Recovering From New Year’s With Bingo at Bowery Poetry Club

I’m still hurting. This holiday season has beaten me down. It feels like I spent most of it in the car driving from one bogus hamlet to another smiling at people who think I personally killed Jesus. Yeah…it was like that. New Year’s Eve had me at Goldbar where I witnessed what has to be the most pathetic couple out that night — or any night. I am pretty sure I found them but am willing to hear about others. So, I’m outside enjoying the beautiful, although a bit apocalyptic Mayan, weather, waiting to DJ, when this heavily accented pair stumbled up to the ropes. It was an 11pm stumble, not the 2- or 4ams that would dominate later. They asked for entry and pulled out an 8 1/2 by 11 inch paper that would supposedly open up the velvets for them.

"We’re here for the open bar," they declared in a heavy but unfortunately understandable accent. The doorman was confused. "We’re not doing anything like that here!" "This is Goldbar!?!" they demanded, shoving forward their paper. "Yes. Let me see that," the helpful door dude queried. He and a couple of the security guys looked at the dream sheet. The door dude explained, "Er…this is for Goldbar in Australia". After an unbelievable long exchange of "that’s impossibles" and "look, it says it right heres," the conversation digressed into them angrily explaining that it "i’sn’t their fault" and they "should be let in" These two couldn’t be let in and would continue this argument well into the night. I eventually stepped in and steered them to the Lower East Side where standards are always a bit lower.

Sunday was a headache and a stomach ache and cloudy eyes and a pillow that wouldn’t let go. I only had one drink…but it might have been a big one. I thanked the stars and moon and Jupiter (which is, by the way, that bright thing hanging next to it these nights) that I and most of my world had the day off — and on Monday, too. Monday was spent driving and walking around waiting for an evening planned at the Bowery Poetry Club. At 6:30 we caught Warhol legend-in-resident Taylor Meade who was in rare form. The octogenarian poet had a packed house reeling with laughter as he recited his poems, showed us his art, and told us stories about a life spent with Andy and that crew. A story of an embarrassing encounter with Jackie O. underscored the depth of this genius’s life. Taylor is unpredictable. He literally takes random paper out of an old bag and reads what comes. Sometimes he is a bit lost or uninterested, but more than not he is enlightening. He just celebrated his 87th birthday, and although the body is frail the mind and wit is still intact. We were mesmerized and enchanted.

We kept our seats for what the local yokels call "Tranny Bingo." It’s so much more than that. The wonderful Linda Simpson and Mr. Showbiz himself Murray Hill run with this BINGO ball thing every Monday, and we go as often as possible. They don’t need this plug as it’s packed out the door on most weeks. It is the best game in town. I won the big jackpot round this week as I had the hottest card in the room. I needed one number on nine different occasions on that very card, and felt going into the final round I couldn’t fail. I shared the grand prize with two others and went into the night to have breakfast at IHOP on 14th and 2nd where I am a regular. It was a predictable Monday night for me and my crew. We needed predictable after a season that seemed to start months ago… well maybe it did. I’m going to be a little weak this week and I do ask for forgiveness.

Oh… my New Year’s resolution??? IHOP and it’s lucious omelettes have me bound to breaking eggs. So my resolution is "NO MORE MR. NICE GUY." Stay tuned — tomorrow I’m gonna rip someone an asshole which means there will be two of them in one silly place.

Tonight: Maxim’s ‘World’s Most Beautiful Women’ Party, Domi Dollz’ ‘Shades of Kink’

If Maxim has decided to throw a party for the WORLD’S MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMEN. who am I to argue. They have named the HOT 100 and made a list and I checked it (twice). Some actual top 100s are going to be at this event being held tonight at The Gallery at Dream Downtown hotel, 355 West 16th Street. The music will be brought to you by DJ Vice, underlying that this is a big event – a hot event. Among the attendees is the number one hottest girl in the world from their list (my list has Amanda at the very top): Bar Refaeli. Others who you can strike out with include: Abby Elliot (Saturday Night Live), April Rose (model), Bria Murphy (model), Claire Coffee (General Hospital), Jessica Rafalowski (model), Jenny “JWOWW” Farley (MTV’s The Jersey Shore), Katrina Bowden (30 Rock), Nadia G (TV personality), Rebecca Mader (actress), and many more. This list thing is 12 years young and for the first time ever, the Maxim readers made the selection. What to wear?

