Team Scenic arrived fashionably late at Sully's, which means we parked in the sketchy lot and everybody was already drunk. The big event was a benefit for a friend of the blog who apparently has diabetes and some giant medical bills, and that's serious stuff, but like murder and church burnin's, it's OK to have fun with it! Benefit party nights are the future of health care. Actually, they're the present. It's on.
Our only serious cultural discovery of the evening was Emilyis, who does some trip-hop/hip-hop flavored action (check her out!), is sexy, and has amazing hair. She used to be a fixture of Sully's infamous Tuesday nights, which we don't know anything about, and is currently NYC based - good luck, girl!
We weren't there to critique music. We came to party. We objectified women.
We met these hipsters.
LOL, the one on the right (with the femme jacket and giant safety pin thru his ear) got all offended when we called him the H-word and started asking him about Williamsburg and stuff. But then it got late and he wanted a ride to the Warehouse, which is where all the cool kids (old people, actually) seemed to be headed. He was all 'Those are my peeps there, I can get you in for free.' We'll take it!
It was true - they were his peeps, he got us in for free. Thanks, guy! We were a little put off by the cops hanging around by the parking lot entrance, but whatever - we're old as shit and not doing anything illegal! Our new friend took us to a "VIP" area, and not to brag or nothing, but we've been backstage places before (a lot), and usually when you go somewhere off-limits, someone immediately offers you some booze or drugs - or even some chocolate (thanks, Lacuna Coil, that was adorbs!). None were forthcoming. It was just some kids we went to high school with sitting around on couches. We needed a beverage. We got some beers at the bar and observed the natives.
WTF, is it the 90s? Who are these party monsters? How does the next generation learn just how to dress like tools for the club? We observed the sweaty bodies, bugged out eyes and shambling gaits and played an easy round of 'guess my chemical.'
The techno-whatever was really loud, and we weren't high, so pretty soon it was time to go. It was really late anyway. The end.
Our only serious cultural discovery of the evening was Emilyis, who does some trip-hop/hip-hop flavored action (check her out!), is sexy, and has amazing hair. She used to be a fixture of Sully's infamous Tuesday nights, which we don't know anything about, and is currently NYC based - good luck, girl!
We weren't there to critique music. We came to party. We objectified women.
We met these hipsters.
LOL, the one on the right (with the femme jacket and giant safety pin thru his ear) got all offended when we called him the H-word and started asking him about Williamsburg and stuff. But then it got late and he wanted a ride to the Warehouse, which is where all the cool kids (old people, actually) seemed to be headed. He was all 'Those are my peeps there, I can get you in for free.' We'll take it!
It was true - they were his peeps, he got us in for free. Thanks, guy! We were a little put off by the cops hanging around by the parking lot entrance, but whatever - we're old as shit and not doing anything illegal! Our new friend took us to a "VIP" area, and not to brag or nothing, but we've been backstage places before (a lot), and usually when you go somewhere off-limits, someone immediately offers you some booze or drugs - or even some chocolate (thanks, Lacuna Coil, that was adorbs!). None were forthcoming. It was just some kids we went to high school with sitting around on couches. We needed a beverage. We got some beers at the bar and observed the natives.
WTF, is it the 90s? Who are these party monsters? How does the next generation learn just how to dress like tools for the club? We observed the sweaty bodies, bugged out eyes and shambling gaits and played an easy round of 'guess my chemical.'
The techno-whatever was really loud, and we weren't high, so pretty soon it was time to go. It was really late anyway. The end.
Posts
call in the airstrike
ReplyDelete