GOOD TIMES: THE RICHARD X FILES

Mystery! Intrigue! Dragonette remixes! We don't know much about the elusive producer/remixer Richard X but we do know that we love his songs and so we played them all night long last Wednesday at our weekly Good Times party at Eastern Bloc.


Music aficionado and occasional DJ Sean M. had been begging me for a Richard X party since the dawn of Annie (the singer, not the musical) so I invited him to do an early set and play as many remixes of Chewing Gum as he could find.


Which of these handsome young men do not work at Eastern Bloc? And Keisha (right) doesn't count because she's pretty much an honorary employee with all the bar time she's put in.


These two were apparently living out the lyrics to Freak Like Me...


...cuz they were ready to (pump pump) all through the night till the early morn'.


Gustavo (left) is an official Good Times convert, although he did sneak out early for a supposed cupcake consortium. Actually, f I weren't DJing, I'd be vying for cupcakes too.


I am going to start leaving a table tent on this bench that simply says "Reserved for Shawn & Friends" because this is exactly where I need them every Wednesday.


Finest Dreams just walked into the bar (on the left).


Nighttime yoga begins now.


Even if I ended up playing that remix of Gwen Stefani's Cool three times (or more), I still don't feel cool enough to throw cowabunga and hang ten signs. But more power to this dude.


Jeferson (left) needs to whisk us all away to Brazil right about now. But since the airports are shuttered due to the snowstorm, come to next Good Times!, where we'll be playing lots of Hot Chip and asian rock goddess bands like Shonen Knife!


Black by popular demand.


Stephen (right) and his new friends, one of whom is also named XANDER. Sacrelig! Not sure if this Xander is gay or not but we're hoping Stephen found out before the night was over.


Jonathan (right), dresssed for our Flannel & Grunge party which we have yet to plan but are prepping for by listening to alot of Pearl Jam's Ten album.


The T. has arrived and has begun to sniff out beards and boots.


I think everyone forgot about our weekly open vodka bar from 11 - 1130 last Wednesday because it took a few cranberry vodkas, red bulls and encouraging words from photographer Kelvin get these guys ready for their close-up.


Dear Eddie (right), I hope you are surviving the cold, white winter in Germany. I hope someone else gives Kelvin the middle finger at this week's Good Times and that you return home ASAP. xo, Sparber


Santi (left, with Daniel and friend) who was living for the Richard X and Grum remixes of Goldfrapp's Rocket as much as I am living for his buzzed-in beard designs.


SCOTTY, SPORTING SPERM TIE REALNESS.


Kiss me deadly!


Oooooh. Miss Stephanie Stone has just the cure for the frigid tempertures outside with her Russian bombshell up in pumps look.


And speaking of bombshells, can we talk about the guest coat checker? Can we have substitutes like this every week?


If Gary (left) and his bar coworkers were in a band, I hope they'd be called InXES.


I wonder if tattoo inks spurts out of that nipple if you suck too hard.


Chris Ryan (left) loves a tie almost as much as he loves a Madonna/Britney/Gaga-themed twink party.


Wake her up and tell her that we're about to play that Rachel Stevens' Some Girls song. Again.


'SCUSE ME LET THE HOMRE (on the right), TAKE MY NUMBER CALL ME, I CAN GET SQUEAKY SO YOU CAN COME AND OIL ME.


His reddish beard is reminding me: Can you believe I let a ginger guest DJ the opening set?!?!


GET IT NANA! I bet Nana's girlfriends tell their friends that they're dating the ill Nana.


More russian realness courtesy of Tommy, cuddled by a more dressed-down Jason.


TURN THOSE FROWNS UPSIDE, young men! I just put on Tracy Ullman!


Thank god RuPaul's Drag Race is on Mondays and not Wednesdays. Otherwise we'd NEVER get Luke out of the house before midnight.


Mother T. (left) using all of her sensory perceptive devices on bartender Darren.


Jackie giving you Rainbow Brite at a candy rave to the sounds of Moby when he was more relevant as a musician than a political activist.


Is that all there is? If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing.


LAST CALL, CUNTY CRAWFORD! Make your way to the bar NOW.


How is the one dude full-on making out with somebody who isn't reciprocating the gesture?


Nothing tells a story like the timestamp on these photos. This one was taken at 3:41am...


...and this one was taken at 3:51am. GET IT CURLY! See you next week!

TWERKER OF THE DAY

Muhler Melancia, aka Watermelon Woman, is known throughout Brazil for her ginormous gadunkadunk. She's kind of like Kim Kardashian except instead of subjecting the country to a torturously boring reality show, she dances to a song about moving her ass to five different speeds and is even working on her own music! Check the vid below or watch the short Vice documentary on her here and here.

EBAY AUCTION OF THE DAY

90210 dolls from the 90s. Why does Kelly have to be all naked and shit?

NEW DANCE SHOW

Detroit's New Dance Show was where it was AT. Black techno house freaknic realness.