Some prophet once said beauty is "in the eye of the beholder" and another said "beauty is only skin deep.” This beholder’s eyes think beauty must have skin covered with tattoos. For me, it don’t mean thing if it don’t have that sting. So I’m sure to find hottie heaven at the 6th Annual NYC Zombie Crawl in my native Williamsburg, Brooklyn this Sunday. It’s presented by the new Resident Evil video game and the BBURG requisite Sailor Jerry Rum and Pabst Blue Ribbon. People will be running around in Halloween in May gear with the grand finale at Public Assembly, 70 North 6th Street, where the girls of burningangel.com will offer up Strip for Pain "America’s Most Dangerous Game Show.” For me, this trumps Maxim’s hot list, but I can appreciate both sides of the coin… even it’s an edge.

Public Assembly will hold live performances by Bikini Carwash (9pm) and Fucking Bullshit (9:45pm). There will be a Rigor Mortis Burlesque Revue, prizes for the best costumes…well, you get the idea. The Zombie Crawl begins at 3:30pm at The Trash Bar, 256 Grand Street, where makeup technicians will, for a small fee ($5), make you look undead. At 3:30 pm on a Sunday in Williamsburg, everyone looks a little undead anyway. Then it’s on to The Grand Victory, 245 Grand Street, where additional Zombie action will be rampant. By 6pm it’s a march down Bedford Avenue, where all will pop into Spike Hill, 186 Bedford, for "flesh hook" performances by Nassau Chainsaw DisGraCeLand Demolition Committee. All will gather after in McCarren Park for photo-ops and a chance to confuse the tourists and nouveau hipsters who discovered Williamsburg by watching HBO’s epic series Girls.

If the Sailor Jerry Rum and PBR’s haven’t gotten the best of me and mine, we’ll head to Bowery Poetry Club, 306 Bowery at Houston, to take in Linda Simpson’s new party "Exhibit A,” Sunday at 10pm, $5.

Exhibit A promises to take "the spectator on an absurd and erotic journey.” That sounds a lot like my third marriage, so I’m there. This is a last-Sunday-of-every- month affair, which sounds like my second marriage. On stage, there will be experimental drag rules, high-concept hostess Sylvia London, sexual outlaw Alexis Blair Penney, and non-stop butch and femme orgy by Dollhaus and Dj Chris P.

Tonight, (and I have told you about this before; pay attention or a spanking may be in order), Domi Dollz presents “Shades of Kink” at – where else – the Museum of Sex, 233 5th Avenue at 27th Street. This event will show you the ropes and other ways to spice up your love life. It’s a perfect place for a couple looking for answers to all the wrong questions and for singles looking for Mr. or Ms. right or wrong. If you have been looking for love in all the wrong places, then this place is perfect for you. It is way wrong – and right.

Taylor Mead at Last Night’s Bingo, Addressing the Adam Hock-Prince Pierre Casiraghi Brawl

The Academy Awards were delicious. I enjoyed the show, the choice of movies, the actors featured, and most of Billy Crystal’s schtick. I especially enjoyed watching it at home with delicious popcorn and other treats and my delicious Amanda. Foregoing the bull-chit banter and bad hors d’oeuvres at some Oscar party is the way to go. Although I was aware of The Artist for eons before it came out and wanted to go day 1… life got in the way and so I vowed to go last night and nothing was going to stop me.

