McFired!

Here I was, all ready to start my bitchy blog dissing other advice columnists, and what do I do? I go and get my ass fired! Canned! Dismissed!

I’ve been writing “Dategirl,” a sex and love advice column for the beleaguered New York Press for the past two-plus years. (I’ve been writing an alternate version for the Seattle Weekly for about five years, but they keep paying me, therefore, I love them.) There have been a couple editorial upheavals at the Press since I started, but somehow, I knew instinctively that this latest one wouldn’t bode well for me.

For one thing, Harry Siegel, the new blogger-turned-editor-in-chief appeared to have very little editorial experience. Sure, he’d researched an ass-licker of a book on Giuliani that his daddy had written, but other than that, his only experience was writing editorials for the only paper in New York less-read than the Press, the New York Sun.

The unlikely hiring started to make sense when I discovered that Siegel’s daddy is buds with NYP founder Russ Smith. Smith, who’d turned tail and ran back to Baltimore after 9/11’s big scary boom-boom, had sold the paper, but maintained a lucrative contract for his excruciating Andy-Rooney-meets-Bill-O’Reilly-style rants. When it became clear that my editors weren’t planning on renewing this contract, he began a campaign to get rid of them.

Enter Harry Siegel.

Billing himself as a “radical centrist” (a condition I imagine akin to being adamantly ambivalent), young Siegel aimed to turn the paper around. And turn it around he did. One of his first covers was a shocking expose of cocaine users! That was followed by a riveting feature on the fact that crimes committed on poor black people living in poor black neighborhoods don’t get nearly as much news coverage as crimes committed on rich white people, living in rich white neighborhoods. Truly groundbreaking stuff here.

As the paper got more and more embarrassing, I quit picking it up. I’d give my column a once-over online to check for editing errors, collect my meager check (when they bothered to send one) and leave it at that.

Until last week. I noticed there was a new sex advice columnist and she was on the cover, posing in a naughty nurse outfit. I clicked on her column and discovered we were covering the same ground. Nobody had even told me they were in the market for a new sex columnist. I called Harry Siegel and asked him if I had to bust out my dusty French maid uniform. I wondered if I were being replaced and if so, could he just come out and tell me?

Young Harry scoffed at my paranoia and assured me they loved my column and would continue running it indefinitely. He assured me that once I saw a hard copy of the paper, all my fears would be allayed, as her column was buried back in the tranny ads (the rapidly shrinking paper’s main source of income), whereas mine was up front, with the rest of the editorial they “cared” about.

I believed him until I picked up a hard copy of the paper.

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

This broad was on the cover, and even worse—my red-headed stepchild of a column was sandwiched between a tribute to their new writer (illustrated with a photo of her in her underpants) and her debut. Dr. Dot is a massage therapist to the stars (she’s rubbed oil on Def Lepard and Sting!). She’s pretty! She dated Joey Ramone! Like David Hasslehoff, the Germans love her!

Did I mention that she poses in her underpants?

I was afraid that my Irish might come out in full-force if I were to confront Siegel the Squeasel on the phone, so I composed a measured email, basically telling him he was full of shit, but in nicer words, and waited to get fired.

What I got was a long-winded email from one of his lackeys telling me that they had in fact decided to stop running my column. He told me I was wrong for thinking Harry was a lying sack of shit because when he’d promised to keep running my column indefinitely he was telling the truth. It’s just that indefinitely was only 12 hours long.

He then invited me to write a farewell column and promised that it would not be edited for content. We’ll see about that.

Comments

[val frankel]

Ms. Bad Advice:
I love the underpants link. Of course, it was the only one I clicked on.
You was robbed, sister! No panty-assed nurse massage ho can compare to you, and her column will undoubtably suck eggs.
I have a work question, since you're giving the work advice now: My expenses go up, but my income remains the same. Ideas? Short of posing in panties?
Val

[judes]

I am a problem solver, Val. It's my business.
You don't have to pose in your panties, but you can sell them once you've worn them:

http://www.usedbrasandpanties.com/

[Mr. Snuggles]

My condolences, but I assure you it's a blessing in disguise. Doesn't say much for the legitimacy of said rag, their reliance on tranny funds and passive aggressive liberalism. Upset the system. Pelt the Puck Building with rotten eggs 10/31.

[Spyro]

Don't worry - the New York Press went from a newspaper to a pamphlet loosing advertisers by the ton. Soon they will be a flyer then they will be Russ Smith standing on a soapbox in Chelsea pontificating on the good old days - sometimes it's good to be the one thrown off a sinking ship while the RATS stay and drown.

[Dan]

OK, so I actually picked up the NY Press over dinner last night. Not only did they splash the new sex advice columnist all over the cover in her uhhh, underwear, the editor crowed about what a great "find" she was on the inside.

And he apparantly just met her, like, last week! How innnnnteresting.

In between the right-wing George Clooney interview (McCarthy was just misunderstood, riiiight), and the vaguely misogynist girl stripper thingy, I didn't recognize the Press at all. It's become reactionary and has been destroyed. It's like George W. Bush took over.

Leaving a burning building is a good thing, darling, whether you're pushed or not.

[rachel]

I think Dr.Dot looks like she used to be Dr. Dude!

[uberswell]

you and knipfel were the only reasons i read the NYpress. you're a fantastic columnist. they are morons. when the paper folds (and it will fold-these are the worst editorial and staffing changes I ever witnessed at the post)i'll be only too glad.