DREAMS OF RAVING

Only in my dreams do Debbie Gibson hit singles get the semi-decent rave redux. Until I uncovered THIS gem. Love how she gives props to our mutual high alma mater, Calhoun, in the original cover art.


Debbie Gibson - Only in my Dreams (Riff Dub)

FILIPINO KARAOKE REALNESS

You probably missed the New York Times' inquiry into the taboo practice of singing Sinatra's My Way at any karaoke bar in the Philippines for fear of getting killed. Many moons ago, I lived to tell about my gay karaoke tour of the Philippines (published on gay.com, reprinted below). What I failed to mention was that this Sintra legend was alive and thriving and we were scared for our lives to sing My Way.


GAY KARAOKE SWEEPS THE PHILIPPINES!

Karaoke is to the Philippines as baseball is to America. Japan may have named it, but Filipino folklore holds that a native named Roberto del Rosario invented the sing-along machine back in 1975. Thirty years later, you can't swing a portable microphone without hitting a karaoke bar.

And thanks to the Philippines' gay-friendly attitude, there's never a shortage of diva tracks to sing, from Bette and Britney to Cher, Madonna and Barbra.

The Philippines, an archipelago of 7,108 islands, was ruled by Spain, then America, then Japan, before gaining independence in 1946. Its mixed heritage makes for an easy transition for Western travelers. Bar soap ads in English run alongside cell phone billboards in Tagalog, the national language.

Most travelers start off in Manila and Cebu -- the nation's biggest cities, where you can find pulsating gay nightlife. But even if you're venturing on to the white-sand beaches of Boracay or the rainforests of Palawan, be sure to brush up on your '80s ballads: You never know when you'll be hit with a request, whether at a hostel, hotel, pub or stranger's house.

Start flexing those vocal cords -- and get ready for a musical journey through the kooky, tranny-dominated land of gay karaoke in Manila.

QUEZON CITY, an uptown Manila neighborhood

Tucked away in a cluster of gay karaoke bars, Butterfly Blue Bar (28 Timog Ave at the corner of Scout Tobias; +63-2/493-3487) stands out for its rainbow window and the gay couple who owns and runs it, Ryan and Raoul. Butterfly is intimate enough that you'll befriend everyone in a matter of minutes, and the songs are free -- so you can literally sing all night, since they don't close till 8 a.m.

At Amaritz (corner of Timog Ave and Scout Tobias, above Butterfly Blue Bar; +63-2/410-9014), think "schmaltzy Filipino-themed bar mitzvah venue." Overeager employees may hog the mic for too long -- or invite you on stage for a "She Bangs" duet. The mixed crowd includes hot male waiters and female "dancers," who may or may not be for rent.

The selection of songs at Rabbits (corner of Timog Ave and Scout Tobias, next door to Butterfly Blue Bar, no phone number), a slick, blue-and-white-striped spot, must have been crafted for the throngs of drag queens and transwomen who seem to be everywhere in the Philippines. You'll find entire karaoke DVDs devoted to a single artist, such as Whitney Houston or Mariah Carey.

MALATE, downtown Manila and hub of gay nightlife

A downtown gay karaoke staple for 17 years, the Library (1779 M. Adriatico St; +63-2/522-2484) boasts "performances" by local idols who await discovery. You can sing after the show, but don't get too drunk: There's no teleprompter feeding you lyrics, so you're on your own.

Another performance space, Comic Lab (1718 Jorge Bocobo St; +63-2/526-2730) combines standup and karaoke, which can be unfortunate if you're an American tourist pulled onstage and ridiculed (mostly in Tagalog) by two trannies and a girl. Luckily, you also have the option of performing two songs yourself, such as Shaggy's "Angel" or Madonna's "Crazy for You."

As the name suggests, at Male-landia (1804 Orosa St at the corner of Nakpil St; +63-2/522-2010) you'll be overrun by young men willing to put in your song requests or entertain certain other "requests" you may have. The songs may cost a quarter each, but having the whole bar sing along to Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart" is priceless.

KISS AND RIDE

Kind of really wanna go to this tonight.


Bratmobile - Panik

GOOD TIMES: HOT BOY BIRTHDAY SPOT

Though the symbol for Aquarius is the universal man pouring forth water from a jug, the universal Aquarians who celebrated their birthdays at Wednesday's Good Times party at Eastern Bloc seemed more prone to pouring multiple shots for themselves and their friends, making for quite the pretty mess.


The four Aquarians in question were co-DJ Jimmy, former go-go beau Matt B., Eastern Bloc co-owner Ben/Antoine and my custom tank top designer Devin M. Happy birthday boys!


An early appearance from gray-capped duo Mike (left) and Andy, who always "have work in the morning" until they get really really drunk and then its more like will I have a job in the morning


Fernando stumbled in and out of the DJ booth so dizzily that I had to usher him away before we had a hurling situation on our hands.


Mao (left) and friends, demonstrating that the only way to survive the pressures of planning fashion week is to work hard and play harder.


James' priceless death stare (left) gets me every time.


Different attire for the hot to cold microclimates of Eastern Bloc (from left to right).


HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOSHIE WOOD! We didn't even know it was Josh's birthday till he slurred something about it to me after many many birthday toasts.


Reavis (left, with Garrett) is trying to bribe me with tank tops in exchange for his own private Sparber mixtape collection.


Where is that arm coming from? It's like some total stranger stuck his arm in the picture and this dude promptly put it in his mouth.


I can only imagine which wine he was drinking, given that Eastern Bloc has a huuuuuge array of wine options for our wine connoisseur customers.


This is what happens when Harriet doesn't get what she wants. I am not kidding.


Ummmm, not sure how this Banya advertisement slipped in here.


With cash in hand, Harriet and Marc remind us: WHATEVER HARRIET WANTS, HARRIET GETS!


BIRTHDAY BOYS! Happy birthday to Jimmy (left) and Matt, who sure know how to bring a crowd and party like they're not in their 30s. Ben/Antoine didn't want to pose for public pictures...


...so we have to revert to this classic of him and Merna Boots. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BANTOINE!


Jose (left) was slammed at his Big Booty Bakery and couldn't bring a cake for his birthday boyfriend, Matt, though we seriously would have settled for their heavenly chocolate chip cookies.


Jason (second from left) in daywear, which doesn't really compare to his alter ego Courtney Summers' nightwear.


Rubbing the genie's belly.


I hope Rainblo (left) has not forsaken her trademark rainbow-colored mohawks and will wear one out to next week's Richard X Good Times. Yes I did.


Bringing back the braces trend, Parker Posey style.


I pretty much spit out my rum punch two weeks ago when I saw the one and only Luke B. (right) in a Courtney Love-posted twitpic. Luke officially needs to do some serious celeb wrangling for our next Night of 1000 Courtneys.


Ty-Lör (center), getting his weeknight Snaxx on with heartthrob daddy duo Rich K. (left) and Gustavo.


We are loving Steve's newfound facial hair (second from right), but then again, I think we pretty much say that about anyone with facial hair each and every week.


VALDEZ ALERT! HIDE THE BRITNEY SPEARS CDs ASAP!


Now is as good a time as ever to mention that I'm DJing Williamsburg's Sugarland dance club this Friday from 1 - 4, where you can find cute young things such as these two shakin' a tail feather.


I'm also filling in for Gant this Sunday at Eastern Bloc's Love Hangover disco party, where you can find disco kids such as these two grooving to Larry Levan hits, which I'll be playing all evening long, 9pm - 2am.


Xander (right) might or might not have the science of running in, posing for a fierce pic, and leaving down to a science.


Parker (second from left), sporting the biggest bowtie collection on this side of Broadway.


Kevin (left) and Andrew, jamming to Jimmy's jams a la Yelle. More Yelle in 2010!


Our dear friend Paul (in the plaid. Just kidding. That's everyone at the bar. He's second from left) has left us and moved to Berlin, where he will likely morph into a fisting leather pig in lederhosen. Auf wiedersehen Paul!


Adrian (right) is in heaven next to a Brazilian daddy and a hirsute cub.


Wrestle boy Jeff (right), showing birthday boy Devin some love on the first of three (or was it four) birthday celebrations Devin organized for himself. More parties = more presents.


Rich and Mark, giving you gay Bennetton fragrance ad realness.


I can just hear Hurricane Jason chanting along with his roommate Ladyfag as they sing "where are all the dad-dies? Where are all the dad-dies?"


Happy birthday to almost Aquarian Michael T. too. She's more of a cusp baby, which maybe explains her "eccentric" behavior.


Mon coeur fait boum.


Olé! No, really, that was the name of Michael T.'s friend (left), who explained to Evans that he is pretty much straight at another point in the evening.


I am also susceptible to Kelvin's retarded photo directions as witnessed by my Hell's Kitchen douchebag pose here. But boy was I tan. See you next week!

COME JOURNEY INTO PARADISE

I'm filling for Gant this Sunday at his weekly Love Hangover disco party at Eastern Bloc and I'm giving Larry Levan realness all night. Let's get lost in music!

BIG BUCKETS OF RED BLOOD

What became of Kudu? The NuBlu bar stars seemed poised to hit it big back in 2006 with great album and remixes by both Sinden and Armand Van Helden. I remember somebody once comparing front woman Sylvia Gordon to the vocal and performance prowess that was once Deee-Lite's Lady Miss Kier. Perhaps that comparison was too precise as both have faded now into obscurity.

Before Kudu's biggest release, Death of the Party, they released a slow, synth track called Boom Boom that keeps winning me over every time I hear it.

Kudu - Boom Boom

SHAKE YOUR TUCHAS

DJ Trident & Sister Mantos twerk on Penelope Edmund's Hey track and deliver quite the bootylicious video as well.