carroll Street station and the 4th Avenue and Ninth Street station (which is an area that gets great cell reception as it isn’t in a tunnel) by 9:45. I’d call in my order and arrive at Zito’s by 10:00 at the absolute latest.

I wasn’t hungry until around 8:30, but from the moment I devised my plan I could only think of that sandwich and how good it would taste when I ate it with my face.

A patient arrived at 8:15, so I started tidying and closing down what I could. He was on his way by 8:50 and I considered calling in my order and telling them that I’d be there in an hour. “Nah,” I thought. “No need. My plan is foolproof.”

Cut to 9:30, when we actually locked up.

I calmly walked to the R train, frantically doing math problems in my head (what if I get off the train just before 10 and call in the order and then get back on the train — would that work?). I didn’t see myself getting a sandwich. So I started considering the places near Zito’s that would still be open. Mediocre pizza, horrendous Mexican, Dunkin’ Donuts, Rite Aid… nothing really tickled my fancy. Then I heard the R train coming. I raced down the stairs and then raced up the other stairs (I hate you, Cortland Street station) and made it onto the Brooklyn-bound R. I looked at my watch phone. It was 9:35.

“Hmmm… I could get to Jay Street by 9:48… if there’s an F train there by 9:53, my plan will still work!”

I maneuvered through the train so that I was standing exactly where the entrance to the escalator at Jay Street would soon be. When we arrived at the station, I hurriedly climbed the escalator (it’s like walking fast on an airport treadmill except not fun and it makes me wheeze). In all the time I’ve made this commute, there has never been an F train waiting for me at Jay Street. Tonight, there was. At the doors closed as soon as I started down the steps toward it. A crazy person was loudly trying to seduce a morbidly obese station agent as she pretended to sweep the floor. It offered me no succor. I would arrive home sandwichless.

An F came about 10 minutes later. When we were finally out of the tunnel, I called Zito’s. It was 10:02.

“Zito’s, how can I help you?”

“He wants to help me!” I thought. “A place that wasn’t taking orders wouldn’t offer me assistance!” I tried to hide my giddyness from the dead-in-the-eyes commuters surrounding me. “Are you still taking orders?” I asked.

“Sorry, no. We’re no longer taking delivery orders. We stop at 10. Have a good night.”

***

But… but… what of his offer of help? What did he expect me to ask for that he would have been able to aid me with? “Would it be possible for me to not order a sandwich?” I was gutted. But then I had another thought. They aren’t taking delivery orders, but what of pick-ups? What of pick-ups? We were back underground, but I started to feverishly imagine various scenarios wherein I exit the subway and call and ask to make a pick-up order and am told, “Sure thing!” or that I arrive just as they’re about to throw away a pile of unclaimed but perfectly OK sandwiches or that I appeal to the kindness of Zito and he smiles and nods and hands me the sandwich that he had been saving for me all along.

[Full Disclosure: I don't think anyone who works at Zito's is named Zito.]

I started walking towards the shop and saw their sign was still illuminated. “That’s a good sign,” I thought. Then I thought about what a horrible pun that was and winced. I crossed the street and approached their door. As I did, I noticed people sitting and eating. Then, as I was about to reach for the knob (and feign surprise when I found it locked), someone opened it to take out the trash. I saw my opportunity and seized it.

The first employee who saw me wasn’t any of the three guys behind the counter. They all had their backs turned to me and were dealing with various closing duties. No, the one who immediately took notice of me was one of the cooks. He had a slight note of “you’ve got to be kidding me” on his face. I smiled weakly at him and waited by the register. Finally, someone turned around and asked if he could help me.

“Can I get a sandwich to go?”

He looked at the cook, then at his register, then at me — all while wearing a mask of “please notice that I am trying to make it clear that you cannot.”

I would accept a “no,” but he would have to say it to me. I wouldn’t say it to myself. At this point I was getting deliriously hungry.

“…OK,” he surrendered. The cook rolled his eyes. I didn’t care.

