Pick Up Line of the Week!

I live in Lefrak City (not actually a city, but a few buildings) and up until now did I realize it was sort of ghetto.

I was speed walking down the sidewalk with my face pointed down. Until...

Guy: Damn baby girl you are so beautiful! I would take you to Las Vegas and marry you if I only had a ring. But I'm poor because of the economy.

It was hilarious and I laughed very loudly, but continued to speedwalk home. You never know what could happen in the ghetto.

Odds and Ends from Last Night

Oh, c'mon. Either the bottom one should have a fender bender or the top one should be engulfed in flames.

This was duct-taped to the Parks Department placard at Tompkins Square Park. Apparently, junkies have funerals.

I guess schools in the L.E.S. are prepping kids for kung-fu tournaments.

Cute Couple of the Week

Dolores Fonzi & Gael Garcia Bernal

Celebrity SCOOP: They just had a baby.

Oh, Gael...you're so drea...*drool*...I mean, congrats on having a beautiful baby boy!

Follow the Leader! Goes to 66Sick, Again

Although most colleges' spring breaks have come and gone, CUNY's begins tomorrow. To celebrate, we're going to our perennial Tuesday night hangout, Happy Ending, where 66Sick will be raging with its usual dance floor antics, free vodka, and no cover.

THE RUNDOWN
Date: Tuesday, April 7th to Wednesday, April 8th.

Time: 10 PM to 4 AM.

Location: Happy Endings
302 Broome Street
Downstairs
Manhattan

Price: Free.

Drinks: Free house vodka cocktails from 11 PM to 12 AM; $3 Pabst Blue Ribbon all night; easy to sneak in booze, dark enough on the dance floor to enjoy it.

Music: No-names (DJs Micprobes, Peter High, and Dimitry) spinning sets heavy on the electro with some pop thrown in for good flavor. A few of songs I've heard there are...

The Ting Tings - Shut Up and Let Me Go
IAMX - Spit It Out (Designer Drugs remix)
Stardust - Music Sounds Better with You (Discotech remix)

Crowd: A mix of young hipsters and Euro-trash; free booze means they're drunk as Hell, but doesn't ensure that they'll dance; downstairs tends to be a fire hazard as midnight (i.e. last call for free vodka) approaches; after that the crowd thins out a little, but things never really die down; in the off-chance that the lower level doesn't please, just walk upstairs to Disco Down on the ground level and discover a whole 'nother party.

ID: 21+, but they are more harsh with guys; the first time I went Olek almost didn't get in because the photo on his ID was taken ages ago and doesn't really look like him anymore; on the other hand, Kat was using a friend's ID and got in no problem; government issued only.

Coat Check: They have it, but I'm unsure of the price; every time I go I just stay my stuff into the seating-area cubicles.

Directions: F train to Delancey; walk four blocks West on Delancey until you hit Eldridge; walk one block South to Broome; turn East on Broome; Happy Endings is near the corner; it still has the red awning of the location's former Chinese massage parlor.

Pregame:
Angels and Kings
500 East 11th Street & Avenue A
Manhattan
No cover; free vodka from 10:30 to 11:30

A few photos from last time:

New Artist Alert: White Lies

[Big ups to Stephen Vasquez for prompting this post.]

Although their debut album, To Lose My Life, has topped the charts and everyone from BBC Radio 1 to NME have been singing their praises, the hype surrounding White Lies seems a bit undeserved. They're a trio from London who make mediocre alternative rock. They occasionally sound like lesser versions of celebrated bands: unexperimental Joy Division; Franz Ferdinand minus the dance; Muse without the impetus. Their songs feature energetic, though sometimes inappropriate, repetitive drumming. The lead vocalist can sound hollow, and his guitar work is nothing special. The bassist is alright, though his sound never really varies. Many of their songs also feature synths, though they do little more than add a harmonic backdrop and thus feel tacked on. They're are pretty good when they finally kick out the stops, which is usually during the last minute of a song after a melodic build up. Then the vocalist's voice really shimmers, the guitar and bass fall inline with the drums, and the synths--well, they sort of disappear, but that's probably for the best. The only problem is that it often takes White Lies so long to get to that sweet spot that most of the song has already passed in a forgetable haze.

Although White Lies' music might be negligible on its own terms, there are a few DJs who have done some interesting stuff with it. Yuksek, who you may remember from last Saturday, transformed "Farewell to the Fairground" into a great electro banger. Filthy Dukes also managed to inject some life into "To Lose My Life," which they molded into a poppy dance tune. Generally speaking, the remixes are much more memorable than White Lies' orginal material.

White Lies - Farewell to the Fairground
White Lies - Farewell to the Fairground (Yuksek remix)
White Lies - To Lose My Life
White Lies - To Lose My Life (Filthy Dukes remix)

Sex and the Cyber City: The Date Update--Nunca Mas.

As promised, I have the story of my very first internet-based date. It was all that and a bag of chips--stale, disgusting, 25 cent chips that left the taste of vomit in my mouth.

So I met "Corey" inside of Penn Station. He called my cellphone and said he was walking towards me. I got excited since the guy that was walking towards me was tall and very good looking. You should have seen my face when that guy walked right past me, and I was left staring at my real date. He was around my height, plain, and a bit chubby with man boobs. I was quickly thinking of excuses that would ensure a quick getaway.

I couldn't do it. He seemed so genuinely excited about finally meeting me, so I had to go with plan B. I had to get drunk to somewhat enjoy this and not care about being seen with him. Lucky for me it was St. Patty's day, so getting drunk was not difficult. I also wanted him to realize that I was a party girl. For some reason, if you tell a guy you like to go out, dance, and party, they seem to lose all interest. That failed miserably.

So off we went to the place most likely to be able to have a full on conversation: an Irish Pub in Midtown. He couldn't hang and started to whine that we wouldn't be able to chat (duh!), so we left to another Irish Pub around the corner, where I made the b-line straight to the bar and ordered myself an Irish car bomb. We had a chat, and he is way too into zombies and anime for my liking. I wish I wasn't so drunk I would delightfully tell you about his horror flick based on how trees come alive and eat people. Sorry, I have boozed brain. He reminded me way too much of my brother. He doesn't enjoy going out that much, doesn't find enjoyment in dancing to good DJs. That's when I brought out the stories that revolved around me doing drugs in public and going out nearly every night. He brought up the fact that he likes to smoke a doobie every so often and chill at his dorm, and that we have to smoke together when I come to visit him. When he mentioned that I had to quickly claim that I can no longer smoke.

Thankfully, I had an English class which needed attending, so I left. He asked me to skip it to have a late lunch with him, but I politely declined and stumbled my way to Hunter. I have slowly cut off communication with him and realized I do have higher standards for myself. "Matches.com," you have failed me, and I will never use your services ever again.

Drunk bitches are awesome.

He notices, as any young male is often apt to do, a young female attempting to shout at the man behind a four foot tall wall, two record players spinning records at regular speeds and the classic one ear on, one off headphone combination. He shrugs his shoulders, suggesting he does not understand her. She redoubles her efforts screaming loudly, spilling a small amount of liquid out of her glass. The man behind the wall nods and gives the thumbs up sign. Having already decided on a course of action, he walks up to the wall after the girl has walked away and he asks, "Hey, I'm a drunk bitch! Can you play my favorite song?" The forty year old with uneven headphones laughs and replies, "But you don't have tits!" He rises on his toes, grabs his torso and with all his strength presses his chest towards his solar plexus. He looks to see an amused DJ nodding and giving him a thumbs up. That was when he realized, he was a drunk bitch.