Archive for the Events Category

Coachella ella ella ella

Posted in Events, Music on April 24, 2009 by Lupa

It sounded like a really cool idea.   I was on Facebook and one of my old buddies from Jersey who lives in Miami was like, we’re going to Cali in April and going to go to Coachella.   I had no idea what Coachella was, I had never heard of it.

I looked at it and talked to them and it seemed cool enough. A three day concert festival in the desert with mad bands, and you camp out in tents.  I’m thinking, who cares if I don’t know the bands (and the ones I do I don’t like) this shit has gotta be one big fuckin party, and besides I had never really been to California before.

People hear that and think you have some sort of affliction.  “You have never been to Cali before?” and then they shake their head and don’t want to speak to you.   I went to LA once when I was 12 for a family members wedding, that’s it.  Short of that, I went a few years ago to San Fransisco, and we all know that doesn’t really count as going to California.

The thing is, from jump I realized I had not envisioned this correctly at all.  We pull up and after going through the amazing bullshit task of shleping everything for the car to the site, I realize, wait, this shit is not on sand.  I’m sorry, but when someone says “desert” to me, I’m thinking fuckin sand.  I’m like ok, grass and dirt is cool I guess, what’s the difference, that’s aesthetic.

However at that moment I realized, if I could be so off base on such a simple detail, what else was I wrong about.  Turns out a lot.

For one thing, this is a crowd of people I had never experienced in my life before and I mean ever.  If my old buddy from Jersey wasn’t there I would have thought it was a dream.  When I left Jersey I moved to NY, and when my man left Jersey he moved to Miami.  You don’t find these people in Jersey, NYC or Miami.  This crowd was on some hippie meets European (even though they are American) meets new new new was age gay modern rock, meets straight non urban crown.  This shit is 2 hours from LA, in the middle of nowhere.  On top of that they westcoast bias.  Some bitch OVERHEARD me talk to someone else and she says, “are you like, from the eastcoast?’  I was like yeah, and she made a face.  I was thinking, bitch just get out of my face.

Anyway, all that shit aside, I go into it with an open mind and I’m looking to have fun.  Problem is, even from the beginning shit was like one bullshit after the next.  Let me say this, putting up a tent in the dark while drunk when you never did it is a NIGHTMARE.

It’s Friday morning, the show goes from noon to midnight every night.  The people I came with needed bud so I go into scavenger mode looking for people who have bud.  We smell these people in the tent next us smoking so I’m like lets just roll up on them.  I hear one of them say something about Colorado and I’m like, “Who said Colorado.”  Next thing we know we’re buring with these hippie college kids.

I step out to have a cigarette and end up going back to the tent but my boy stayed back and smoked more.  I go back to the tent and pour another drink and my man rolls up with this look on his face.  I’m like, what happened.  He’s like dude, I was just smoking telling this kid about shit and he whips out a bag filled with nitrous and huffing that shit and after I finish what I’m saying he goes, “what? HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA”  I was like, sketchy!

That was another bad thing, you couldn’t bring your own liquor in.  We had to grease one of the door guys to get our shit in.  You’d think they would at least let you bring liquor to the camping area.

Because you can not enter and leave the concert area, we decided we needed to go in at about 4 or 5, or else we wouldn’t last until the end.  I have my Ipod dock which has speakers on it bumpin, my tunes are blaring, I’m feeling nice.  Only problem is, everyone hated all the shit I played.  It turned into a personal challenge, I was like I have to have something people that go to this feel.  Turns out no, and I have a lot of shit.  The only shit they like is the shit that was playing there: gay, new age rock and gay, new age tempo with the same beat (ready: kick, snare, kick, snare at 125 BPMs)

No matter.  We make our way to the concert area.  We don’t know any of the bands so we just try to walk around check out whats playing.  The whole area is huge.  The have 4 stages, a Heineken dome (which was really cool) some other dome and all of these outdoor visual things.  The visual shit and art was actually the coolest of all.  The main stage was pretty phat too though, they had to gigantic monitors so it didn’t matter where you were you could see everything perfect on those. 

Time goes by and I lose track of it.  next thing I know I’m separated from my boy and really drunk.  I’m like fuck, this sucks.  When I thought it couldn’t get any worse, the first act I actually new came on, and it was pretty.

Out of nowhere, Morissey fuckin comes blaring through the speakers.  Morrisey is not for me at all, I hate his music.  I thought I was gonna have a fuckin panic attack when I knew I was going to have listen to his shit.  It’s not that he is not witty and I’m not the most familiar with him or the Smiths, but everything from him I have heard I have wanted to burn and then put in a shredder.  His music sucked, but he is a really good performer at least.