Monday is of course BINGO night at Bowery Poetry Club. If you want to whack me or serve me with papers or get my autograph, you can find me there. I sit up front and personal so I can catch every delicious word from co-hosts Murray Hill and Linda Simpson. This Monday night happening needs no plug from me as it sells out virtually every night and has for years. I arrive very early to wind down from my day jobs and  to catch 87-year-old Taylor Mead. Taylor is best known as an Andy Warhol luminary, but he is so much more. It wasn’t Andy that made Taylor fabulous…he was fabulous so Andy wanted to have him around. Google him…find out more…or come around 6pm on any Monday to catch him reading from his life’s work.
 
One of the highlights of Taylor’s schtick is the reminiscing about his life less ordinary. Last night, he told of a play he was in in Boston back in the ’70s. He found himself late-night in Chinatown at a table with actor John Cazale (Fredo in The Godfather, Deer Hunter, Dog Day Afternoon) and Meryl Streep. Meryl was dating Mr. Cazale, who died young, of cancer. She was unknown and quiet then and Taylor thought she was sort of dull, "like a statue." He lamented not quite breaking it to the big time because "I never sold out… Elizabeth Taylor, Meryl Streep all sold out. I never sold out…I tried to… I spent three months with her, everyday." It continues like this for around 45 minutes as the BINGO crowd comes in and are blown away by this frail man and his sharp mind. A satchel containing loose notes sits beside him while a small boombox plays Mingus, to underscore his dirty poems. He randomly pulls art and poetry and notes from the satchel, reads them, and goes off on delicious tangents. He says that Harvard is taking his papers this summer. They currently occupy garbage bags in his cramped apartment. He says he is hesitating, as a friend has told him Harvard will just bury the work. Talk raced from the 30th anniversary of the Faukland Islands war between Argentina and Great Britain and chance sexual encounters of days of yore. Taylor has been particularly brilliant recently as the full room seems to have inspired him. Let me know if you’re coming and I’ll save you a seat.
 
Murray Hill will be around for a bit but will soon scoot off to tour with Dita Von Teese on the West Coast. BINGO on Mondays at Bowery Poetry Club is the best game in town. After BINGO, I scooted off to see The Artist and, of course, was blown away. The big movies at this years Oscars were not box office bonanzas. The Artist has taken in under $40 million, The Descendents with Clooney star power under $80 million, and films like Iron Lady and The Tree of Life appealing to smaller audiences than the big films of years ago, like Titanic, Avatar, Star Wars and all that romantic comedy stuff that make bank. For instance, Bridesmaids is up around $288 million. Hollywood gold went to more artistic fare, less commercial offerings. The art of making big money on your art is a very Warholian concept.  I’m going to buy Taylor a drink next Monday and discuss.
 
I have been asked to write something clever about the brawl between clubber Adam Hock and Prince Pierre Casiraghi of Monaco at The Double Seven last week. I started my research by calling The Double Seven’s Mark Baker to get the inside scoop. Baker was speechless – not a common occurrence for him. He referred me to Jeffrey Jah who reportedly was there when the shit hit the fan-tastic Prince and his entourage or vice versa, depending on whose PR has the ear of what publication. I have been told there was blood but not a lot of real guts displayed by anyone involved. A big guy hit a famous, fabulous, and rich guy and others meekly or weakly got involved. My old pal Sal Strazzullo is the attorney that will try to help Adam Hock stay out of jail and not have to hock everything he owns to settle a possible lawsuit. Sal said in the Daily News that the Prince and his pals "think New York is their honeycomb. They think they can come here and do whatever they want".
 
I’ve never been a fan of Adam Hock but don’t have anything against him either, but the spin Strazullo puts on it makes Adam seem like a hero in the eyes of the hoi polloi. He is our champion. It was almost his sacred duty punching out those rich famous young people making all that noise. Sal continued: "They wanted some recognition [from the women] and it happened because of that. My client acted in self -defense, it was an unprovoked attack. I don’t know why Mr Casiraghi got jealous about my client – he is from a humble background." He added: "My client is not Bruce Lee… These four guys are trust-fund babies who think the world is owed to them. They are like spoiled brats."
 
