A recollection of the weeks past

I should probably begin by saying I should blog more. I realized that too much happens between blogs to write infrequently. Don't know who reads this, but they probably think that all AJP and I do is go to a bar once in a while and see random things on the street. Which is mostly true, but multiplied by about 100. Take last weekend for example. Last weekend was a little meatpacking district experience. The meatpacking district, for you people not familiar with the city (you people exist?) used to be this REAL grimey area apparently. When I say meatpacking, i mean MEAT PACKING.

Rewind ten years, this little block of land was full of transvestite prostitutes, the purple suited pimps that would well...pimp them, drug dealers, and a bunch of other charming characters you know your mom would love. Anyway, a while back a couple people started building clubs, restaurants, hotels, you name it. Long story short, no ladies with adams apples staring at little boys in back alleys. You get the disturbing picture. SO....fast forward ten years and this place is packed with some New Yorkers, some New Jerseyans (?) and some guys named Sven that think they're the king of Norway. They might as well be, because I couldn't care less. Oh, and some coked-up skanks that think they're hot but have never been to Europe to see a REAL beauty. Ok there's some cool people that go, its a big international hangout, which I love. Anyway, the crowd isn't exactly the deepest bunch around. Still, if you go with a bunch of friends you'll have a pretty good time. Best thing is just getting a table (look, you're gonna drink a ton anyway, might as well get some space) and hit the dancefloor whenever you feel like it.

So moving on, we went to tenjune last weekend (supposedly one of the hot spots in nyc) for a fashion week afterparty. I'm thinking fashion week afterparty, I'm thinking 20-something year old models trying to strike a pose. True to some extent, except you also had a bunch of women that looked like they were models maybe 30 years ago. Interesting sight. They still have the runway walk down. Not that I was paying any attention, we were chilling with a couple of cool ladies from DC. After tenjune, you hit up The Diner which is up the street for some 4am kobe sliders and you're all set. Cool little spot, dark, has music, and you can find it with your blurry little eyes pretty easily.

Was it two weeks ago that I went to Robbie Rivera? I forget maaaaan. There's a lot thats happened since then. Good time, music was good, people were godawful. Watch the video for the music, not the people. Funny thing is, we'd tell people we're going to Robbie Rivera, and they were like "Oh awesome, where is it?". So I'd tell them it was at Webster Hall and watch their faces melt with disgust. Funny sight, if you ever want to alienate people tell them you go to Webster Hall ALL THE TIME. WOOOOOHOOO. I'd never been so I thought people were overexaggerating a little bit. Still, its a DJ I like so I'm thinking, why not. Oh man. OH MAN. When you look up Bridge and Tunnel in the dictionary there's a picture of the front entrance. Place was packed with dudes with the spikey hair and chains, and girls with the H&M typical stupid slutty dress. You know the type. The one girls here like to wear when its maybe -5 degrees (Celsius that is, don't ask me about Fahrenheit) and it barely covers their ass. Oh, and they throw on some 15 dollar shoes and they think they're Bar Rafaeli. Class class class. Please girl, do everyone a favor and cover your orange peel legs. Thanks.

So we go up to this place, line is around the block to get in. Ok, we think, this should be a good night. My boy AJP here tips the guy up front, we don't wait in no line. This club is absolutely empty inside. I mean there's no one there for a good hour and a half. Funny thing is, this place has two levels, and when it filled up, there were wayyy more people on the hip hop level than there were to see the actual DJ. Excuse me miss, one of the top ten DJ's in the world is spinning records upstairs and you're grinding with some dude named Gino to "Get Low". I don't have anything against hip hop, but time and place for everything. Never again ma man.
Anyway, time to get ready for another night of H&M dresses and guys named Sven. Adios amigos.