I sat down to wait. I could hear various people saying, “I told him not to take out the trash yet” and “lock the damn door” and “we’re supposed to be closed by now” and “what is wrong with him?” I went from fearing that I cost someone their job to wondering if the last remark was directed at me to not caring about anything except bracciole. In fact, I started imaging the man getting killed by his co-workers for unknowingly letting me in and, at his peasant funeral, a rockslide wiping his entire family out. I imagined everyone at Zito’s pointing and laughing at me for being so pathetic that I needed to swindle my way into a meal. None of it mattered to me. I just wanted my dinner.

After what seemed like two minutes (but might have been three), I was handed my sandwich. I profusely thanked the man who handed it to me. Then I profusely thanked the man who unlocked the door to let me out. I almost started to cry.

It took me another 25 minutes to get home, but I didn’t care. As soon as I walked in the front door, I washed my hands, ripped open the foil and paper casing and did unspeakable, inhuman things to my first real meal of the day (the semi-competent egg sandwich I ate at 8:00 a.m. doesn’t count).

You know what? This would be a terrible movie.

Today’s cover story:

DSK MAID A HOOKER

EXCLUSIVE

‘Took care’ of guests on the side

SEE PAGES 4, 5, 6, 7

Laura Italiano writes the EXCLUSIVE page 4 follow-up (MAID CLEANING UP AS ‘HOOKER’), which begins, “Dominique Strauss-Kahn’s accuser wasn’t just a girl working at a hotel — she was a working girl.” She then says the the Post “has learned” that the (alleged) victim was “a prostitute.”

“‘There is information… of her getting extraordinary tips, if you know what I mean. And it’s not for bringing extra fucking towels,’ a source close to the defense investigation said yesterday.” Oh, well, that settles it. If an anonymous source “close to the defense” says implies that the woman is a hooker, that’s good enough for me!

The (alleged) lies that the (alleged) victim (allegedly) told the authorities include:

• She said she ran from DSK’s room after the incident and hid, waiting for him to leave. She later admitted that she cleaned two rooms — including DSK’s — before reporting the incident.

• She claimed on her asylum paperwork that she was gang-raped by Guinean soldiers. She later admitted that that was a lie.

* She said she has two children on her tax returns, but really only has one.

First of all, we have no way of knowing what was going on in her mind after the (alleged) incident. Maybe she cleaned the rooms in an attempt to get her mind off of what just happened. Secondly, we should be flattered that she wanted to be an American so badly that she lied on her application. If everyone who lied on their job application was fined a dollar, we wouldn’t need to raise the debt ceiling. Finally, there are sitting politicians who have lied on their tax returns (and some who forget to even file them), so that shouldn’t make her ineligible to report a rape.

No, the only thing in the paper that makes me question this woman’s story is this: “Twenty-eight hours after the alleged sexual assault, the woman talked to her boyfriend in an immigration jail in Arizona — saying “words to the effect of, ‘Don’t worry, this guy has a lot of money. I know what I’m doing.’”

And the source for that? The New York Times. So much for the Post’s EXCLUSIVE.

I should note, though, that there really isn’t a whole lot of evidence that the woman is a hooker (besides allegations from the people she’s taking to court).

There are no apologies to DSK for all of the horrible things the Post has called him while under the impression that he was a rapist (which may or may not still be true). In fact, Andrea Peyser’s The filthy froggy is still a wart hog is the polar opposite of a mea culpa.

But why insult one Frenchman when you can insult the whole country (again)? Bill Sanderson and Andy Soltis’ Sacré bleu! The French are actually ready to fight claims that “Le Figaro’s political editor said DSK may be ready to legally ’settle scores’ with Americans for the way he was ‘dragged through the mud.’” I wonder if the Post will tbe sued for headlines like FROG LEGS IT! and FRENCH WHINE and CHEZ PERV…

Finally, in Dareh Gregorian’s ‘No way she survives cross-examination’, New York’s sleaziest attorney explains to the Post why the (alleged) victim’s case against DSK is all but lost. “Most damaging of all, said legal eagle Joseph Tacopina, was her admission that she’d concocted a story about being gang-raped in her native Guinea so that she could seek asylum in the United States. ‘Besides her veracity and that she lied to prosecutors, she lied about a rape,’ he said. ‘That’s something you can never overcome.’” Unless your name is Kenneth Moreno or Franklin Mata.