I decided not to look for the truth. My time would be better served by ignoring this raging bull-chit and seeing another movie nominated for the Oscars, like Iron Lady. I think Margaret and probably Meryl could kick all their asses. If I got it right, according to the attorney, it seems that Adam Hock did what we all secretly yearn to do: what needed to be done and about time at that. He did it for us all. Those royals and their buddies and their beautiful women better behave…or else. There might be some truth in that, but on the other hand Adam might have actually behaved badly. I won’t seek the truth because I suspect that old Oscar buddy Jack Nicholson got it right… I can’t handle the truth. Now that’s entertainment.

At Lit Lounge: The Hottest Person to Ever Say Hi to Me & The Melvins

It started innocently enough; a Sunday night stroll through the hood and a look-what-we-found by the trash and the decision to give this sassy little painting to our friend Adam at his new tattoo shop Magic Cobra Tattoo Society (775 Driggs Ave., off South 3rd). The next thing you know I’m getting yet another pin-up tattoo. No worries, I’ll only have it for the rest of my life… and besides, I love it more than the dinner I was craving at Pies-n-Thighs. Adam Korothy did the honors on me while his partner-in-crime Kati Vaughn did my partner-in-crime Amanda’s tattoo. While I was there and half naked, we added a little to the "boxing babe" on the back of my arm who preaches my downfall with "I LIKE ‘EM SASSY.” Adam retraced the large damsel in distress on my bicep who proclaims…lest I forget … "DON’T BET ON DAMES.” We were looking forward to the Inked Magazine “Sex D.R.U.G.S. & ROCK ‘N’ ROLL” issue party Monday at Lit Lounge, my favorite hole-in-the-wall, and figured the new ink would set the right tone.

Monday night we gathered our regulars and BINGO’ed at Bowery Poetry Club as usual and, of course, the usual and unusual Linda Simpson and the returning Murray Hill kept us laughing and praying and begging for ultra-important things like  N31 or O67. B Bar barkeep and his lovely Katie won big, representing our tables large. After the last chance at Bingo glory was over, we kissed our friends goodbye and popped into the jammed Lit. We headed to the attached FUSE Gallery space which was the VIP holding pen.

There, it was decided that LIT/Fuse honcho Erik Foss, and A.R.E Weapons drummer Eric Rabin and I were going to get bro tattoos from Jes of Smoking Tattoos (18 St Marks Place). We three musketeers got cobwebs from the fabulous Jes. Mine says Lit. The cobwebs represent the many great years that the old club has given us and carries the hopes of many more.

Back at the Inked event, the Jagermeister and slamming DJs kept the usually incoherent rockers positively stoopified. Former Inked cover girl and quite possibly the hottest person who ever said "hello" to me, Alesandra Nicole, who I was told was a model / Internet celebrity kept me mesmerized and fearful of my life. 

Steve Lewis tattoo Amanda and I had our usual "that’s the kind of girl you should be dating" chat and I swore allegiance and pointed to our still-healing matching tattoos. I spied or was told these fab folk were there, Joshua Wildman (artist/photographer), Gen of Genatorturers, tattoo model Raquel Reed, chef Chris Santos, Steven Tyler’s daughter Mia, and artist Nikki Sneakers. We got to chat up the wonderful Zosia Mamet who we just love, love love in Girls.

Lit is banging all week with Natacha Sanchez and Just C presenting Worlds Collide 4 tonight with performances from Gswagga, AHGEDA, and Streight Angular and DJs El Rojo, OG Chino, and Sonido Confirmacion.

On Friday night Brent Barber and his Bicycle Film Festival has their 12-year opening anniversary party at Lit starting at 9pm. It figures to go real late.

The whole thing will culminate with a huge bang Saturday night when Melvins and Hammerhead play LIT in a very small intimate engagement Erik Foss told me is his "dream come true! Only next to Elliot Smith playing his last NY show here, nothing this monumental has happened at Lit before.” Save maybe the night I walked in with Ron Jeremy and a bunch of gals left with my number one.

Lit remains a reason to be cheerful. It is an old-school saloon-type joint that hits hard when it hits. The Melvins will be an incredible show and I will be there. 