Finally after he was done was the highlight of the whole festival in my opinion: Paul McCartney.  I read shit when I came home about how great his performance was, and they are not bullshitting at all.   I have a new found respect for Paul McCartner, the man is 67 years old and pulled off 2.5 hours flawlessly.  I read he said it was the desert climate which got him in a great mood.  Whatever it was, he fuckin kicked ass.  Ran through all the Paul Beatles songs, Wings, solo Paul, the man knows what people want to hear.  At one point he said it was the anniversary of his wife Linda’s death and he played a song he wrote for her.  Then right after that he played a song he wrote for Lennon after he died.  Killer, killer shit.  The man moves from bass, to piano, to guitar, to fuckin mandolin, he’s got that shit all on lock and his voice sounded impeccable.

What could have fucked up that night?  Well some dipshit ran over a fire hydrant, so that long as dirt road you have to walk through to get back to camp turned into one big ass mud river, and I got my flip flops on.  I get back to camp, drink it up some more and call it a night.

I wake up at like 6 in the morning a say shit, I better take a fuckin shower now because this shit is gonna be filled up.  Turns out that was a great idea.  While all those slackers were sleepin, I was bathin.  Another day goes by just drinkin, smokin some bud, and still no one like my Ipod music.  I tell them hey, this shit is a dictatorship, not a democracy.  I’m the one with the bangin portable Ipod dock with nice ass bass on it, so I pick what goes on that shit.  You can give me your Ipod to play, but I’m still master.

The second day I actually looked at the schedule.  There was no shit I wanted to see that day except Spearhead on the main stage.  the closing acts were the Yeah Yeah Yeahs (NO NO NO) and the Killers, both of which I would have traded for root canal.

Can you believe I had to wait 30 minutes for tap water in the festival.  30 MINUTES??  I paid almost 400 dollars for my shit, we’re in a recession, and I had to wait 30 minutes for tap water.  I had people there ready for revolution.

Despite pledging to not get split up again, we did, and because I had been in the desert sun all day and was really drunk, I came back that night early and decided to take a party on the go with me.  I loaded up the Ipod dock and decided to mingle.  

I meet SOME cool people, but honestly most people were kinda dicks.  They still hated my music, and the more I drank the less I cared what I put on.  I started putting shit I knew they would hate, my hardest rap, fuckin reggeaton, country.  I was like if they are gonna hate, at least let me love it.

I get back to the tent and my friend is there.  Turns out he ate a weed cookie and was really, really fucked up.  He was like, “Alex, you wouldn’t believe the bullshit that is going on here.”  I was like what?  He said I was at the dance dome and this bitch was crying and dancing at the same time and it bugged me out.  I was like crying AND dancing at the same time?  That shit is weird as hell.  Honestly, that sums up Coachella for me and my man: weird.  Weird people, weird bands.

The next day we had it with all the bullshit of being constantly around people, in the desert heat and were like, fuck this we are selling our 3 days pass and getting the fuck out of here.  On top of that, I needed to take a bad, bad shit.  I shit right when we got there on thursday night.  Now it was Sunday, I needed to shit and the toilets looked like some shit out of my worst nightmare.  Filled with shit, smelling nasty and marinating in 100 degree heat.  I said, under no circumstances am I shitting in that, I don’t give a fuck what we need to do, I need to leave and take a shit somewhere else.

After we take care of that, we tell the other people we are with (none of whom I actually knew besides my friend) we’re fuckin bouncing in the rental and what up with their plans.  We’ll really it wasn’t like that, but the other people that came had an SUV, so we gladly carried all of their shit, and our own shit, and then got the fuck out of there.

On the way back we pigged the fuck out at Sizzler and then went back to our friends crib in LA beat as hell.  It was an experience, but no matter how much I liked the bands, I would not camp at that shit again.  The third day I had wanted to see Public Enemy, but I was not staying for that.  I don’t know who else, but the Cure closed the show out and I was actually interested in seeing that.

I guess at some point I can look back at that and say I was there, if nothing else for Paul.  Like I said, that was a great, great performance and I think one people will be saying they saw in the years to come.

My biggest dissapointment actually was that it wasn’t the party I thought it was gonna be.  Yeah people were getting all osrts of fucked up.  People had coke which boggled my mind.  You are in the desert sniffing coke?  do you WANT to have a heartattack.  People were tripping on all sorts of shit, but the party vibe was real foreign.  Top it off, partying was secondary to everyone.  They actually came to see the show and they knew the bands.

