Tuesday, December 09, 2008


Acid queens unite! Good Times at Eastern Bloc took it to the Nutbush City Limits last Wednesday as we revved up the Tina Turner tunes and did our best Proud Mary dance moves.

Mikey (right) had to tackle Jimmy away from the DJ booth in order to stop him from playing weird Frank Sinatra remixes, although Creedence Clearwater Revival might have sort of fit the bill that night.

If you stare long enough, they look vaguely brotherly.

Garrett (right, with Danny ) has this really sexy scar on the other side of his head and I'm sort of creeped out that I'm turned on by a scar.

It's only rock 'n' roll but they like it.

Duane, Steve and Paul (from left), chatting about what they're gonna wear to Snaxxx this Friday.

Shane (right) and one of the guys from the Hills or Bromance who has longish hair and always wears knit caps. Oh wait, that's all of them.

RU! Three amazing things about Ru (center) are: 1) His name is Ru Bhatt, which sorta sounds like robot, 2) He sent me the Yelle remix of Katy Pery which I'm still hot and cold about, and 3) He and his friend appear to be in a licking conga line.

Well hello Ryan (right) and mysteriously tanned friend. Did you come to Shake a Tail Feather?

Alan (left, with Kelvin) told me how he met Tina at an event for Golden Eye. He also promised to bring me a Liza Minnelli mix cd since I don't have any Liza in my repetoire (on purpose).

Nate (left) and Matt, drinking $4 Killian drafts all night long, y'all. And $2 Rolling Rocks (and vodka) from 10-11pm. Hard times call for Good Times.

Joe (center), stuck in the middle of a Greg sandwich.

The amazingness that is Jaime's sideshow bob hairdo, doing something Christian to Andrew that I wouldn't know about, which reminds me: HANUKKAH PARTY! Not sure if we should do it next week (pre-Hannukah) or the week after on xmas eve. Thoughts?

Sampson (right), telling Ryan to do like Kylie Minogue and read my body language.

It ain't a party till Joe gets drunk and humps someone.

Licky conga lines were the alternate theme of the evening.

Unbeknownst to me, Hurricane Jason had already reached self-described levels of 4.5 last week when he inserted himself into Duane's lap.

The best way to calm a hurricane is to get it in its eye. Or nose.

Fit to be tied.

GOOD TIMES PARTY CREW, staying together whether good or bad, happy or sad.

I love taking part in Kelvin's creative photos shoots like here, when he was like, PUT A DOLLAR IN HIS SHIRT!!!

The handsome Britishness that is Bradley.

Dude and dude, throwin' up a Steel Claw.

Paul and Steve, bundling up because they can't stand the rain.

Aurelien (right) and a friend practicing his French.

Jason (right) and a friend who kept trying to hang out in the DJ booth with me and Tony L., who apparently he's been trying to get with for years.

Jeffrey played the role of Private Dancer for the evening and did quite a stellar job.

Eric (left) and Richard, doing that bro's before ho's one-armed hug thang.

Arturo (left) giving Bob Fosse jazz hand realness. Or maybe he's telling us that if we like it than we shoulda put a ring on it.

"Now lunge for the camera."

Security man Adam! Adam tried to tell me my music wasn't cutting it and that I should be playing Of Montreal instead. Ummm, okay Adam. I'm still waiting for that mix cd.

The girl with the most cake.

My good friend Andrew, who was visiting from Belmont and has severely cut down on drinking. He swears that those three cocktails aren't his. No, really.

See you next week!

No comments: