It's only been three columns and Post dating authority Mandy Stadtmiller is already pulling out the "what about married guys" material. Next week: "Why are all the good ones gay?" [NYP]

Um, as long as you continue to cover her, probably not.

The Post has a little fun at Cosmo's expense today, listing ten of the magazine's most common "boundary-pushing moves" and asking a collection of New York men how they feel about the sex tips. Not consulted? Our very own resident "sexpert" My Cock. We ran the list by him and got his reaction.

• Dow Jones executives met with Ron Burkle and MySpace founder Brad Greenspan, who would like to buy the Wall Street Journal but will not, because Rupert Murdoch's gonna get it. [NYT]
  

Amazonian comedienne Mandy Stadtmiller's dating column debuted in yesterday's Post, and it proves yet again that men are only after one thing. Mandy meets a handsome, motorcycle-driving Lothario on MySpace who she nicknames "Trouble," and chemistry ensues. But, as is the way in this love-starved city, romance never lasts.

Earlier this week, a number of local freelance photojournalists received a curious email from New York Post photo editor David Boyle. It started by saying that the paper pays its freelance photographers "based on experience and equipment." Then Boyle went on to say that the paper was doing an "equipment audit," and as such, needed all of its freelancers to come in—with all of their equipment—to be inspected by Boyle and his deputies. Oh, and Boyle also wanted these photographers—who, remember, have presumably already been shooting for the Post—to "carry out a simulated assignment." The photogs who received this missive were, predictably, not amused; one photojournalism blog ranted, "What the hell does the fact that YOU are going to an equipment audit have to do with calling in freelancer's gear, unless you think they stole from you when you were practicing your home team cheers from days gone by and weren't minding the store?" Good point! The email follows.

Page Six refers to Jennifer Aniston's boyfriend, model Paul Sculfor, as "Paul Colford"—who is director of media relations for the Associated Press, and who used to write for the Daily News. [Page Six]

The New York Post today fronts a photo of golfer Tiger Woods with his smoking-hot wife and new daughter Sam. While commending Woods for releasing the pictures without seeking remuneration, the paper is totally confused about his offspring's ethnicity.

Today NBC's Matt Lauer participated in a conference call with journalists about the Dateline interview he did recently with Prince William and Prince Harry, and about the Concert for Diana that NBC is broadcasting on Sunday. But some journalists didn't want to play along—they kept asking him pesky questions about whether he'd gotten the interview with the princes because the network had ponied up $2.5 million for the rights to air the concert. Not surprisingly, Lauer denied it.

Here is how the Post's Kati Cornell is reporting about Laura "JT Leroy" Albert's testimony in her defense against charges that she defrauded Antidote films by implying that a transgender teen truck stop hooker wrote her books: "'I didn't want my name . . . I could have my character come out. But when that's gone and there's nobody but 'Fat Albert,' there's no place to go,' the busty writer told her lawyer, Eric Weinstein." Yuck. But maybe Kati is just trying to be reassuring! After all, Laura's whole defense seems to be that she was fat as a kid and got teased and that this caused her to have split personalities, one of whom just happened to be a writer with incredibly marketable sob story. Calling her "busty" might be Kati's way of trying to help Laura heal her psychic wounds. What a shining example of how ladies, even ladies who pose as girl-boys to sell books and ladies who pose as misogynistic men to sell newspapers, can stick together!

Our favorite Post harpie isn't one to toot her own horn. In fact, if there's anything she despises more than sluttery, it's narcissism: "For the first time in his miserable "Me! Me! Me!" existence, Peter Braunstein looked mad. And more than a little afraid." Later: " It's not about "Me." But in the midst of all this, Andrea manages to subtly work in a mention of another "me": herself.

Expect an expanded Page Six, as up-market advertisers prove willing—so long as they're not placed near dong-enlargement enticements—to shop their wares in the gossip section. [NYT]

"SPEAKING of fathers who had it tough, how about the father of our country: In 1776, the 30,000 British troops that fought George Washington and his overmatched army in New York City was, until D-Day, the largest naval attack force in history. Thousands and thousands of New York rebels perished in the battle." [NYP]

Not since the famous 1997 graphic explaining the conflict in Northern Ireland with a comparison to the troubles between sitcom characters Seinfeld and Newman (with a balaclava-wearing Jerry Seinfeld representing the IRA and an orange-decked Newman as the UDA) has the Post made an intractable struggle so easy to understand. We finally get it! If only that whole Hamas-Fatah thing could just be scored to Journey and go to dead air.

Post honcho Col Allan knows what you are typing at your desks. He knows what you are emailing. In his mind, he is already screaming at you. And then there's this:

Today's Post notes that the New York Yankess are 9-2 since the stunning revelation that Alex Rodriguez was getting some on the side. The paper semi-facetiously suggests that they deserve some of the credit, seeing as it was their fine organ of journalism that exposed A-Rod's a-dultery. It's an interesting theory and one that, if true, offers up some tantalizing possibilities for metro-area sports fans. We're certainly not endorsing the idea, mind you, but maybe Giants quarterback Eli Manning should get married and start cheating on his wife as soon as possible before the season starts. The SuperBowl may be just one errant screw away!

"My dog Mushy," Post Bronx Criminal Correspondent Denise Buffa reported yesterday, "a 100-pound Italian mastiff, died yesterday after an encounter with an electrified light pole - and I'm confronted with official bumbling and denials over what happened. ... How many dogs - or people - will die before the city and Con Ed make its electrical system safe?" Our deepest sympathies go out to Ms. Buffa, and we'd like some answers from Con Ed too, especially now that they've killed again. Extra points for going above and beyond the call of duty: We have a hard time believing that if our canine companion was in his death throes we'd be able to summon the whatnots to call a friend from work and say, "Hey, you wanna come take a picture of this?"

"The short, troubled life of a drug-dealing Harlem midget came to a violent end yesterday when he was gunned down while guzzling beer and shooting dice outside a housing project." [NYP]

New York Post changed a wire story from the LAT about an LA "detox doctor" so much that they opened themselves up to legal action from the doctor—and the LAT gloats. [LA Observed]

Pity poor Post reporter Jeremy Olshan. Not only does he have a low sperm count, he's being forced by his employer to blog about it. He's only two posts into describing his and his wife's quest to get knocked up via IVF, but he already seems to have mastered the oversharey, unnecessary-detail-filled art of blogging. He's not afraid to go there! And by 'there,' we mean, "into a detailed description of attempting to inject his wife's upper outer thigh with drugs, and failing."