GOOD TIMES: ADIOS '07

What a year its been. When Jimmy invited me to DJ a Wednesday night party at Eastern Bloc nearly a year ago, I was like, you're gonna compete with $1 beers at the Phoenix?!! But lo and behold, Good Times, good music and handsome boys have won over the masses. And we're only getting bigger in 2008.


Andrew, my best friend from Boston who now lives in LA, came to town solely to appear on Twerking. The blog is blowin' up in '08 too, folks.


Cute couple alert! Charlie (right) and his boy toy Michael came out early just to be sure I hadn't given away all my drink tickets.


Suzanne (second from right) is a total party girl, which is why I never really believed that she was married till she brought her husband Matt out (left) for the first time all year.


Earl and his crew of drag queens were all fun and games, doing full-body workouts on the pole, when...


...an eyewitness told me that this queen was hoisted up by another friend and STOLE THE TAXIDERMY GOAT'S HEAD!


My reaction exactly! Who steals taxidermy from bars?!!


You know this army dude flew in straight from Baghdad and didn't feel like changing into his civilian clothes before hitting the bars.


He also didn't waste any time conquering bar partrons. Don't ask, don't tell!


"Who me? I would never steal a goat's head." Lucky for Earl (left), we hear the bar property has since been returned after an all points bulletin was issued. Don't mess.


Ben (left) is on break from becoming a fancy schmancy lawyer, which means he can finally let his hair down and crank up the Queen Latifah. U.N.I.T.WHHHHHHY.


I think I saw Stephen (right) every single night last week, though I didn't catch the Justin Timberlake imposter he was hanging with.


Sam (center), stuck in the middle of s shortie sandwich with Erik (left) and Ben.


Luke (in the orange) was apparently the bar star. I think two or three people came up to me and told me how hot they found him. I was like, you should see his alternate drag persona!


The handsomeness that is Michael (left), sitting in front of what appears to be more hands than people.


How come nobody took a proper picture of that bearded cutie in the background?


HAMISH! Hamish (right, with me) needs get his own reality show or stand-up comedy show in '08.


These two were hanging with me when I played that old Toya jam, "I Do," and they were like, oh my god. Toya's from St. Louis just like us!


Earl, planning his goat's head getaway.


For a non-bearded duo, these two A-OK.


Michael (left) was like, "You have to talk to my girl friend. She's going on that birthright Israel trip you went on," which then led to a 30 minute discussion of hot Israeli soldiers.


It's official. Everyone's drunk.


Nick (center, with Jose on the left) and I attended the same college. He also dated Andrew (right) for a hot minute like, seven years ago.


Barback Sammy (center) turned up with his straight brother (!, right) and his brothers friend, visiting from the ATL.


I always thought that Kevin F. (left) was a jew-ban (jewish cuban) from Miami until he broke the news that he grew up in Connecticut.


Jesse (left) and Michael are mad about plaid.


Love you too Willie!


Silver foxes.


Despite a somewhat blurry picture, bartender will be looking even hotter, younger and more muscular in the year to come.


A sea of men, including a purple clad Gregor.


Stephen and Eric, serving up stripey, checkerboard, hot pink scarves.


Gant (left) likes 'em young. GET IT, GANT!


Gregor and friends, or gay emo rock band?


Joe and Jaime (from left), who told me that this particular Good Times party was the best party EV-ER!


Brian (right), who also flew in from LA just to make it on the blog. You made it Brian!


Oh, did I mention that this party was vaguely Kylie and Dannii Mingoue themed? Because it was. Don't worry. We'll do a more proper Kylie night where I can play Confide in Me 2000 times.


Red plaid is the new black, although black is always kind of the new black.


"We'll take two plaids, on the rocks."


Evans and Devin, my boys from the Cock who I hope start partying at Good Times on a weekly basis.


Peek-a-boob! This must have been Andy's only night off from the Cock all month. What better way to celebrate than with us? HAPPY NEW YEAR! See you on Wednesday.

--

And don't forget to come get SPANKed this Friday at The Vault (the basement of Element on Houston and Essex, where that Larry Tee Bank party used to be, but in the actual vaults of the bank). I'm DJing 11 - 1230 and its free and open bar. Top that.

HER NAME IS NICOLE!

It's no secret that I despise the Pussycat Dolls yet I love love love their frontwoman Nicole Scherzinger. Her album has been pushed back like, 20 times because all of her singles thus far have tanked. But fear not! Puakenikeni is here. It will change your life. It is her next single. It is baby love.

Nicole Scherzinger - Puakenikeni

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

And my friend got beat up! Last night, walking home up Avenue A after work around 430am, my friend brushed shoulders with one of two younger dudes walking the opposite direction in front of Bagel Zone and Key Food near 4th st. Said dude turned and said, "watch where you're fucking going," to which my friend replied, "you watch the fuck where you're going!" This escalated to the dude spitting on my friend (my friend spat back), at which point my friend was thrown into the flowers outside of Key Food and repeated punched in the face.

The two flower vendors kind of jumped in to break it up (I was watching from a few feet away convinced a knife would be pulled any minute), but once the assailants ran off, the Key Food flower vendor got all up in MY face telling me I had to pay for a few knocked over flowers. In fact, he wouldn't let go of me and tugged on my coat as we walked two more block to my apartment to call the cops.

The lesson? Don't buy flowers in front of Key Food. And please don't get into altercations with strangers. Especially on the street at 430am. Three years ago, a girl named Nicole duFresne did very close to where we were. Her teen assailant pulled a gun and shot her dead. She would have turned 31 next week.

THE 2007 EV R.I.P. ROUNDUP

It's that time when we look back at our favorite East Village establishments that have closed in the past year and spill a sip of our 40s for the homies who used to congregate there.

1) Big Lug - The men were big, beautiful and burly at this downstairs bear bar but the winter hibernation season must have killed business.

2) Cold Stone Creamy - Why god?! Why?!!!

3) Dick's Bar - Always fun for a drink with the octagenerians, who now have to schlep up to Townhouse for their high balls and hot toddies.

4) Radio Perfecto - They served the most perfecto pitchers of sangria in their backyard garden off of Avenue B and were always kind of empty, which is probably why they closed.

5) Bouche Bar - a.k.a. that little make out bar on 5th street with the plamp (plant lamp from the 70s). I could always only afford one drink here anyway, which is why my dates always ended early.

6) Mr. Black - This underground gay dance club's lifeline was cut short when the entire staff was arrested for drug possession and the door's were padlocked, leaving us no place to go after 4am.

7) The Bijoux - We hear that this gentlemen's "movie theatre" is no longer, but we really have no clue.

8) Imagine Bar & Grill - Or, as I liked to call it, Miracle Bar & Grill v. 2.0, which served cheap, yummy brunch in their spacious backyard.

9) Cock Tail/Star Bar - This Cock offshoot turned Starlight offshoot was a disaster from the get go but they had nice wallpaper I think. It's existence is kind of hazy in my mind.

10) Tompkins Square Bakery - No more ham and cheese croissants, but on the brighter side, I'll be free on Saturdays to, ummm, sleep and blog.

WEEKEND JERRY AMAZINGNESS

If this isn't exploitation, I don't know what is. Love the different hair colors though.

AS TOLD TO THE DJ: DECEMBER 22

Girl: Why are you playing [Band Aid's Do They Know Its Christmas]?

Me: I like this song.

Girl: This is a jew party.

Me: I'm jewish.

GOOD TIMES: RIVER DEEP, MOUNTAIN HIGH

This week was one of the best Good Times at Eastern Bloc ever. I don't know why. I mean, every Wednesday is pretty rad, but there's something in the holiday air (like the smell of egg nog. Just kidding.) that made everybody cut loose. Foot loose. Kick off the Wednesday shoes.


Jimmy's back! Or he was for this week anyway (he'll be home next week for Christmas). If you haven't had a chance to catch up on his travels to Israel, Kenya, London and the Philippines, check out his blog here.


Dude wondering where his manhunt meet-up is at.


Such handsome profiles, don't you think?


This one is all sorts of cute except for the "Ready for Play" shirt. I mean, if you have to advertise for it, you probably aren't going to get it.


As a result of my myspace outreach, I have befriended handsome strangers that I probably wouldn't have encountered otherwise like this one on the right.


Duane (right) is in the running for 2008's hunk of the year. Wait and see.


A dude (for reals)! That's all I have to say about this photo.


Ah, le panaromic. I'm finally figuring out how to work my camera. And I've only had it for two months!


