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January 6, 2004 #
Somehow this got lost in the great shuffle of posting things in a time-relevant manner but as they say at the clinic, better late than never... So apparently Donny Deutsch has dealt with the blow of losing something long before his group's failed New York Magazine bid and whenever I read about him I think of a couple things:  "I eat protein-enhanced ass for breakfast every morning." 1) All his public boasting of his kick-ass bod. My friend's boss had an encounter with Double-D at a party and he always reminds everyone who has "the best arms in the business." He sure looks like one buffy guy, but does he rip hearts out of people's chests and suck the blood from vampires too? In the past he has made blanket challenges to all advertising CEO's at any sort of fighting competition. I'm guessing he's got a head shot on a Wheaties box in his office next to a signed photo still of Schwarzenegger in Pumping Iron. Okay buddy, how about a "groin-tug-of-war"? 2) I would say this is priceless but there's already a sum of money attached to it. Please turn off your cellphone (unless you're just taking pictures) and take a ride on the Jitney back to Summer 2001, the quick fleck in time when some of us normally po' folk were cash rich enough to trash Montauk on the weekends. Besides watching a girl drink a whole bottle of Glenlivet and then almost set herself aflame in a Ditch Plains bonfire, my favorite memory was a news clipping we kept on the fridge. It was a full page ad in Dan's Papers offering a $10,000 reward for a lost terrier named "Remi."  My friends and I concocted a plan to rescue "Remi" and blow the reward money on helicopter rides for our weekly East End commute. As it turns out, Donny Deutsch was the fat-cat dog owner offering some serious bow-wow booty. But sadly, Donny's pooch was never found. Whereabouts remain unknown but SUV roadkill victim or bizarre boating accident are likely. Of course, the bigger tragedy in all this was the fact my friends and I were still stuck taking the LIRR with the rest of the hoi polloi. The breviloquence of this pithy "tag" on the station wall says it all. 
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