NY ONE HELLA OF A TOWN. Yes, hella of a.
I was in NYC all last week basically. Had to handle shit. Boss shit. Don’t even worry about it. That’s how I roll. Jet setting lifestyle and shit. NYC usually treats me good but of course you know I found shit to hate on. On with the show –
VIP/Guest List Clubs: In NYC, every one is fucking somebody. It’s not like out here where you can be all “Yeah, I do PR for blah blah” or “Yeah, I run an indie record label” or “Yeah, I work at iTunes” all nonchalant like and people get all impressed and go “OH REALLY, HOW COOL…” and then proceed to shower you with questions that you can answer all “it’s not that cool…trust me” but secretly you are like “I wonder if we are gonna make out later now that he/she knows I have a cool kid job” Since everyone is somebody, most of the clubs are on some super annoying VIP shit. Velvet ropes and shit. Everyone wants to have an exclusive party so they can start cred wars. You know the whole “I RSVP’d like 3 weeks ago” or “Yeah, I’m on the standing guest list” or “So and so and I have been friends for yeaaaaaaars” Even if you are on the list, there is the fucking waiting and if you’re not there’s the shmoozing and the canoodling and the “I know so and so who knows so and so I swear Im legit” just to get inside. Then when you get inside it’s all like “What the fuck? I have to order a $200 bottle of Absolute just to sit down?” I’m not a big fan of that sort of club. I’m a whisky on the rocks, perched on a stool, listen to the juke box and leer at patrons kind of gal. All that bullshit seems fucking silly. I never fuck with that bullshit out here.
Grown & Sexy Neo Soul Parties: Here’s the thing. I like to go dumb. I like to get rowdy and get my groove on. Sure I like to get dressed up and act classy. Nothing wrong with puttin’ on a nice dress and going out with the man for a nice steak dinner and then out to dance to some slow jams. But understand, if I’m in classy mood and someone throws on the Federation, you better watch yourself cause I’ll be the first one to throw my drank on the dance floor, shatter the glass and start droppin’ it like it’s hot. That’s just the way it is. Unfortunately not everyone is like that. There are a lot of fools who are NOT feeling that vibe. Period. There are a lot of people like that in NYC. Fools who are hella bitter that it’s not still 92. Hella bitter that Lauren Hill sorta fell off. Hella bitter that NYC ain’t the center of hip-hop anymore. Hella mad that fools would rather shake them dreads and show they grills than sway gently and bob heads lip syncing about the good old days and livin’ life like it’s golden. I was at this party out there and Rich Medina was spinnin’ and it was the most boring shit ever. It was damn near 2 am and this fool is busting out Brand New Heavies, old ass Maxwell, Calvin Richardson and all sorts of fucking obscure ass cuts from neo-soul artists no one ever cared about except fools in Philly. Shit was putting me to sleep. This one dude stepped to me and tried to get me to tell Medina to get right and play something “real ignorant” cause we were making joke about how boring it was but I didn’t do it. I’ve heard stories about Medina throwing a shit fit when people request songs or try to tell him how to DJ. I wasn’t really in the mood and I got to hand it to someone who hates on haters. All I’m saying is. I like to go dumb.
Faux Euros: This look is only charming if you ARE European and you ARE wearing this while you are currently in Europe, preferably in the Mediterranean or somewhere beachy like Canne. It’s called douchey if you live in NY or in SF or anywhere else in America. I don’t give a fuck if you are European. It’s still fucking douchey. Look at this asshole with his white cropped manpris, mandals and tiny fucking American Apparel white t. One word. Bitchmade.
Um also, don’t be all “How do you know he’s not Euro? What if he’s just a stylish gay?” — I heard him talk through my cab window - Verdict - NOT EURO. He may have been gay, but it doesn’t matter because even a stylish gay deserves to be chided for rocking Faux Euro.
PLAYER OF THE WEEK:
“LOOK MA, NO PANTS!”
Listen buddy, I know it’s hot outside but it’s not that hot. Everyone else has pants on, so what I want to know is why you think it’s okay to roll out with none on? I see you’ve got dress shoes, a button down, hell you’ve even got fucking dress socks and a fancy watch, but no pants? Maybe no one told you there is AC on airplanes these days. There is ya know. Surely you’ve got at least one pair in the bag - it looks big enough to hold at least 3 or 4 pairs of pants. I mean maybe there was some strange occurrance - a pants-napping or something? I dunno - I say get pants and fucking quick. I can attest that once dude sat down it was only about 2 centimeters of fabric keeping the world from meeting his balls, intimately. I’m not entirely certain they didn’t touch the bus seat. LOOK AT THOSE FUCKING SHORTS! They are basically fucking hot pants. I’d like to blame this guy on NY but unfortunately this pic was taken upon my return to Oakland. Let’s hope dude is in town on business and not one of our own. I’m ashamed.
That’s it for now. Sorry for the late in the game post but like I said. I had boss like matters that needed my constant attention today.
funkybitch | 
08 10th, 2006| 