On page 3, David Seifman’s Mike sheds light on ‘pole’ jerk discusses “the publicity stunt by a pole-climbing rapper” — who Seifman later describes as “publicity-hungry” and “crazed.”

Rather than make the same comment I’ve made every day since the incident first happened, I’ll let Mayor Bloomberg say it for me: “He certainly got a lot of publicity.”

Still is, actually.

Page 8 has a gigantic article on Anthony Weiner and I think it’s the first one without a sexual pun (Race to replace Weiner: Gov sets Sept. date for special elex).

You’ve come a long way, paper.

Maria Shriver has filed for divorce from Arnold Schwarzenegger.

In other words, Maria and Arnold’s marriage has been… ended.

Page Six (today on page 12) reports that “Paris Hilton isn’t wasting any time shedding tears over her split with Cy Waits. The heiress has been on two dates this week with The Hangover director Todd Phillips.”

A few sentences later: “Hilton and Phillips are said to be old friends, but whether this develops into a romance is yet to be seen.”

Consumer Reports has completed a survey of 53 fast-food restaurants and named McDonald’s “the worst fast-food burger place in the nation.” Burger King was voted the second-worst. In-N-Out Burger was voted the best (I still prefer Fatburger to In-N-Out), with Five Guys Burgers and Fries voted the best burger chain in New York.

I ate at Five Guys once about a year ago. When I got home, I wrote an email to the customer service address on their Web site telling them that my order was screwed up (I got 2 of the 5 things I asked for on my burger and 2 that I didn’t want) and that the cheese they used was quite possibly the worst I’ve ever had on a burger anywhere. The owner of the franchise I had visited wrote me back — that day — and offered to comp my meal the next time I eat there. To this day, I haven’t taken him up on his offer.

They do have good fries, though.

“HILLCREST HEIGHTS, Md. — A 5-year-old boy shot a 4-year-old boy at a playground, according to authorities.”

You know what this country needs? Less regulation.

Westfield, New Jersey’s Tom Lienhard writes in to praise Michael A. Walsh for his Al Gore’s Next Crusade: In Your Bed, which mocks Gore for his insistence that global warming is real.

“Gore should first look at himself, as he is one of the biggest sources of hot air every time he opens his mouth.”

And that’s about the extent of the far right’s comprehension of global warming.

When stock in Zynga becomes available, buy it. It will shoot up in price for most of the day. When it starts to drop back down, sell it.

I am a genius.

“Nike re-signed Philadelphia Eagles quarterback Michael Vick to an endorsement deal yesterday.”

I can’t believe they just did that.

AOL Kids has launched a new animated Internet series called Martha & Friends. It stars Martha Stewart as “a 10-year-old blonde” who is “a problem solving, craft-loving girl.”

And that’s a poorly-thought-out thing.

And that’s Saturday.

Try to stay dry today!

First, this:

Happy St. Patrick’s Day.

Second, this:

1) What obesity epidemic?

2) Is “liminal” a word? How about “super-liminal”?

3) Why does the copy say it’s “a single beef patty” when there are clearly two levels of “meat”?

4) Why not just call it the BK PHALLUS PHOR PHATTIES?

The top half of today’s cover is devoted to the NCAA Tournament and lets us know Johnnies jazzed for Zags (among other things). Directly below that story’s headline (Madness!) is actual madness.

FISSION IMPOSSIBLE: Last-chance heroes know they will die tells the story of “the Fukushima Fifty — ordinary technicians who know that if they succeed in preventing a nuke-plant meltdown, they will die horrible deaths.” But their decision — to continue on a suicide mission that will (hopefully) prevent the deaths of millions of others — wasn’t entirely their own.

“You are the only ones who can resolve a crisis. Retreat is unthinkable,” Japanese Prime Minister Naoto Kan told the fifty technicians and emergency workers. The Post refers to them as “modern-day Samurai,” because the Post doesn’t know what Samurai are.

In a related story, Governor Cuomo “has ordered a safety review of the Indian Point nuclear plant” (which is “near a seismic fault line 35 miles north of Manhattan”). But if Japan wasn’t in the middle of a cataclysm, he wouldn’t have. Excellent.

