Monday, March 31

Rain postpones Yankees opener; prolongs inevitable soul-crushing season for fans

It’s a shitty day here in NY, and the gusty winds and rain have postponed today’s scheduled home opener between the Yanks and the Jays until tomorrow at 7:05 p.m. They say rain is good luck on a wedding day, so that must translate to opening days for major sports franchises as well, right? No, seriously…right?

Lots o’ rain equals no game

We have better musical taste than you

My friend Olivia is trying to breakout in the music industry by becoming an A&R rep. She is always telling me about all these cool indie bands that nobody's ever heard of. It's to the point where she knows about bands before they're even formed.

This has led to a new guest music column on, titled, “we have better musical taste than you.” All compliments and/or complaints about the music should be fielded to Olivia, who organizes this column. I will provide her personal email address and work number upon request. Enjoy!

Note from Olivia:

To everyone who has ever been disorderly - Bishop Allen: Central Booking

National Women's History Month

Since March is National Women’s History Month, I find it fitting that Bloomberg finally decided to run an introspective and enlightening piece on businesswomen over their global wires this morning, coincidentally, on the last day of March.

In honor of women’s achievements and progression in the corporate world, Bloomberg did a great job of providing an honest and intimate depiction of women in the workplace. The article is set in London, where we meet Victoria Gibbs, a personal assistant to prestigious bank executives. Oh, but that’s just her day job. “By night, she puts on hot pants and high heels, climbs a pole and swings upside down.”

Apparently, businessmen and businesswomen have one and only one equalizing factor: their love of pole dancing. So it doesn’t really matter whether you’re a high-paid call girl or a high-paid executive, all that matters is how well you can work that pole, bitches.

Take some time out of your day to reflect on women’s incredible civil and social achievements during the past ninety years by learning how Gibbs gets loose at the esteemed London Academy of Pole Dancing. The full article (and pictures!) can be found here:

The gift that keeps on giving

Since only one week has passed since Easter, I still find the topic of Easter baskets to be timely and relevant. I don't care whether or not you agree with me.

I just wanted to share this photo with you of my all-time favorite Easter basket. Yes, it is filled with miniature-sized bottles of hard liquor, and yes, I engaged in drinking most of this liquor while my friendly neighbors and God-fearing citizens attended mass on Easter Sunday.

In conclusion, you know how well someone knows you by the type of Easter basket they make for you. Obviously, my friend Olivia knows me a little too well. Give a girl some baseball and booze, and she's all set for one hell of an Easter.

Dear Daily Nuzzo

As a provider of universal truth, I’m somewhat obligated to provide occasional guidance to my wayward and somewhat ignorant audience. Therefore, I’ve created a dedicated column for this exact purpose. I welcome you to the first installment of ‘Dear Daily Nuzzo.’

Dear Daily Nuzzo,
I’ve come across an ethical dilemma. I was riding on the subway the other day, and in comes a woman – cute, young, and slight bulge in lower belly. Do I assume this woman is pregnant and jump up to give her my seat and risk offending a nice girl who has been filling in a void in her life with girl scout cookies? Or do I remain seated, taking the chance of forcing a mother-to-be to stand?

Dear Commuter,
Full disclosure: I’m a strong believer in chivalry. In my opinion, all able-bodied men should give up their seat for a lady, so I don’t think it would be rude if you did. She just might think that you’re hitting on her, which you probably are anyway. So win-win.

Otherwise, I’d look for a wedding ring. If she’s wearing one, it’s a good possibility that she is indeed pregnant. And even if she’s not pregnant, she probably has to go home to a husband that doesn’t fully appreciate her inner beauty– so you giving up a seat for her could be the highlight of her day, or even her week. But please, pleas refrain from asking her how many months along she is.

Friday, March 28

Stop Snitchin' and Start Shopping

I know a majority of dailynzzo readers are also active gang members, so this post's for you!

Hey readers, why limit your daily gang apparel to just bandanas, heavy diamond chains and large tattoos? Whether you’re a Blood or a Crip, several stores in Brooklyn have just the thing for you: licensed Yankees gear branded with your official gang signs and colors!

Yes, boys and girls, Opening Day is a mere three days away. No longer will you have to choose between wearing your “Stop Snitching” tee shirt or your Yankees jersey when you go out to see the Bronx Bombers. Now you can do both…at once!

Wanna know how? Why, just read this extremely detailed NY Daily News article on where to pick up the goods. But don’t get any crazy ideas now. We all know that the Mets would never allow for this sorta thing. Besides, who’s a Mets fan anyway?

It's Going Down, Brah

Each Friday, I'll post my suggestions for interesting things to do over the weekend. Please keep in mind that this does not include ordering a square pie from Rizzos, picking up a six pack and watching La Bamba and Major League on DVD. I think my readers have enough sense to know that this is inherently implied. I don't need to patronize you.

Built by Wendy is having a sample sale at their Williamsburg location:

Catch the tail-end of Brooklyn Restaurant Week - $23 for a three-course meal at some great spots. I recommend applewood in Park Slope. You can find a full list of participating restaurants here:

If you want to dance to British pop hits (hey, some people do) check out Trash NYC’s weekly Friday night parties: Stop by the Crocodile Lounge on 14th street afterwards if you want some free pizza:

Other Stuff
Rents in NYC could finally be going down, as long as you don’t live in Manhattan (obvi):

And yes, this is the best business card of all time:

Thursday, March 27

You Know You're Drunk When...

My friends and I have contemplated running a blog that is solely dedicated to identifying standard characteristics associated with being drunk. While I am all for this idea, the slave-drivers over at dailynuzzo frown upon moonlighting.

Well, I’ve decided that I can dedicate a column every now and again to this topic, so please send me any “you know you’re drunk when [complete blank here]” incidents and I’ll post a round-up story.

Since I’m a narcissist, I’m not going to provide details on any of my own embarrassing intoxication stories. Instead, I’ll just tell you stories about other people. Here goes:

This morning, I was awoken at 5:21 a.m. by a phone call from a strange number with a 917 area code. Of course, I didn’t pick up, and prayed prayed, prayed that they would leave a voicemail. Well, Lord, my prayers have been answered.

Exact transcript of the voice message follows:

Hey danielle, this is john. met you in the emerald a couple of weeks ago…and I was a little bit drunk and I totally fell in love with you. And just wondered if you want to meet up. Give us a call back. Love to see you again…miss you a lot. Give us a call. Anytime.

Now, re-read this passage aloud, but this time, say it using a heavy Irish brogue. That should give you a clearer picture of my experience this morning.

While I am guilty of frequenting the Emerald Pub, mainly due to the fact that I don’t pay for drinks since my friend shamelessly flirts with the bartender and tells her that she looks like Lindsay Lohan, I am not guilty of passing out my phone number to this Irish “John.” I find the whole incident beyond disturbing, especially since he refers to himself in the plural tense. I have no idea where he got my number, unless he got it from our bartender friend – yes, we’re that close – and if that is the case, she will have some explaining to do. Yeah, I’m talking to you Veronica.

So, in conclusion, you know you’re really drunk when you call a stranger at 5:00 a.m. on a Tuesday night because you just can’t wait to tell them how you fell in love with them and that you really, really miss them.

Who's Your Daddy?

In an unprecedented move, Rite Aid will now sell over-the-counter paternity tests in California, Oregon and Washington. According to today’s NY Times article, this “appears to be the first time a DNA test is being sold through a major phamacy chain.”

Which is good news for my fly-ass dope lady friends over on da west coast. Not so chill for all those broke-ass dead beat playas who just trying to get they own.

Another downside to all of this is the inevitable decline of established experts in the medical field of paternity testing. What will Jerry Springer, Montel Williams and Maury Povich do now?

Wednesday, March 26

Big Dirty

Today, the NY Times reported on a new study from the Straphangers Campaign on the cleanliness of the
New York City subway lines. And by golly, you are in for quite the shocker. Are you sitting down? Wait for it – wait for it - the E line took home the prize for the dirtiest, filthiest subway line known to man (gasp!). What a surprise. As one who is very familiar with the E train (not by choice), I cannot even attempt to count the times that I’ve had to fight back waves of nauseousness due to the smell, usually a combination of rotten milk and human feces.