Matt is a rabbit in your headlights. No, he's an old friend who worked as Meryl Streep's husband's art assistant/slave before pursuing a masters in Cali. He LIVED Devil Wears Prada.


This one was all pissed that I snapped this candid shot of him as he was walking through the bar but I think he ended up looking good regardless.


Speaking of looking good, Eric (left) kept complaining about how unphotogenic he is. I beg to differ.


Lori (right) and friend were both visiting from San Francisco. Or maybe just she was, but I kind of feel like half the party is ex-San Fran people and their west coast couch surfing friends.


Stephen the dietitian (right, another one from Frisco) told me that greasy food was the worst possible thing I could eat before bed. Then I ran to Nino's and got a slice of pizza.


Saggy jeans or lack of a derriere?


If a gay Swedish band popped into Good Times for a drink, this is what I picture that they would look like.


Adam (left), with a bearded boy toy.


This one must have been so excited to jump up on the pole that he didn't even bother to completely removed his winter coat. That's the power of Britney's Blackout, I bet.


Michael (right) wasted no time getting friendly with Pablo's (left) friend.


Handsome boys from Alabama (i.e. Duane) are my weakness. That, and nutella.


A flamer! Get it? His tattoos? Buh dum bum.


Peek-a-boob!


Robbie (right) used to be one of two regulars at my Wednesday night Route 85A party, which began four years ago this month. It ended shortly thereafter.


David Davis (right), giving Jason (middle) the ultimate death stare.


Erik came through to introduce himself, yet somehow ended up knowing every single patron at the party. Gay Long Island DJs unite!


Jeff (left), Jason and I attended the Metropolitan Bar holiday party Monday night, where I did a kick-ass karaoke rendition of Tina Turner's Private Dancer.


Because the bar got so jam packed, I saved the Tina Turner jams (theme of the party) till 230am, when devoted fans such as Kevin (right) could appreciate Nutbush City Limits in a quieter setting.


I didn't crop Jonathan's head out of this picture. He was just photographed that way.


The talented Mr. Beau, center, ponders where David's lips have been.


Baby C (center) is my favorite person on earth. For reals. He can set up camp in my DJ booth and I would be overjoyed. In fact, that's kind of what he did with his friend Kele, who was visiting from London.


Baby C hasn't been going out as much on weeknights, so when he does, he turns it up to 11.


Poor James had to suffer a week-long stay in the hospital due to a multi-resistant staph infection (MRSA). And he has to wear this IV for like, six weeks. WAH WAHHHHH.


Michael and his man were still at it when Scott (left, in the brown hat) arrived hot off the heels of Beyonces' Christmas party for her staffers two blocks away! We were like, BRING HER! but apparently she had to go uptown to meet Ms. Kelly.


Actually, Baby C is more like my yes girl who is more than happy to do backup singing and dancing during my set. He is the best.


Another "unphotogenic" one, Massimo (right) had to be wrestled just to be photographed.


Magamet (left) and Pablo, bring back the grunge and Mickey Mouse realness respectively.


For a second, it almost looks as if this picture were taken at a straight bar. Almost.


Linger on, pale blue eyes.


How come every time Kele (right) poses for the cam, he looks total poltergeist?


In case you didn't read earlier, my friend just got out of the hospital after a bout with MRSA. Let's try to be a little more hygienic, shall we?


I'm sure these two are planning a date. In the bathroom.


Sam (right) was totally touched by the heart-warming story of the African toddlers that handcrafted Jimmy's necklace and sold it to him for 50 cents.


Magamet is looking quite hunky these days as well. I have to only say nice things about him on my blog after outing him about his drunken love confessional with bartender Darren a few months ago.


Tim (right, with James) was surprisingly well behaved for a late Wednesday night at Good Times.


George can do no wrong in my book. He is perfection.


Pablo (left) was like, "I JUST MADE OUT WITH THIS GUY! WATCH!" but the dude was so not in the moment anymore.


DJ Will, aka hunk of the year 1997 - 2007, invited me to DJ his Spank party with him two Fridays from now, January 4th. Peep the flier here.


Uh oh. Looks like someone is going through a text message breakup.


Speaking of break ups, I used to date this one but now he just sort of randomly pops up everywhere I am, including my own DJ parties.


Doorguy Scot says "BAR'S CLOSING! DON'T MAKE ME SLAP YOU WITH MY PROSTHETIC COCK!" See you next week!