Wednesday, October 17, 2012


Today, I looked at my camera roll from last Wednesday's Good Times at Eastern Bloc (with guest DJ Lauren Flax, whose set was off the chain, by the way) and thought, "damn, I only took 35 photos? (20 of which you'll find posted here). I must have really had a good time." And that, I did.

The photo taking started when Frankie Sharp (pictured here with maybe the other coolest chick in New York after guest DJ Lauren Flax) showed up earlier than I've ever seen before. Turns out Frankie won the highly-esteemed Paper Magazine nightlife award for best camouflage at a leopard party. Now if only he could fit it with the cougars.

Oh wait...Frankie is doing just fine in the male cougar department as well.

We're trying to convince our good friend from LA named Blas (pronounced BLAH!-sssss) to move to New York because who really needs sun and sand on a year-round basis? Come freeze with us for the next six months Blas!

Aly must have been at the same leopard lounge as Frankie earlier in the evening. Oh, and by the way, happy birthday Aly! You are more loved than 10,000 leopards doing the Cha Cha Slide at a Good Times party.

It was one of those night where the crowd tends to stay clumped together in various parts of the bar throughout the evening. And those nights tend to have more breathing room, more action and more handsome bearded men then, say, the shitshow that is going to be a Wednesday night Halloween later this month.

Guest DJ Lauren Flax played off of two USB sticks (!!!) and sounded as awesome as I knew she would. Though she's big with the ladies of Brooklyn and the rest of the world, the gays of New York really need to get into her sound because not only is she a bright and rising DJ and production star, she's also major.

The boys are back in town and they're giving face face face, beauty face.

This little one named Fernando (left, with Ryan) had my heart when he introduced himself by telling me, "I'm Venezuelan and I have a big ass. What else is there to know?" My thoughts exactly.

The innocence of today's youth.

As I geared up to snap this photos, the crowd surrounding us started chanting, KISS! KISS! KISS! And so it was.

I forget the names of these two cuties but I simply think of them as the Backpacks, since they tend to wear their backpacks as fashion accessories in addition to being a practical place to store condoms, lube and boxed sets of Golden Girls DVDs.

Ludo (right) arrived with an entire crew of Frenchmen in tow who looked picture perfect but mostly spoke French (surprise!) to one another.

Eliot (left) and I chummed it up with this hunky Italian named Marcos who is a big deal in the theatre world and just wrapped one-act at La Mama. He also made a stealthy escape as Lauren Flax finished her set and I began mine so I didn't have time to propose marriage to him just yet.

My old neighbor and thin mint cookie fanatic Jermaine popped by to give and get a big ol' hug. He's good for that and I'm good for that. Just ask either of us. 

Mat with one T (left) came to visit us two weeks in a row last Wednesday between his hectic new schedule of selling apartments around town.

Apparently the grey v-neck is a bit more popular than I had previously anticipated.

Ummmm, the grey v-neck is a lot more popular than I had previously anticipated.

After a long absence, Starelle (left) came out to fill me in on everything I've missed in the weeks that we've been apart. And James (in the background with his iconic Pepsi shirt) also showed face and delivered a dozen roses for me and bartender Darren to share.

My late night set certainly wouldn't have been as fulfilling if William hadn't returned with Timmy and Frankie to get naked and make out with those who dare to stay out late on a Wednesday night.

All in all, it was an OTTERly fantastic evening. Thank you to Lauren Flax and her USB drives as well as everyone else that came out. See you next week when we get dubby with guest DJ Scott Ewalt at our Marinol Sunsplash Good Times. And then I'm DJing my monthly third Friday JIZZ party at Metropolitan, followed by nine days in San Francisco. Hayyyyy. xo, Sparber

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