January 24, 2004 #As long as the weather is butt-cold, I'll continue with these Saturday throw-away posts. From beyond the 3-point line...
When Elizabeth Spiers extends an invitation for an exclusive night-out and says bring your posse, you first check the inbox for .exe attachments and proceed cautiously. It was safe, it didn't include any white powder ( anthrax, people!) so I tried to gather my "posse" with pretty horrendous results. Re-produced here chat-room style because that's how gay our emails turn out...
AK: gentlemen, tonight we make our entrance to the elite blog scene and after we order four rounds of flamin' mo's, we make our fiery exit
DC: should i wear my Page Six Six Six pajamma pants?
RK: we really should all wear matching outfits (velvet seanjohn tracksuits, sunglasses) and have theme music when we enter and just go in and stand in the corner and not talk to anybody and then leave 10 minutes later
GH: or not. i'm m.i.a. tonight. got soccer, then freshdirect delivery, then remixing my drum and bass cassingle.
AK: perhaps maryland basketball jerseys? try to play a pick-up game inside until we get kicked out.
MT: who's Elizabeth Spiers? is this some sort of "hip" scene? should i bring the Squizzle? i'm meeting Chris (The Army or Whatever) at the Johnson's at 10 to talk shop, but i'd be up for HiFi around 9. i'll call you, Krucoff. seriously, who is this chick?
(Side conversation starts)
AK: she was gawker and now does something similar for new york mag. she went to duke so i joke about that.
MT: she went to Duke? i'll pass.
(Side conversation ends)
DC: i am at Lit from 9-11. then blackstar (sucks). anyone going to be out past midnight?
MT: you know, i think i'm going to be. doesn't take much. call me, Dennis. this week has SUCKED. last night's game was just the capper. but i'm ready to drink myself into displacement.
RK: espiers is new york magazine's official blogger. she does the kicker. mike, what shop are you and chris talking about? you should just tell him to go to hifi. drink schopps. i might be up for hifi around 9:30. gage, i'll call you. andy, what's gage's number?
CG: AK's got my number already (wink, wink). Only one lover at a time.
DC: if anyone wants to swing by blackstar and make out w/ some ITP sluts, dial me up around 11p. seriously. sluts.
AK: are any of us actually friends?
Predictably, only CG went with me and he left 10 minutes into it. MT showed up later as I was on the sixth drink slide down. Here's my re-cap of the evening over in the comments of a TMFTML post:
I stumbled into the secret blogger confab hosted by TMFTML in the East Village last night completely by accident. I stood on the periphery until my alcohol saturation reached levels of social confidence and stupor, a damning paradox. I can tell the unknowing and unwanted masses this, it was like the Al-Klonopin Roundtable. God knows what they were planning but Major Dick was shouting orders, spilling Makers on blueprints, and making Privates Spiers and Maccers run trench drills. Man, what a scene. The only reason they didn't kick me out was because my inability to form multi-syllabic words convinced them I couldn't understand what they were saying either. For those who haven't seen TMFTML and have a picture in your head what s/he looks like - hold on to that image - s/he looks EXACTLY how you thought. And if you're thinking Bull from Night Court or Emmanuel Lewis, well, both are right.
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