I can promise you one thing...I do not go to Pratt

Mikey dragged me along to a Mud Wrestling Party @ Galapagos last Friday night. After the girls competition ended the organizers got down and dirty.





And after the organizers got down and dirty, everybody else did too:







After everyone else got down and dirty and a very down and a very dirty Ninja Sonik played:





While I was filming my decidedly amaturish video with my digital camera weird creeper dudes kept coming up to me trying to talk to me or vibe me through the camera. It was totally weird. Some schmuck tried to give me his fucking card and start a conversation with me while I was trying to film. Umm...sorta busy ya think?

Whatever, the creeper factor made the night more hilarious. Apparently there is a certain level of mystique attached to the only chick not covered head to toe in mud at a mud wrestling party. My ass wasn't getting anywhere near that swimming pool even though the organizers tried to get Mikey to recruit me by offering him free drinks all night if I wrestled. Hardly dude. I'm not 19, I don't go to Pratt, and I don't look like a walking American Apparel ad (nor did I bare my tits in the most recent issue of Vice like some of these fine ladies did.) Mind you I am not hating, obviously as a spectator I can't. Without mud wrestling lasses I wouldn't have had that much fun and actually the ladies involved in the actual competition were pretty fucking serious and could have 100% kicked the shit out of me hands down. For all my posturing I am a pussy and don't want a face full of mud. Too old for that shit, right?



The whole scene was kind of a mess anyway. I swear to god there was a press section around the whole set up, two kiddie pools filled with mud. I didn't even bother taking pictures during the actual competition since I am sure someone else somewhere else has already blogged them far more competently.

However, major highlight of the night was this:



The chick in the hat...amazing. And the dude with the mohawk trying to draw me in with his captivating love stare. He tried to come up to me and talk to me later on and I literally turned and ran. Which sucked because the floor was wet and I almost fell on my ass. The dude on the right behind him in the olive shirt is the guy who tried to give me his card while I was filming. It ended up on the ground covered with mud. I kind of wish I still had it, I am dying to check out his events promotion website. I bet it...umm...rules?

The referee whistle is now on my living room floor. Nice touch.

Turn the phrase

I am outlawing the following:

-interweb
-blogosphere (especially offensive when used in conjunction with the above)
-"burst onto the scene" especially when referring to musical groups or fashion designers


More to come.

Hey there lonely one...

I find what I crave in the details.
















Thank you Christopher Bailey.

It's been done and it will keep being done. The shapes on the runway didn't interest me. Burberry has never fit me quite right. In the dream worlds I'd inhabit roaming from floor to floor when I couldn't quite stand to work during my days at Barneys I was never that drawn to the pieces on the rack either. I'd spend far more time slipping into Dries Van Noten knitwear or the prohibitively expensive Ann Demeulemeester (even with sale prices of 75% off and an employee discount on top of that it was hopeless) than any of other designers. Accessories, forget it. Not once did I buy a designer bag as a BNY employee and my only jewelry options were on the 7th floor, a far cry from the glory located on floor one.

Still, a girl can dream and a girl can wait for the inevitable knock-offs of that solid metal spiked cuff. The feathers I'll have to do without.

Fuck...I'm an idiot

I had my comments disabled for the past couple of weeks dating back to my Save Eddie post. Not that anyone probably wanted to post on here, but even if they had they couldn't.

I like it when people comment though, it makes me feel like a little less of a loser. It's flattering to know that people waste their time on my idiocy every now and then. I waste plenty of mine on everyone else's.

Really?

Ice-T is 50 years old today.



Wow. 20-somethings, I want you to imagine for a moment that this man was your father. And that, Coco (who is "28"...ahahahaha!) was your stepmother...

Umm...dad?

I was invited through my roommate at the time's boyfriend's friend to the Stuff Magazine Halloween party in 2002 or 2003. I was dressed as a ghost mod and had to endure being humped by a guy in a gumby costume on the dance floor. But it was all worth it when the one celebrity showed up. Ice-T dressed as a vampire-pimp (well really, every costume he's probably ever had is fill-in-the-blank hyphen pimp.) Coco was with him of course and I couldn't tell what she was dressed up as, a slutty maid perhaps (again, every costume she's probably ever had is slutty space fill-in-the-blank.) She started chatting with me as she stood behind me in the bathroom line and I didn't know how to respond. I just kept staring at her tits, her man-face, and then when she turned around to wave at someone, that ass. It was seriously the craziest ass on a white girl I have ever seen. Hands down, bar none.

I love a man who knows how to accessorize

The diamond handcuffs are a nice touch. Actually, you know, I would almost wear that. Fuck...I need to cut out my tongue for saying that or cut off my fingers for typing that. No one should ever wear anything touched by the MindFreak. Ugh. Sorry, I feel myself slipping.

