Out of Africa

Angela, Audrey, and I went to an Afro-Carribean street fair in front of BAM on Sunday. It was the first day I was feeling remotely better from my second resurgence of the swine flu. We came expecting to find this guy:


He was pictured in the advert on BAM's website but unforunately the only fabric vendors were pretty unimpressive. Most of the places in Harlem have better selections.

Still we had a grand old time. Drinking out of coconuts and perusing jewelry. I discovered bean pie and bought some sweet leather earrings.


Audrey and I bought matching rings.


Segregation is finally over! Southern lady friend tattoos.


Dude on stilts. No big deal.


I know a few people who belong at the Jerk Center...(Audrey isn't one)


The scene


Jewelry booth, Audrey looked like the cutest power lesbian ever.


Lightswitch covers


Extreme purse


This booth was pumping out the best of tunes.

Audrey took some pictures too:

Modeling the earrings I bought, they matched the extreme purse.


This guy was hawking cakes (I bought a bean pie from his stand) by telling everyone, "My red velvet is chocolate baby." Nice.

How am I? Do you really want to know?

So I survived a nine-day stint with the swine flu. The bus on the way to pharmacy was traumatic. School kids making fun of me, so taxed I wanted to punch one of them in the face. An especially fat one bragging about how he would go into the city and cough on people to make them think they were being infected. I survived the bus ride temper intact and got a bottle of Codeine cough syrup for my troubles.

When children are tormenting you it sucks because you are essentially powerless. What are you going to do? Fight an 11 year-old? No, you just have to take it. Because if you start a fight with a child you'll always lose. Sean told me a story about his friend who was being tormented by some kid on her block. She fought back and punched him in the face. When he instantly started crying she realized that this teen must be much younger than he looked. Instead of the seventeen year-old she'd guessed him to be turns out he was thirteen. His mother started freaking out at her and she had to avoid the second half of her block for fear of an angry mama out to kick her ass.

The only way to win a fight with a kid is to go directly to the mother which I used to do when I was 18 and living on my own for the very first time. I lived on an especially dicey block in Columbia, MO. These little kids would bug the shit out me, asking me if I was in porn, asking me if I was a slut and fucking my male roommate, asking me if I was a witch (I had dyed black hair and my roommate was goth) and all sorts of shit. I appealed to their mother and together we'd fuck with her son, I'd threaten to tell on him and she'd yell out "are you bothering our nice neighbor again?" and psyche him out. Eventually the porn inquiries stopped which is nice because having a ten year old ask you if your pussy is in any magazine is pretty goddamn disturbing.

But sometimes you have no power as to whether you win or lose. When you are riding your bike on Hewes Street in pink hot pants in the dead of summer and four kids start pelting you with vegetable matter it's hard not to talk some shit. But unfortunately calling the kids little assholes increases their wrath and suddenly, fuck you get hit in the ribs with what seems to be a peeled potato. One vicious bruise later I learned that giving up and running away is pretty much the only option. Kids are fucking scary.

Porked

I got the swine flu.

No seriously I did and it sucked. I told Vice all about it instead of you. Oops. Sorry bros.

Tangled up in Court

On Friday I went to see Louise Sturge's opening at lovely Lisa and Nicole's lovely Court. I wrote a little number about it/her for the Vice Blog and boy, people sure didn't like it. I guess being stoked about things isn't what the readership wants. After all, I am participating in a publication that, for a long time, fostered a mentality of celebration by negation. But come on, sometimes it's a-okay to be just plain stoked about someone and some of the things that someone is doing and want to share it. I have two options as a blogger of life as I live it, to bitch or to applaud. I do a whole lot of the former and that seems to be quite popular (ahem...Orin...) but every once in the while I like to engage in the latter.

I'm actually pretty lucky, these were the first mean comments I got on their blog. And after the Alaska fiasco I can happily say they aren't the worst by any means.

ANYWAY, I went to Louise's opening. I had fun. Her photos are beautiful. She is rad. And I didn't get ANY pictures of her all night...what the hell?


Hottest hostess


I tried to take a picture of Brendan's puppy but he started licking his crotch. Like father, like son.


Bros...you know, just chillin in Nolita...


Doesn't it look like someone just said something really awkward?


Custom Besos Y Fotos candy...the stuff of dreams (and blue tongues)


See...blue tongue lady!