In an even more related story, “Two flights that originated in Tokyo and landed in Dallas and Chicago yesterday triggered radiation detectors when passengers passed through customs.” Not to get too Juan Williams on y’all, but if I see someone Asian on my upcoming flight, I’m-a start spraying seawater (not a euphemism). [JEDITOR'S NOTE: No, I won't.]

Finally, the death toll has been raised to over 13,000 (but it’s expected to keep rising).

A woman managed to get past TSA screeners at Newark Airport with a steak knife tucked inside her baby carriage.

I guess they didn’t slap her vagina hard enough (or give her enough cancer).

How much would you pay for this dog?

If your answer was less than $1,500,000, then you can’t afford him — that’s what an anonymous “coal baron from northern China” recently paid.

Granted, the dog is cute. But not that cute.

“Eric Persaud, 36, pleaded guilty to burning both sides of his girlfriend’s face [with a hot iron] as their three children slept and slicing her face twice with a razor blade on April 30, 2009, for calling the cops after he broke her her computer and phone.”

His sentence? 13 years. But don’t worry — I’m sure he’ll be out in 7.

B’also? How’d she call the police if he broke her phone?

I might not get a chance to try out my get-rich-by-waiting-in-line-for-Apple-products plan. Yesterday, despite the torrential rain, people were lined up outside the Fifth Avenue Apple Store — and most of them weren’t buying iPad 2’s for some “fat cats” who will then ship the tablets (back) to China where they will be sold on the black market. “The Post witnessed more than half of the 400 in line at 8:00 a.m. — nearly all of whom were Asian — hand over their purchases to the group’s ringleaders in exchange for cash.”

Fun Fact: “Last year, when Apple tried to crack down on the practice, the office of then-Attorney General Andrew Cuomo warned the company that holding Asian customers to a higher degree of scrutiny was illegal.” Oops.

Andrea Peyser weighs in on the story of Nicole Imprescia (and her 4-year-old daughter, Lucia) in NO NURSERY RHYME OR REASON.

“Lucia Imprescia has been limited to a lifetime vocabulary of ‘You want fries with that?’ All because her wackadoodle mom sent her to an Upper East Side nursery school that failed to produce the precocious brat she ordered… The mom said her tyke was not drilled to take tests that determine which toddlers get into posh elementary schools and which ones wind up obese in hair nets.” Um… I’m pretty sure that’s not what she said. Believe me, I am no fan of the elder Imprescia, but I find it odd that Mandrea feels the need to put hateful and insulting words into her mouth.

Hilariously, directly to the right of that piece is Forces of nature, which begins: “The horrors overtaking Japan have left me frightened and humbled.”

Andrea Peyser humbled? That’s like Sarah Palin saying “The horrors overtaking Japan have left me frightened and intelligent.”

Pull the other one, ugly.

“An MTA signal maintainer who was among more than 1,000 TWU Local 100 workers accused of dangerously falsifying safety records will be the first prosecuted in the fraud, The Post has learned… The MTA Inspector General’s Office is talking to another eight or nine maintainers who could also face charges, sources said.”

Over 1,000 MTA employees knowingly and willingly put my life at risk and 1% of them might face charges?

Well, at least I can take solace in the fact that “one high-level chief, Tracy Bowdwin — the MTA’s highest-paid Signal Department supervisor, at $165,000 a year — was incarcerated fired demoted over the scandal.”

If this doesn’t make you furious, you probably work for the MTA.

And what hot gossip does Cindy Adams have for us today?

“Reader Freddie Klein wants us to know that Miguel, 74, a waiter at Certe on West 55th has 26 grandchildren and 10 great-grandchildren. OK, so now we know. Only in New York, kids, only in New York.”

Hey, she’s right! Certe on West 55th is only in New York!

You’ve done it again, Cindy!

A student was suspended from Hickory Middle School in Virginia after he was found with “a bag of dried oregano” — the school declared it an “imitation controlled substance.” Can you guess the student’s name? Give up?

Adam Grass.

Page 29 is one of the worst op-ed pages I’ve ever seen.