I've never been this amused by anyone's beard. Ever. I wish the girl who got the Criss Angel tattoo would go and get this beard added to it. So much more wizard.

Best Tattoo Ever

Best Week Ever posted a photo of some douchechick who got Criss Angel tattooed on her.



Okay, so this involves me admitting I watch Millionaire Matchmaker but...this made me think of when this douchebag Ed Hardy landing strip chinned millionaire went on a date with a sassy blonde. She commented on his skull flair and said, "You've got sort of a Criss Angel Mindfreak vibe." He looked slightly alarmed. "But he bagged Cameron Diaz and she's hot." His eyes brightened happily. Indeed. Hot. Holy fuck.

Some people...

My Life: As It Was, As It Is, As It Always Will Be.

Oh the people I've known, the places I've been, and the sights I have seen in reasonably chronological order.

Let's do battle with Sabretooth!

Went to three metal shows in three days this weekend. Friday night was my friend Stella's birthday and after seeing Bloodhorse (mighty heavy) at Lost and Found we ended up in the shithole to end all shitholes...aka Brooklyn's most ridic metal bar, Duff's. Now I understand the reflex to support this place, Duff is indeed genuine in his enthusiasm for all things metal but the atmosphere ends up being cringe-inducing most nights because unfortunately "all things metal" equal no edit mechanism.

Regardless, shit talk aside, that's where we ended up and if nothing else, the weekend warrior metal crowd is always entertaining. Usually made up of older dudes and about three chicks, there is nothing hip or pretentious about them, however the reliance on shock value is a little yawn because really? Who are you gonna freak out at the metal bar? Other metalheads? That's always been my laughing asshole response to that place, until holy fuck...we met MUGOTU.

Stella stumbles in first, goes to the bar, kisses the female bartender, obvs a friend, and orders seven shots of Jameson for the lot of us (minus myself, the sober observer) who all drove over crammed into a compact car. I try and sneak around side of her because she is standing next to the most genius metal dude I've ever seen. Frantic I break out the cell phone and text my friend Brendan, the one person who would fully appreciate this situation, the sighting...that rare beast. "Holy shit. I am in the presence of a real live juggalo right now."

I try to be sly about it, a photo is totally necessary. With his spiral curls and evil clown makeup and floor length black skirt, this dude is begging for immortality and I am too much of a puss to just ask him to pose so I try and take a pic of Stella in front of him as a ruse except at the exact moment I am creeping around front of the bar to snap her standing in front of him she looks over her shoulder and with a start notices him (somehow she was previously unawares.) She jumps and shakes her head, backing away, shot in hand. I walk up to her and say, "Dude, Stella, you gotta go over and stand by that guy so I have an excuse to take his picture." Stella goes above and beyond the call of duty in her drunkeness and walks up to him to introduce herself.





Emboldened by our attention, Aryn (I think that was his name...) kisses our hands in greeting leaving a black greasepaint stain (somehow still visible on my hand four days later...and I've showered...twice.)



Stella finds his hilarious and grabs him by the cheeks planting a kiss square on his mouth.

The results were...umm...wow:



After this Stella finds some dude on the outside porch to give her a birthday joint, the crew I am with gets progressively louder and drunker and somewhere along the line I exploit the drunk girl vibe and take some video footage of Stella telling everyone she loved us but we needed to fuck off while she unsuccessfully tries to light a roach.

Our new friend wanders outside for some more lady loving and tells us about his upcoming battle with Sabretooth at the Anti-Valentines Day Ball. "Sabretooth? Like the X-Men villain?" we ask. "Oh, he's only one of the primary figures in the underground goth community." Oh...that Sabretooth. Doy.




Upon later investigation it seems that Sabretooth is not a person according to their MySpace Profile, but so much more: "SABRETOOTH was founded in August of 1995 by Sebastiaan T. Van Houten “Thee Tod Father” as small fangsmithing business at the New York Renaissance Faire. After moving to NYC in 1996 and hosting LONG BLACK VEIL and THE VAMPYRE BALL for many years, in such legendary clubs as THE LIMELIGHT, MOTHER, and THE BANK, SABRETOOTH has evolved into a world renowned production company. Today, SABRETOOTH is continuing to bring you the original quality, soul and passion of dark decadence with a new vigor and attitude!!!" Sign me up! Also featured on their MySpace page is an informative blog with features such as, "DISCLAIMER ON THE REALITIES OF BLOOD DRINKING"

Back to our friend. He senses his unwelcome presence on the porch but is not ready to give up hope entirely. We are probably the first girls who have paid him any mind outside of a BDSM presentation in months. He tells us he is an "equal opportunity lover" and then tells us to look him up on MySpace under his goth name, "Mugotu, like Mugatu from Zoolander but with an 'o'." Well I looked him up and unfortunately, as I had figured by our conversation he was not a juggalo at all. And he's pushing 40 (yum!)