Remington Steele!


Yeah dude...


Aww...I just wanna post pictures of the two cutest things of the evening!


Glen testing out the chick magnet


Sorta.

Okay so I guess these photos are more of small handful of people hanging out in front of the opening than of the actual opening itself. Oops! I can't resist when there is a puppy (or a Lisa or an Audrey or my baby) around.

For a way better pictorial summation of the event go HERE

Ummm

Oh yeah, I have a blog don't I?

So what's been going on with me?


I witnessed a homosexual gang rape in the Calvin Klein window.


I saw the happiest van in Williamsburg.


I posed pretty much naked in a shoot with Angela Boatwright. The pictures with be made very public very soon. But don't worry, no beaver shots. However, I did find these hilarious heart-shaped aviators while on set.


I ate a lot of Nebraskan food with Glen.


I met the cutest puppy ever, Remy, at the Tangled Up in Blue opening.

I'll write for real posts about the last three things very soon. I caught a very brutal flu this week and have been laid out. Gotta keep up my strength for the Cult of Youth show tonight at Wierd!!!

Someone buy these please

Because they won't fit me:




Only $24.99

You've got 28 hours left.

Sometimes I like it easier

Nikki Lane and Pete Molinari played country tunes at K&M. I DJed after. I like country music a whole bunch but only have about 30 minutes worth of DJ-able tunes on my Ipod. Thankfully the crowd didn't leave when I switched to Judas Priest. Note to self: Dead Moon is the best band to bridge country and psychedelic metal.


Back-up babes


Pete Molinari




Nikki


Nikki and Joe. I love this picture.








After telling us every song other song wasn't about Joe, Nikki and Joe played some tunes together. Inspiration in it's own way.

I took video of Pete's and Nikki's sets. Unfortunately the vids of Pete didn't make the transfer from camera to hard drive and got erased. I'll upload some snippets of Miss Lane's performance later. In the meanwhile you can listen to her tunes on her MySpace and Pete's here

Fail

Officially added to the list of things we shouldn't say on the internet and even more so in real life. Ugh.

Gossip Girl

Wow...okay...I will officially start this off by calling my boyfriend Sean a hero. I dragged him to the Tribeca Grand Hotel for a screening of the 80s flashback episode of Gossip Girl last night. I watched the first season because my friend Meredith was the assistant stylist and a few friends were extras. Plus my friend Abigail's clothing line, Lorick was featured as Blair's mom's designs. I don't watch it anymore. I gave up. Something about breathlessly watching the dramas of Manhattan teenagers unfold makes me feel dirty. I understand the appeal and yeah, yeah Chuck Bass is a rad character. You know, before they were famous, literally weeks before the first episode aired, I saw Chace Crawford and Ed Westwick at the Cast's fashion show at the St Mark's Church. They were ahead of me in the bathroom line. I recognized them because Meredith, my friend who worked on the show, had shown us the pilot episode. She had warned us that this show was guaranteed to be huge and we enjoyed the camp. Plus the kids were a lot naughtier in the pilot, smoking weed on the street and doing all sorts of fun illegal kid things before the network stepped in and put on the brakes.

Anyway, so I recognized them. They were both totally short but good-looking enough. No one knew who they were yet so no girls were screaming or swooning. They were guests of the show's stylists and just looked sorta lost. Anyway, back to the bathroom line. Now I can't verify a damn thing and I know this ain't a gossip blog, but seriously. One of the two went in first and spent forever in there. When he finally came out he passed something via handshake to the other and then other dude spent forever in the bathroom. I was annoyed but also proud of these little future stars, doing what appeared to most likely be blow in the bathroom of a church at the onset of fashion week. It actually made me want to watch the show before I got overwhelmed with trying to keep up.

So last night we went to the screening. Sean had never seen a single episode and I have no idea what's going on this season apart from the teasers I see when I watch Top Model on the CW. I tried to explain to him what was going on but quickly gave up. Thankfully his penis didn't fall off and he emerged from the experience still a man. And a good sport at that. I owe him like 10 noise shows for this one.

I didn't take pictures because there was some fancy society blog already doing so. They did a very different write up of the event. But hey, they sure as hell love Abigail!

Guest of a Guest

I'm sure you're enthralled.

New York - Nebraska's Coming to Town

I wrote about Saturday's upcoming Nebraska Society of New York's Taste of Nebraska event that Glen is DJing for Vice. I am pretty sure that 100% of the readership will not show, but I, for one, will surely have a blast and take a gazillion pictures. Anyway, getting people to come was secondary, I've got hometown pride. I may even have some Valentino's dessert pizza even though it's horrendous just for old times sake. But mostly I just want a hot dog, a Runza, and a Miller and Paine cinnamon roll. Oh and that ice cream from the UNL Dairy...so so good.

Justification 101

I wish I was more confident, I really do. I wish I was one of those people who could live her life without feeling the need to explain any potentially embarrassing actions. I am not one of those people. Hence I form elaborate reasoning for doing ridiculous or excessive things.

"You can never have too much of something as long as you collect it." Think about it. No one can give you guff about having four pairs of Ann Demeulemeester boots or four vintage studded jackets by the same brand if you say you collect them. I don't harsh my boyfriend for spending countless hours and dollars trolling Ebay for 80's home recording cassette tapes and he doesn't hate on my for my massive closet. This cannot be used as a method of cheating other people out of cool goods. A former of coworker at Beacons used to always whine that she should get everything that was vintage Chloe that came in because she "collected it". I tried to use the same excuse with her when it came to metal shirts but she said she collected them too.

"I was a cultural studies major focusing in media and popular culture. All these reality shows I watch are relevant to my field of study." If you've spent five minutes on this blog you probably know that I am addicted to bad tv. Which is funny because I don't even have an antenna, much less cable. But I'm addicted to watching bad tv on the internet. I don't get too ashamed about it unless someone else is around, I have the remote, and I flip to Oxygen to watch Bad Girls Club or the latest VH1 romance spin-off. Then I get all nervous and tingly, like I have to explain myself. Usually this is unnecessary because I've realized that almost everyone secretly loves the crap that I watch, even dudes. And they feel relieved that someone else picked it out so they get to watch it with a clean conscience.

Throbbing Gristle!

Holy crap! Can't you see how excited they are? We saw Throbbing Gristle at the Brooklyn Masonic Hall. Sean and I missed the first show because we were on tour, but we made it to the second one. It was amazing. Our only complaint was that the crowd was very mellow and security was way uptight. Everyone was pretty much motionless aside from one couple. The boyfriend was clearly on acid and the girlfriend seemed like she was using that as an excuse to totally let go too. They hollered and yelled and danced and immediately were engaged by Genesis. Unfortunately security carted out the dude, not sure why, and I assume his girl left with him.


We scored a really great spot in the very front to the right. I was wedged in between the stage and a speaker next to a very happy San Franciscan who was dancing his ass off and filming a big portion of the show.






Because of my position the photos were pretty much exclusively of Genesis. The others didn't even come out. Bummer, but still, she's a showstopper.






It's a little blurry but this awesome tiny girl stood next to me for a while. She was wearing an American flag leotard and a pair of old Levi's cut-offs. The tattoo on her arm says, "Love Me Like a Reptile".


It was a good night.

Tidbits

I present some uncategorizable sights.


"Original Demon Slayer" from dinner @ Zenkichi


Normally I don't like the idea of fish coming out of my crotch but I was helpless when confronted with these pants at Fox and Fawn.


This girl has the worst tattoo I have ever seen. It's hard sneaking up on drunk chicks to take pictures of them without their knowledge. Her friend told me to stop taking photos of her drunk friend and not to embarrass her any more than she already had embarrassed herself. This girl was going nuts and was seriously aggro. Plus I didn't quite get the leather shirt. I guess it goes to show, no matter how annoying/Matrix dressed/shittily tattooed you may be, a good friend is a good friend. I've seen this girl around like 20 times since that night and she's been much better behaved. But she still has a faceless chick spread eagle on her arm.


This is Luna. She is my boyfriend's roommate's cat. Glenn found her after she'd been hit by a car. She's a former bodega cat and he nursed her back to health. She's missing a lot of teeth so her tongue has a tendancy to loll out, especially when she's sleeping.


These are some pics from The Milestone that didn't make it into the Vice article. Crass = Grass.


Anarchy = Gay.


Danzig = knocked out by a goat (according the Andy the Doorbum @ The Milestone.)