According to the article, “wet, sticky spots on the train floor, chicken bones, nut shells, spilled coffee, hot dogs and ‘lots and lots of rolling bottles’ often greet subway passengers who travel on the E and the Q trains.” If I had to step over half-eaten hot dogs and peanut shells, I wouldn’t be so disturbed. But what they forgot to mention is the abundance of muggers, pick-pocketers and all-out crazies who favor this particular line. Perhaps there is a connection between cleanliness and criminality?

And now here’s the real twist – the L train was voted the cleanest line in NYC. Who would have thunk it? I guess all of those white hipsters living in Bushwick learned how to properly dispose of garbage during their boarding school days. From now on, I’m taking the bus.

Tuesday, March 25


As a form of procrastination at work, or possibly as a minor obsession, my friend Greg and I often check-up on one of our 'favorite' journalists - the esteemed Lenore Skenazy, columnist for the New York Sun. What's that you say, the New York Sun? Yes, it is still in circulation for all those right-wing fascists who want to supplement their daily Fox Business Network viewing with a bit of light-hearted reading. Anywho, good ol' Lenore is always one to please her audience, and therefore is always searching for the most groundbreaking and innovative story ideas. As someone who works with the media on a daily basis, I know how important it is to break out of the box and write about a controversial or new topic that will not only gain page views, but will also challenge and stimulate the mental capacity of a reader. Therefore, Lenore uses the ProfNet system.

For all of you who are not familiar with the ProfNet system, it's really quite simple. A journalist signs up to the service, writes a brief description about the story he or she is working on and includes information on their deadline, method of contact, etc. It's a pretty lazy way of putting journalists in contact with the sources they quote in their story.

Lenore seems to be a BIG fan of ProfNet, using the service to occasionally solicit sources, but mainly as an outlet to vent about the everyday grind along with her personal gripes. For instance, the week before Superbowl Sunday, Lenore sent a request to speak to "men." But not just any man, specifically those who "throw up their hands and yell at the TV....Why do guys do that?" I can just imagine how tense it must be to watch the big game in the Skenazy household.

And then there was today. Today is what set all other days apart, in terms of Lenore's quest for journalistic excellence. Today, she posted this:

Topic: PARENTING/TODAY: I Left My Son at Bloomingdale's to Find His Way Home Alone in NYC -- New York Sun

My son kept begging for the chance to be "left" somewhere so he could figure out the subway and bus he'd need to make his way home. So on a sunny day two weeks ago, I left him at a Bloomie's perfume counter here in New York, with a MetroCard and $20 for emergencies. Naturally, he made his way, no problem (we live in Manhattan). He was happy, I was happy; but some friends think this was tantamount to child abuse. Since New York City is as safe as it was in 1963, I don't see why we keep our kids penned up as if this is Baghdad. But I'd like to hear your thoughts on whether we baby our kids too much. Contact: Lenore Skenazy,

That's when I knew that there was something more to Lenore than just her clever columns and humorous banter. The woman is openly admitting to child abuse and is seeking approval and acceptance from complete strangers for this legally punishable crime.

According to Wikipedia, Lenore has two children - a 3-year old and a 5-year old. Let's just give her the benefit of the doubt and say she let the 5-year old go on a Home Alone-like walking tour of midtown Manhattan. Most people wouldn't let their 5-year old kid walk to the next-door neighbors' house, yet alone travel across New York City on a crime-ridden mass transit system. But don't worry, this toddler was armed with a MetroCard AND $20! All systems go, people!

Due to my disdain for outright child abusers, I'll stop reading Lenore's column in the NY Sun.
As much as it pains me to do so, I may even stop sending along her ProfNets to Greg on a daily basis, which always proved to serve up a good laugh. But one thing I will do, is dedicate this posting: "To the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore - nameless here for evermore."

Monday, March 24

The First Post - Soon to be a collector's item!

After much procrastination and subsequent fits of hysteria, the dailynuzzo blog is up and running. Tune in daily to find interesting* articles, photos and my thoughts on worldly affairs. I hope you enjoy this blog as much as I loathe coming up with things to put on it.

Interactively yours,

*interesting in the eyes of the blogging beholder