A little Friday morning stupidity to get you in the mood for the weekend!

photo by Martha Cooper c/o Gothamist
Okay, so looks like the NYPD didn’t sell your bike on ebay or give ‘em away to kids. Gothamist has word that bike owners can pick them up between the wonderfully convenient hours of 4am and 12pm at the 7th Precinct. But don’t think you can just walk in and claim that Huffy!

We were told that bike owners can appear as early as 4 a.m., and that there is “a special way” of determining that each bike is returned to its lawful owner. Cyclists will be asked to describe their bikes, but the cop who spoke with us said you should also bring a photo of you with the bike.

But here’s the best part. When asked if there were any signs that told cyclists not to lock their bikes up on the President’s route yesterday, a cop responded defensively, saying, “You’re not supposed to lock you bike to signposts anyway, they have those new bike racks you’re supposed to use.”
Fantastic news! That sounds like the NYPD considers itself authorized to steal any bicycle not locked to a city-sanctioned bike rack and bury it fifteen deep on the back of a truck.
Think that rule applies to bikes loaded up on fences at the Waterfront shows? Let’s hope not!

Via Gawker:

Several people report seeing this man around Williamsburg. He wears, says one tipster “a pair of child’s pleather shorts as a headpiece to contain a giant jewfro to give the effect of twin chimneys.” They call him chimneyhead.

Apparently, some of you folks out there have made out with him. Gross.

Assemblyman Joe Lentol, friend of the internet, is going to swim the length of Netwown Creek as a last-ditched mating attempt at getting us some of that Google fiber optic broadband love. So how’s he feel about his pending trip down a seriously polluted waterway?

“Even if I grow a third arm I bet I still wont be faster on the computer than google’s broadband and it will be worth it for all the good this project could bring for the businesses, families, artists, freelancers, students and everyone in between in my district.”

They are nimble little bastards, aren’t they? Just wanted to let you all kno, we’re working on a solution to combat these hustlers trying to sell us Air Jordans. In the meantime, keep your heads above water and try and ignore the spam.

Get out your hair gel, tube tops, and dolla billz. According to Gothamist last night giant spotlights were ‚”rented to herald the arrival of a new lounge called Alma on Roebling and South 3rd.” If you’re curious about what Alma has to offer there are velvet ropes,red carpets, the ability to book VIP birthdays, and most importantly VALET PARKING for all those driving in from Long Island and New Jersey. Their website details the grand opening on ‚”Thrusday” (their misspelling, not ours) where patrons were invited to dress to impress and was invitation only. We can hardly wait for Hookah Fridays and Classic Saturdays. Alma, what the hell were you thinking?
[photo via Alma Facebook Page]

It smells like hope at one bodega on S. 2nd and Havemeyer.
To shamelessly quote myself: “There they are, sandwiched as usual between ‚”Egyptian Musk” and ‚”White Diamond.” Obama Incense sticks, FTW.”
Somebody please go grab a few and tell me what it smells like to be President!

Rusel Parish, a Michael Jackson artist and now leader and spokesperson for the newly arrived Cult of Michael Jackson, is opening a chapel for worshipers on North 6th this Friday, “despite the tragic passing of the object of its obsession.”
With his “years of experience and study working in the image of Michael Jackson through paintings, drawings, and sculpture,” Parish hopes to recruit “believers” to help turn the late singer’s songs into scripture, spread the love, and “move forward with plans” that he’s been working on since 2008. Those plans, I hope, are not apocalyptic, and rather focus on making the world a better place for you and for me.
The Cult of Michael Jackson chapel, located at 168 North 6th Street, will open this Friday, 9/11, at 6pm and stick around through October. Like every good cult’s chapel opening in Williamsburg, they’ll be hosting an after party. It’s at Hope Lounge, with BBQ & drink specials from 9-11. It’s gonna be thrilling.

19-year old model Jocelyn Saldana stripped down to her skinnies for 22-year old photographer Zach Hyman on the L train last month, and made an elderly man get the shakes. Also, a woman screamed. You’d think this would pique the interests of the NYPD, which doesn’t really like L train antics. But, as of yet, Hyman hasn’t had any troubles. He notes, “I have a clean record, so I’m open to the experience of getting arrested.” Ah, the experience.
Rest easy, Hy-dog. A night in the tombs is kinda like performance art, if you look at it enough.
SLIGHTLY NSFW photo after the jump:

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Billy Mays found dead at age 50 in his home at 7:45 AM. Apparently he died in his sleep, no break-in, and no foul play is suspected. The day before his death he’d been on a plane that blew out its tires and said he got hit in the head with a few things, but there were no serious injuries reported and it’s not clear if his death was at all related.
Well, I’ll always know what I was doing when I found out Billy Mays died: Reading about how Michael Jackson died.
via eonline