George F. Will’s Swimming Dragon: Chinese naval threat on the rise warns us to fear the folks who own us (as an added bonus, the piece ends with “China’s naval purposes, the subject of a subsequent column, are more interesting and potentially more ominous.” — not since they announced the cast of the next season of Dancing With the Stars have I looked forward to something less).

And under that BE AFRAID!!! op-ed is Betsy McCaughey’s latest nonsensical BE AFRAID!!! rant about health care: STOP TELLING US WHERE TO DIE. But rather than go through her anti-hospice screed, let’s remind ourselves about why we should never ever listen to anything this woman ever says ever about anything ever.

“Timothy Durham, an Indiana businessman who served for years as National Lampoon’s CEO, was arrested yesterday on charges he ran a Ponzi scheme that defrauded investors of more than $200 million.”

1) Durham became CEO of National Lampoon, Inc. in 2009. Which is not what you’d assume based on this one-sentence mention in BUSINESS BRIEFS.

2) National Lampoon Inc. had no part in the Ponzi scheme — it was Durham’s other businesses (Obsidian Enterprises and Fair Financial) that are being investigated.

3) No mention is made of the more than $800,000 Duram has donated to the Republican Party (nearly $200,000 of which went to Mitch Daniels).

4) Fun Fact: Durham became CEO of National Lampoon Inc. after his predecessor, Donald Laikin, was arrested and charged in 2008 with allegedly manipulating the stock of the Los Angeles-based company.

Maybe they should think about hiring some creative people to run the company instead of rich sleazeballs?

Michael Gough, the British actor who played Batman’s butler (Alfred Pennyworth) in the pre-Christopher Nolan Batman franchise, has passed away at the age of 94.

He has 178 TV and film credits on IMDB going back to 1946’s Androcles and the Lion, but I’ll always remember him from his starring role in the wonderfully terrible Horror Hospital (released here as The Computer Killers).

Godspeed, Mr. Gough.

The Post asked a number of celebrities where their favorite Irish place in New York is. All of the responses are dull (Bill O’Reilly likes South Street Seaport! Jay McInerney likes The Spotted Pig!) except for one: Louis C.K.

“Favorite Irish place is a big Irish cop’s cold face on a winter morning. I say hello and he nods like, ‘Yup, keep walkin’,’ and I’m transported to 1943. Sometimes he’s Puerto Rican, Asian, black or a woman, but it still ‘feels’ Irish.”

“Atlanta Braves minor league manager Luis Salazar has lost an eye after he was struck in the face by a line drive while watching a spring-training game [on March 9th].”

Prior to the accident, it was all fun and games.

Child-hating, homosexuality-denying Bravo staple Andy Cohen told OK! Magazine that The Real Housewives of Miami will (probably) be the channel’s final entry in the franchise (“I really feel like we’re done. We’re pleased with the number of cities and locations we have,” he redundantly said).

Which means fans of the franchise will have to be content with The Real Housewives of Atlanta, The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, The Real Housewives of DC, The Real Housewives of Miami, The Real Housewives of New Jersey, The Real Housewives of New York City, and The Real Housewives of Orange County. And the spin-off Bethenny Ever After. And Andy Cohen’s weekly rehash of the network’s shows, Watch What Happens: Live. And being grotesquely stupid.

“The Republican National Committee is considering sanctioning its own GOP primary debates and selling the TV rights to the highest bidder.”

Raise your hand if you think the higher bid won’t come from a channel owned by Rupert Murdoch. Because this will make it completely legal for Rupert to donate millions to the GOP — and be able to claim that it isn’t a political donation.

If your hand is raised, slap yourself in the forehead with it.

And that’s Thursday. Tomorrow will be my last regular entry until later this month (though I’m sure I’ll be updating sporadically from Florida — think of it as an incredibly half-assed live blogging of my vacation).

The weekend is only a day away!

Today’s cover story, NUKE TERROR: Japan sites on brink of meltdown, begins, “More than 180,000 terrified people fled their homes in Japan as four nuclear-power plants faced catastrophic meltdowns yesterday in the wake of the devastating earthquake and tsunami.” Other interesting things from the four pages of follow-up: “As many as 190 people might have been exposed to radiation and the overall death toll soared past 10,000″; the earthquake was upgraded from an 8.9 to a 9.0; the island of Japan was moved 13 feet to the east and Earth’s axis shifted four inches; and a volcano in southern Japan erupted yesterday.