 

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This Just In: DJs Erick Morillo & Afrojack Join Pacha Benefit

This old guy once wrote: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way…." The quote begins Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities.  He continued  "…in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only." Mr. Dickens offered this tome in 1859, but was referring back to the French Revolution days. He might as well have been talking about now, for New York is a tale of two cities. While many of us are sipping lattes and talking football and going to parties, others are struggling in the cold, displaced and in despair.  It is the worst of times for so many of our neighbors while most of us are busy as bees, forgetting the destruction and "inconvenience" the storm brought, and readying for the holidays.

Last night at BINGO at Hotel Chantelle, a packed house laughed and squealed with joy as regular hosts Murray Hill and Linda Simpson returned to the stage after a two-week Sandy-induced hiatus. They were joined by Michael Musto who proved to be a joy. Like almost every event worth mentioning these days, this night was dedicated to raising money for victims of Sandy. Specifically, BINGO raised much-needed funds for the Ali Forney Center which was flooded by the imperfect storm. Homeless LGBTQ homeless youth can drop in when they need a place. 

Tonight I will party like nothing ever happened at The Electric Room where the dapper Nick Marc will celebrate yet another birthday. Partner-in-crime Justine D. will DJ. Kodi Najm of Hypernova will host. There are rumors of a proper English celebration with everyone involved partaking in heavy drinking and partying. This is rock and roll, followed by some rock and roll and then quite a bit more rock and roll. I’ll be there.

Tomorrow night, Richie Romero will celebrate his birthday and has tasked me to open up for real DJs Jesse Marco and ?uestlove. This affair is at 1OAK and I am very excited about it. I love the staff of OAK and, of course, Mr. Romero. As is his way, Richie was complaining about his age and other trivialities. I’m going to play tracks older than him to cheer him up. I reminded him that I have shoes that are older than he.

As I wrote the other day, I will then whisk myself up to Pacha for their Help Heal New York Sandy benefit where they have me bartending. Since I will have my CDs and headphones with me, I stand ready to pitch in if one of the following DJs fail to deliver: DANNY TENAGLIA, FRANCOIS K, SUNNERY JAMES & RYAN MARCIANO,  Chainsmoker, SHERMANOLOGY, DANNY AVILA, D BERRIE, AUDIEN HARRY, CHOO CHOO ROMERO, SHAWNEE TAYLOR (live), CARL KENNEDY, HECTOR ROMERO ,DAVID WAXMAN, CEVIN FISHER ,THEO, HEX HECTOR, PAUL RAFFAELE, CODES, ROXY COTTONTAIL ,SAZON BOOYA, DALTON, SIK DUO, CARL LOUIS & MARTIN DANIELLE, PAIGE, BAMBI and THAT KID CHRIS. 

Just added as we go to press are superstar DJs Erick Morillo and Afrojack. This is a serious not to be missed event. There are some fabulous surprises that, because of conflicts and dotted i’s and such, can’t be listed here but will be appreciated there. Among that illustrious crew are DJs from my management company 4AM. Chainsmokers are whisking in from Singapore and are off on tour but are stopping by for this fundraiser. Dalton has been debuting his new house tracks along the Northeast corridor, making stops in D.C., Boston, and Philly. 4AM just booked me for New Year’s Eve … yeah, it’s coming up fast.

Please help those still without, and as the holidays approach, be aware of those unable to have a normal celebration. Help where you can.

MONDAY FUNDAY: Tonight’s Top NYC Events

So it’s the first day of the work week and there are four more days to go. We get it. But why ruminate when you can start to make Mondays the best night of the week? This weekly column is devoted to finding the best events across NYC hosted by individuals and places that are doing amazing, crazy, wild, sexy things on Monday nights. And we’re here to honor them. Here are tonight’s top events.

See something beautiful: 
Launching tonight is Time Warner Center’s star-studded holiday light display. Twelve 14-foot LED stars will dance and flash to Yuletide tunes, illuminating Columbus Circle. After, grab a cocktail at Warner’s new fourth-floor lounge overlooking Central Park: Center BarThe light show runs until Jan. 3rd. All the details here.

