We do so hope that comedian Paul Mecurio's essay in the New York Times magazine this weekend wasn't just a bit, because if he actually dropped trou in broad Midtown daylight just to teach a surly newsstand guy a lesson in customer service, then we basically worship his batshit crazy self. Could we please borrow him the next time we find ourselves in the godforsaken blackhole of courtesy and common sense that is every single Duane Reade store? [NYTM]

In the mini-dust-up regarding New York Times Grand Inquisitor Deborah Solomon's whimsical approach to journalism and possibly acrobatic use of time and space in an interview with "This American Life" fella Ira Glass, we'd like to note—as the original presenter of these charges in the New York Press did not—that Glass' wife Anaheed Alani is a part-time fact-checker at the Press Times magazine.

The New York Press is carrying a breathless 3,000-word piece today alleging that Deborah Solomon, the awesomely tactless New York Times Magazine Q&A queen, redistributed and flat-out invented questions she hadn't actually asked in final versions of interviews that she conducted with "This American Life" host Ira Glass and advice columnist Amy Dickinson. The subjects cried foul to Press reporter Matt Elzweig, who was until about a year and a half ago a security guard at the Met. The Times was not particularly responsive to his inquiries. Elzweig's piece reads as though he's just discovered White House plumbers in Times executive editor Bill Keller's basement. Instead, the Press has, for the most part, stumbled upon a fairly common editing practice.

This afternoon, a memo went out from New York Times Magazine head Gerald Marzorati. It seems that staffers and freelancers have been flying business and first class while on assignment. Clearly this cannot stand! Although, why not? The magazine and those money-minters T, Play, and Key are raking it in for the business. (Seriously. The issue of T: Women coming out this Sunday is the biggest issue of a Times magazine since 1984. 183.3 pages of ads! Surely that can pay for a flight or two to Milan!) No matter! They have to find some way to pay those juicy word count rates. Approval to fly business class will only be granted after being run past Times Managing Editor John Geddes or Assistant Managing Editor Bill Schmidt. Got that? The full memo follows.

"Another Williams encounter: The mother of twin Williams boys in their late teens opened her door to find on her stoop a leather-clad biker, motorcycle parked at the curb, asking for her sons. The boys had made the biker's acquaintance via C.B. radio and invited him to come by, but they forgot to tell Mom. The biker visited for a spell. Fascinated with how the twins talked about their condition, the biker asked them to speak at his motorcycle club's next meeting. They did. They told the group of the genetic accident underlying Williams, the heart and vascular problems that eventually kill many who have it, their intense enjoyment of talk, music and story, their frustration in trying to make friends, the slights and cruelties they suffered growing up, their difficulty understanding the world. When they finished, most of the bikers were in tears." Us too. This piece on Williams syndrome from the weekend's Magazine is totally worth your time. [NYT]

If you're anything like Gawker Weekend, you were not able to procure tickets for today's "Sunday With the Magazine" festival at the CUNY Graduate Center. The now-annual event—all about the Way We Live Now, starring today's leaders and innovators —is about to get underway, and lucky for those of sitting at home, we can watch some of the action on the Internet. Log on right now to hear Times Magazine humor editor John Hodgman—presumably this person edits the Funny Pages?—interview Ricky Gervais. Like almost everything associated with the Times Magazine, it will probably be really adequate. If you go right now, you can see people in the audience looking at their programs! Later they'll show one with designers Murray Moss and Franklin Getchell and after that, John Edwards with Matt Bai.

It's going to be a warm and sunny weekend, which is a good thing considering that you're not going to be indoors reading the Sunday New York Times. If the Big Three sections (Arts, Books, Mag) are any indication, you'll quickly scan the sports scores and then head out to the park for some ultimate frisbee or whatever. So now we will helpfully describe to you, rapid-fire, what you'll be skipping over so you can sound all smart next week. You're welcome!

"Hey, look what just dropped out of my vagina!"

Occasionally we'll read a story or feature so predictable or flaccid that we'll wonder how hard it could be to write one ourselves. In that spirit, we now debut How Hard Could It Be?, an occasional series in which we actually do write one ourselves. The inaugural topic is the Times Magazine's much-loved True-Life Tales from The Funny Pages.

I'm crouched awkwardly on the floor of Xiyin Tang's Columbia dorm room, peering up at her laptop as she shows me her first blog entries, a 13-year-old Xiyin's musings on Good Charlotte and the perfidy of her friends. A Warhol Marilyn print gazes over our shoulders. "I always find myself more motivated to write things," Xiyin, now 19, explains, "when I know that somebody, somewhere, might be reading it."

Fine, we're immature. But come on, "a taste of forbidden sashimi?"

Now that Balk's gone and that Bouncer guy is busy reading the local papers of every single sad borough, we can indulge our ardent ladyist side without fear of having menstrual/Kate Bush jokes thrown our way every five seconds. Anyway, we soo loved that NYT Mag article about the scary onslaught of Princess product aimed at little girls. (Fave quote: "Maybe it was the dentist's Betty Boop inflection that got to me, but when she pointed to the exam chair and said, "Would you like to sit in my special princess throne so I can sparkle your teeth?" I lost it.") But the writer, Peggy Orenstein, lost us a little bit in her bio — specifically, when we got to the part about the title of her forthcoming memoir: 'Waiting for Daisy: A Tale of Two Continents, Three Religions, Five Infertility Doctors, An Oscar, An Atomic Bomb, A Romantic Night and One Woman's Quest to Become a Mother.'

The one and only correction from yesterday's Times magazine:

Were we the only ones to read Michael Lewis' "The Ballad of Big Mike" in this week's Magazine and feel a little creepy? A little weirded out by the shocking paternalism of the entire thing? The piece centers around Michael Oher, a poor, black Memphian rescued by a rich white family so that he could play football for Ole Miss. (The story actually contains the section head, "A Rich White Family Takes an Interest.")

In case you missed it, there was a fascinating piece in this week's Times Magazine concerning consumption and identity. Rob Walker, the paper's resident expert on consumer behavior, examined three "underground" t-shirt companies in an attempt to explore the significance of branding to hipster youth. This article is well worth your time, providing a perspective on how a new generation negotiates with consumerism. The most important questions raised are these: Can a hipster t-shirt be as incendiary as a rock anthem? Is a cool logo some kind of manifesto? Does shopping for weird new stuff make you subversive?

Did you happen to catch the letters column in yesterday's Times Magazine? Let us call your attention to the second missive:

Times Magazine contributing writer James Traub — upper-middle-brow author of books on Times Square and City College and innumerable articles about Rudy Giuliani — has even greater range than we all thought: Seems he's a metal fan, too.

An interesting piece of mail was waiting when we got home last night:

The lede of yesterday's Times Magazine profile of American Apparel bigshot Dov Charney describes the surroundings in the kinky clothier's Los Angeles office:

And the process of turning Gerry Marzorati from Times Mag editor into something else continues apace. This memo just in from Bill Keller: