Wednesday, June 16, 2010


Miss Honey Dijon usually holds court only on Sundays here in New York City at her long-running sweatfest known as Cuckoo Club at Hiro Ballroom. This week, however, we were lucky enough to have persuaded her into doing a disco DJ set at our weekly Wednesday Good Times party at Eastern Bloc. And oh what a set it was.

Oh. Hello DJ Andy Sinks (left). Andy is the newest member of our Eastern Bloc DJ family, having left his former bartending digs for a weekly DJ spot on Monday. Next stop, Ibiza.

Mike (left) and Andy got all mad that Kelvin "tricked" them into taking a photo with naughty poster behind them, though with a little help from photo shop, they now look like they're sitting in the 1980s.

It was raining all sorts of nonsense outside so we were slower than usual, but for the guys who did show up like this handsome quartet, we had all sorts of tricks up our sleeve.

Adam (right) is seriously out every single night of the week, and I only know this because I've somehow been DJing every single night of the week.

Why the frowny face Casey?

You can see Kelvin's photo direction in the "PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HIP! LIKE THIS!" pose that everyone is doing in this here photo. Except for the stretching-for-my-workout dude.

Justin Bieber loves Sparber. There. I said it. And now we will go make Spbieber babies.

Literally running around the bar for 10 minutes like this going, LOOK! I'M ONGINA! GET IT? ONGINA!

The gorgeousness that is Honey Dijon. In fact, the only thing more gorgeous than Honey was Honey's set, which turned everybody in the bar OUT!

Islands in a stream. That is what we are.

Living for Honey's cunt selections of only the best Chaka Kahn tracks ever.

Cherchez la femme?

And then this happened. And those neon green dreads LIGHT UP! The look on Sean's face is pretty much how we all felt for the next hour and it was amazing .

On again, off again and then on again boyfriends Jeff (left) and Medo.

See no evil, hear no evil.

And just imagine the fiercest disco being played throughout this whole party. No Thrill Kill Kult or Nine Inch Nails or Meat Beat Manifesto. I swear.

This one on the left is legendary and you can tell from the way he commanded the dancefloor in front of Honey's booth, giving you footwork for days.

More dijonaise honeys, here for Honey I presume.

Though this very well could have been a party bus bound for lezzie night at Metropolitan that took a wrong turn before going over the bridge. We shall never know.

Troy, Kevs and Evs (from right), bowing to the sensai behind the decks.

Love break? Love break! Love break? LOVE BREAK!

Frankie (left), pulling a literal Mazzy Star by fading into Devin.

Tastes like bacon.

And the night most certainly would not have been complete if I didn't get a text from the lovely and luscious Ladyfag while I was ordering 4am at the bodega saying, I'M COMING BY! (to lick pussy, no less). So of course I had to return.

See you next week for William Merrell's rawwwwwk birthday bash at Good Times. xo

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

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