This just keeps getting worse.

Battle: Los Angeles opened in first place this weekend with $35,573,187. Rango came in second with $22,602,847 and Red Riding Hood opened in third with $14,005,335. The Adjustment Bureau dropped to fourth with $11,597,335 and Mars Needs Moms opened in fifth with… $6,914,488. Ouch.

But, according to Don Kaplan, Charlie is king of the box office because tickets to Charlie Sheen Live: My Violent Torpedo of Truth/Defeat is Not an Option (“the train-wreck star’s two upcoming Midwest stage shows”) sold out in 18 minutes — “a Ticketmaster record.”

The only thing more pitiful than Charlie Sheen is that thousands of people are paying to watch him cry for help (while insisting that he doesn’t need help).

Two of the people on the World Wide Tours bus that crashed on Saturday get on the next available World Wide Tours bus to return to Mohegan Sun. Bernardo Garcia, 50, explains that “when it’s your time to go, it’s your time to go.” Fair enough. But Theodore Radulescu, 55, frightens me.

Theodore “rushed straight from St. Barnabas Hospital still dressed in his medical gown and bloody socks to the Lower East Side’s Bowery Mission, where he picked up new clothes before boarding another World Wide Tours bus. ‘When a bomb goes off, it doesn’t go off again in the same place.’”

Bombs, lightning, bus crashes — it’s all the same to Crazy Teddy.

And he’s single, ladies!

According to Page Six (today on page 10), James Frey’s new book (which goes on sale on Good Friday) is called The Final Testament of the Holy Bible and features the second coming of Jesus Christ in the form of Ben Jones — an alcoholic who “smokes pot, has sex with a prostitute and makes out with men.”

Congratulations, James, on writing a book that is guaranteed to sell out because some folks will burn it and others will think it’s a collector’s item.

Look for my new book, Black Gay Jesus and Hermaphrodite Batman Do Lots of Heroin Inside Sarah Palin, in the very near future (but first, the lawsuits).

“Model-actress Natalia Vodianova and her British property-heir husband, Justin Portman, have been spending less time together, sources say.” Oh, no! Will they divorce before she officially changes her name to Natalia Portman?

Cindy Adams continues to deteriorate before our very eyes.

“Please, someone stuff a sock in the mouth of Churlish Sheen. Fitness’ Richie Ornstein calls him a schlepebrity. For Easter, the Cadbury Bunny’s bringing him a solid milk chocolate muzzle.”

In other news that no one could possibly care about, “…Tori Spelling walking a pet goat on a leash in her California neighborhood. Calls him ‘McGoat’…”

Bravo, Cindy.

Remember the MTA cop who shot the plainclothes cop in the face?

“Officials said an MTA cop… drew his gun and shot [Officer Geoff Breitkopf] in the side.”

B’also? “Officials called the shooting an accident and said the MTA cop, identified by sources as Glenn Gentile, would face neither criminal nor departmental charges.”

Remember these details. Tuesday’s paper will infuriate you. I promise!

Andrea Peyser’s HERE’S THE REAL INSULT is four sentences of what kids in the 80’s called “grody.”

“As hearings proceed in Washington on the threat of radical Islam, liberal pundits claim that pointing a finger at Muslims will breed more America-haters. What is wrong with this picture? It suggests that Muslims, the majority ‘outstanding’ citizens, as Homeland Security Committee head Peter King insists, are by nature so fragile that a perceived insult is enough to drive them over the edge. That’s called racial profiling.”

1) I think Mandrea left out a word or two in the phrase “the majority ‘outstanding’ citizens,” though I could be wrong. I guess it’s grammatically correct… it just scans poorly.

2) This is one of those arguments Post employees have where they decide what the (ONLY) two sides are and one of them is insane and the other is them. No one is saying that “a perceived insult” will create more terrorists. That’s like me saying, “The Vatican is so sensitive about being asked about the Pope’s Nazi past that the mere mention of it will cause priests around the world to start raping even more children than they already are.” (see what I did there?)

3) Actually, you droopy-faced cretin, racial profiling is when you say there are too many mosques in this country and that most of them are run by terrorists who preach terrorist ideology. Therefore (for the math-challenged among you), almost all Muslims are terrorists.

Burger King CEO Bernardo Hees was speaking at the University of Chicago recently when he told students about his time as a student in England. “The food is terrible and the women are not very attractive.”

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Bernardo Hees.

Hees no great catch, either.

Lots of letters about Peter King’s hearings on radical Islam. Manhattan’s Peter Nicholls asks, “Would [King's definition of 'radical'] include alleged Christians who feel it morally correct to murder abortion providers or blow up abortion centers?” A valid question, Peter, that no one at the Post (or in the GOP) will ever answer.

Manhattan’s Robert Sieger fumes that “The Post’s reasoning [behind exonerating King for his support of the IRA] — that because the IRA has never set off any bombs in the United States, King’s consorting with IRA terrorists and bombers is irrelevant — is facile and sophomoric.” Indeed.

But the incredibly aptly-named Maura Nasti, of New Rochelle, proudly explains that her grandfather “fought side by side with Michael Collins in Ireland’s fight for independence” and she is “outraged by those who criticize King for his past support of these groups who fought for freedom in Northern Ireland. These groups never posed any threat to our national security.” Which is a great argument: We don’t condone terrorism — unless it happens somewhere else.

Michael A. Walsh’s Military ‘Diversity’: More DC Silliness is the Vulcan Muppet’s latest rant about what’s wrong with the military that he was never a member of. “The diversity commission last week issued its completely unawaited report to call for, you guessed it, more diversity among military leadership.” Oh no! Obama’s Socialist Regime is suggesting that maybe our officer corps should better reflect the armies they command! I’ll never stop throwing up!

“It seems the problem is — wait for it — that the officer corps has too many white males. This, of course, will come as a shock to George Washington, U.S. Grant, Black Jack Pershing, George Patton and Dwight D. Eisenhower, who somehow managed to struggle through to victory without the accumulated wisdom of the Military Leadership Diversity Commission.”

1) Why call him “Black Jack” Pershing? Why not call him by the actual nickname he got at West Point: “Nigger Jack”? Or are you hiding behind the political correctness you love to mock? [JEDITOR'S NOTE: Pershing was White.]

2) Your argument that the armies and officer corps of 2011 should look just like their 1776 counterparts would be laughable if it wasn’t so profoundly ignorant.

3) You know what else would come as a shock to George Washington? That you can no longer whip Black people in the street if they don’t work hard enough as your slave.

4) It’s always enjoyable when an old White man writes about why old White men are the best and everyone else should stop trying to reach their station in life.

Page 26 is a full-page, pull-color ad for Fox Business Network’s newest program:

LOU DOBBS: BACK TO BUSINESS!

I’m sure it will be a very fair and balanced show about business.

In her new Broadway show, Kathy Griffin refers to Bristol Palin as “the White Precious.”

Wait… Tripp has AIDS?

Mark Cuban claims that he and Charlie Sheen “are tossing around a lot of ideas about what HD Net and Charlie can do together. He continues to videotape and do a lot of different things, but we are exploring a lot of different options. I am pretty confident something is going to happen.”

Charlie Sheen in high definition?

Just the thought of that will keep me up tonight.

Remember when Richard Hatch went to jail for almost three years because he didn’t pay taxes on the $1,000,000 he got for winning the first season of Survivor? Well, guess what he never got around to doing. Give up? Pay taxes on the $1,000,000 he got for winning the first season of Survivor.

Which is why he now owes the IRS $2,000,000 — and has been sentenced to another nine months in prison.

“Hatch can appeal the sentence but, unless it is delayed, he will not be around next May for the live finale of [Celebrity Apprentice].”

Incidentally, I watched the first episode of the new season of Celebrity Apprentice last night. And may God have mercy on my soul.

That’s all I have time for today. I’ll try to catch up tomorrow.

Happy Tuesday!