Poison pen wielder of Skanks in NYC revealed as… Rosemary Port?
Rosemary Port, 29, is the party-girl behind the curtain of now-defunct, legally plagued blogSkanks in NYC.
Port, an unemployed nightclub promoter, is none too pleased with the forcible unmasking and is said to be exploring legal action against Google. (Poor Google, they can’t seem to please anyone in this whole kerfuffle.) Port has retained the services of a lawyer, who spoke to the NY Post about his client’s reaction to the surprising verdict:
Port countered yesterday by hiring hotshot Manhattan lawyer Sal Strazzullo, who said his client doesn’t regret the blog — “she regrets the court’s decision” that her identity should be revealed.
“I’m shocked that my right to privacy has been tampered with,” Port said in a statement.
Strazzullo said Port is “very scared” her name is now public, and “confused” about how a judge could let that happen. “This doesn’t happen to people every day.”
The post couldn’t wrangle a comment out of Port, although her boyfriend charmingly told a reporter “you wish you had my life” as the couple hopped into a car on the Lower East Side. The boyfriend, Daniel Dimin, is apparently the inspiration for the wholeSkanks in NYCdebacle. Port is said to have begun the blog after target Liskula Cohen trash-talked Port to Dimin.
Cohen also had another round of attention from the Post- she was interviewed after opting to drop the $3m defamation suit against Port. And in the article, she seems to be just as nutty as her litigious ways might suggest. When the reporter appears to be noting Cohen’s smoking habit, Cohen flies off the handle:
“My grandmother wouldn’t like it,” she said cutely. I wrote it down. A throwaway line.
Oh. My. God.
In an instant, lovely Liskula turned on me in a sputtering, cursing fury. It was not pretty.
“What are you doing?” she snarled. “Leave my family out of this!
“What do you think — I’m a f- – -ing asshole?” she said, staring straight into my eyes while unleashing a torrent of curses that nearly made me lose my pen.
“That isn’t nice, is it? IS IT?!!” she demanded.