Do something crazy:
At LES nightclub Hotel Chantelle, there’s a legendary weekly game called Drag Bingo that’s attracted people from all across the globe. The celebrity drag hosts – Murray Hill and Linda Simpson – give away ridiculous, crappy prizes (like cat figurines and sheep slippers), and tell saucy stories about their past sexcapades. The best part: in the third-to-last round, winners strip down to just a couple of paper plates to cover up. Feeling adventurous? This is your place. The games begin at 7:30pm and last until 10pm. Happy Hour starts at 7pm. All the details here.

Watch something classic:
The Academy Award-winning 1975 crime drama Dog Day Afternoon, starring Al Pacino and directed by Sidney Lumet, opens tonight, 9pm at the East Village’s Anthology Film Archives. Watch the heist go wrong until Saturday the 8th.  And when you’re done, have some post-film discussion at international beer haven d.b.a. on 1st Ave. All the movie details here.

Hear something special:
In NYC, there’s a deep yearning to hear something that’s truly new, fun, rich, and fresh – and that’s hard to find – but you’ll find it tonight at Rockwood Music Hall, where rising singer and songwriter David Alan Thornton debuts some of his top narrative-infused pop songs with a band of pros, including pop sextet The Dirty Gems’ Mark Sanderlin. Plus, it’s Thornton’s birthday show, making it an especially celebratory night that’s hard to resist – so don’t.
The concert starts at 10pm. All the details here.

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Natural Disasters & Drag Queen Bingo at Stand-Up NY

It’s looking real dark out there. Tonight may be your last night to party, as Hurricane Irene is promising weather realness. One club owner with a huge event on Saturday was contemplating canceling the affair, and may be moving it until next Friday. I’ll keep you posted. Meanwhile, all over town saloonkeepers are discussing cutting staff or closing altogether. We here in the Big Apple usually poo-poo these natural phenomena, as way too many false alarms have made us feel impervious to such events.

And yet the winter blizzards are still on our minds and this ginormous storm seems to have us in her sights. I can’t recall a good experience involving an Irene. The earthquake last week made us tough guys seem a little more vulnerable to Mother Nature’s whims. My favorite spiritualist says these things happen in threes…earthquake, hurricane—what could be next? Locusts? Meteorite showers? I scoured the internet for a clue and came to the conclusion that tonight’s Drag Queen Bingo at Stand-Up NY might just be the perfect storm. It might be that number three.

Stand-Up NY sits way up there at W. 78th Street. Linda Simpson will host her Bingo soiree starting at 10:30pm. I rarely venture north of 23rd Street, which is the new 14th Street, but I will surely attend. This will be a blast. Her Bingo with Mr. Murray Hill on Mondays at the Bowery Poetry Club continues to sell out and I am an irregular there.

The case of the Russian patrons buying 90 bottles of high end champagne and lots of other spirits at the infamous Billionaires Club in Sardinia — and then skipping out on the bill — must also be spurring management meetings all over town. The bill of 86,000 Euros, which I think is the equivalent of $125,000 (depending on how many bucks the Fed decides to print), has the Sardinian paramilitary police all in a tiff. The bill was guaranteed to a yacht, the Kismet, and all that, but it seems the joint is just going to have to Kiz’ those Euros goodbye. I read that they were just one group of many blowing through loot, spraying champagne on each other, and their antics didn’t raise an eyebrow. A bunch of young dudes spending 86,000 Euros on grape juice and nobody pays particular attention? And there are artists starving in Bushwick….The perps were described as “eight young Russians.” Be on the lookout! This may turn out to be a good thing, as I bet many a promoter type might be thinking of packing their bags and heading to Sardinia to get in on the action. Last night I told one such promoter fellow that I had actually visited Sardinia once. Wondering if they had the amenities he had become accustomed to, he asked me, “Oh, how did you find it?” I told him, “I made a right at Corsica.” Bada bing! I know, I know, you’ve heard that one before. Stick around and you’ll hear it again. I’ll be here all week, unless I drown.