In any event, I still had fun.  I got to go to Venice, Santa Monica and hit the In & Out Burger.  To me the In and Out Burger is like  Mecca, I had it once in San Fran and I was hooked.  You guys don’t know how good you have it out there with that.

Penthouse Club Denver 5th Year Anniversary

Posted in Events on April 9, 2009 by Lupa

Finding events to cover for LIB out here in Denver is a much bigger challenge than it was in NY, however I guess that’s one of the breaks of trying to get an education. Luckily my friend Lainie at Penthouse was kind enough to hook me up with the good people over at the Penthouse Club here in Denver for their 5th Anniversary celebration.

Penthouse Denver is owned by VCGH Holdings (NASDAQ: VCGH), which also own 4 other clubs in the Denver area, as well as clubs all over the U.S. The company owns, manages and acquires nightclubs, which provide premium live adult entertainment and upscale restaurant and beverage services in a first class environment targeting affluent patrons. In other words, they have the strip club game on lock here in Denver.

Prior to being the Penthouse club, the club was a PT’s Showclub, part of a well known chain of gentleman’s clubs going back over thirty years. After a 1.5 million dollar renovation, they reopened in 2004 as the Penthouse Club.

The club has a very nice décor, and one of the things I like the most are the very high ceilings. They have this one stripper pole that goes to the top and everyone now and then you’ll see a zealous lady go all the way to the top. It looks more like a pole in a firehouse than a stripper pole. The place definitely has a lot of breathing room.

The club was celebrating their anniversary all week with various events, and on the night I stopped by they had an amateur competition hosted by local 106.7 KBPI radio personality Uncle Nasty. Uncle Nasty is hugely popular in Denver; in fact the people I know here that I told I went were more interested in hearing about him than the event. Someone even referred to him as a local legend, kind of like their Howard Stern. I got a pic of him with the Penthouse gazelle, though I thought it was a kind of deer. I said I’m not from around here, all the animals I’m familiar with are rats, roaches, dogs and two legged snakes. Unfortunately that is basically the extent of the pics for that evening, as taking pics in a strip club is kind of like taking pictures of the mafia.
The club was decked out in celebration mode, with balloons and all sorts of things.

I thought the place was packed, but I heard that it gets even more packed than that sometimes. In any event, it didn’t look like there was a recession going on in here. It was easy to feel the atmosphere was not that of a typical Friday night.

Being the VIP that I am, I got to hang out and take in the party from the VIP lounge which towers above the main floor. Okay, I’m not a VIP; I’m more like a KIP (Kinda Important Person). Scratch that, I’m a NIP (Not Important Person), which made hanging in VIP feel like being a double agent spy. Up there they have a fireplace, their own bar, bunch of flat screens. It’s good to be VIP. Being VIP however, comes with its price, but I find it is a price many are willing to pay. For $1,750.00 a year (that’s dollars, not Pesos, I made sure to clarify that) you get free admittance whenever you want to any of VCGH’s clubs all over the U.S. and get to hang out in the VIP section all you want.

Before the competition I got to chat with Uncle Nasty and his producer/on air partner Mike Need. It was obvious why he is so popular; Uncle Nasty has personality for days, the life of the party type of personality. He told me he was a huge fan of mine, and I was humbled. Actually, that’s not true, no one knew who I was or even knew beforehand who I write for, but they do now.

I’m not sure how many of the girls were legit amateurs with no previous stripping or dancing experience, but let’s say if they are, they look like they are ready for the stripper draft any day now. I have to say one of them had one of the nicest pair of natural breasteses I had ever seen. In fact that was a topic of discussion, like “are they real?” The consensus was that they were in fact genuine.

A competition like that makes you realize that in general, men are more magnanimous in their losing than women. The contest was judged by a noise meter. When a couple of girls almost broke the noise meter, you could see the other girls had hate in their eyes and all over they’re face. Guys have too much pride; we’d act like it didn’t bother us. 500 bucks is 500 bucks though, and the ladies wanted to get paid.

Before I knew it, it was time to leave, and thus ended my evening at the Penthouse Club. I thought VIP after hours was like crazy orgies and bottles flowing, but it’s actually really closing time. I guess they could see that on my face and they said, “AL, this ain’t New York.” I can dig it a, club run by the books, who knew?

I extended my services to the club. I told them hey, I’ll be willing to hang out here all the time, make it for me like the Bada Bing was to Tony Soprano and in return I’ll write about how Wed mid afternoon was. I don’t think they were interested, but I hope to go back the next time they have a major event in the future.

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