Swazey
09-26-2008, 01:43 AM
Looks like LJ's pissin' off local DJs. This story took place last Friday (09/19).
http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=2347088&blogID=434582538
I’m such a fanboy.
Last night my lass and I went to the Plaza Art Fair. If you haven't gone yet, please allow me to co-sign on the experience and recommend a trip before the weekend is over. Some of the coolest physically assembled art that I have ever seen in my life is there in the tents, and it's on sale! I could have incinerated a cool $2,000 on metal pig sculptures, and strangely painted porcelain baby-heads, but this hasn't been a smart financial month for me. I am on punishment for certain actions. I did get a $2 cheese burger from the M&S Grille tent, though.
After the fair, we decided it would be a good idea to go clubbing. Ha, it's weird to type the word 'clubbin'' with a proper suffix. Clubbing.
Yes, so last night we decide to go visit our good friend, and favorite (besides Sku) dance DJ extraordinaire Shaun Duvall at a mildly swank, very dimly lit little club type place named Reverse. Reverse is located on the Country Club Plaza, and is a good place to go if you need an excuse to dress like an expensive whore, or purchase an entire bottle of Belvedere Vodka for yourself, but don't want to actually be at a crowded ass Kansas City club (like Mosaic, where Spin Styles DJ's.)
We walk to Reverse. We sneak into Reverse's side door instead of waiting in line. Then we immediately head down the twisted stairs, to the dingy and gloom basement area where Shaun was tautly wrecking the crowd with exclusive remixes of Little Dwayne songs, and infinitely-more-interesting-than-club-rap electronic dance cuts. It was fun. We ordered shots of Patron immediately, because oddly enough, when you aren't being barraged with the same 37 commercial rap songs about Patron, you get in the mood to dance. And when you dance, you need Patron. Shots of Patroooon.
A few shots deep, we decide the dance floor is entirely too crowded for us to be comfortable, so we use our celebrity passes and go to the vip area which was located behind Shaun Duvall. The vip area was the move. Easy to breathe, and very scarcely populated. In fact the only person utilizing the vip area was a well dressed brother with 2 cell phones, who was wearing gold shoes, ridiculously expensive sunglasses, and was treating himself to an entire bottle of chilled Belvedere Vodka while dancing to the classics. Oh, he was with some chick too.
A few more shots deep and I'm ready to socialize! Luckily, a friend of mine approaches me and tells me about a recent melee caused by Chiefs running back Larry Johnson. Apparently on Thursday night at Mosaic (a club I have never attended, located at the White Power District), Larry emptied 2 entire bottles of champagne onto Spin Styles' turntables. I have absolutely no idea why this happened, and I have been an acquaintance of Spin Styles for many, many years now, so I was nearly outraged. Like a gossiping bitch.
"No!"
"That's terrible."
"You can't be ****ing serious, man."
"This dude gets $40 trillion a season, and thinks he can just leisurely pour champagne all over somebody's hard-earned music equipment? **** that! I'm gonna blog about this. I don't care, whoop my ass! It needs to be said."
See I was pissed. Being a $20 million franchised running back probably distorts a few things for someone. You lose your grip on the concept of money, and the idea that if you get champagne spilled all over your DJ equipment, you don't get to just go spend a few thousand dollars on new equipment the next day. There are way more broke musicians than rich ones. I know when you're like Larry Johnson, who at one point (and still may) shared a luxurious New Jersey home with Jay-Z, you get all sorts of turntables and electric guitars to throw food and beverages at for fun after you break a hooker's neck and pay a few grand to have her body disposed of. But we don't have that kind of money... man.
Shaun Duvall was killing it. People were dancing their asses off. I was running my mouth to friends about Larry. Loudly.
"****in' dickhead. That's so rude. He's only had about 150 yards over the last 2 seasons."
Zap. I thought my friend Jason (whom had joined us in the vip section) was joking when he said,
"Um. So. Isn't that Larry Johnson right there with the gold shoes on?"
"Hahaha! That would be hilarious!" I bellowed.
"No man. That's Larry Johnson right there."
Silence. Shivers. Uh, yeah. That was Larry Johnson right there. Dancing. With about 3/4ths of an entire bottle of Belvedere missing.
I needed a shot. I took two. This guy was having the time of his life. He was mouthing the words to good songs, swapping dance partners with 2 dorky white people for fun (I'm white, I know), and overall being a good natured club patron. I had just finished eviscerating him for his terrible season last year, and for emptying 2 bottles of champagne on Spin Styles' DJ equipment, and he didn't have the foggiest ****ing clue.
In good human nature, I stood up and continued dancing. I wasn't going to confront the guy whilst he was partying and living the celebrity life on a Friday night about DJ equipment that isn't/wasn't mine, or how he probably shouldn't be out parlaying 36 hours or so before kickoff. I was having fun, and knew that it would be a buzzkill for the entire room. Besides, he pours bottles of champagne onto people's personal property. He'd probably crush my face.
Shaun was still killing it! And I was in a great mood now. In fact, our little vip nook was the livest clique in the entire club. Larry Johnson and friends, my girlfriend and friends, and I were dancing and mouthing the words to all the classics.
All of the sudden I hear an upright bass playing a very familiar line. Oh shit, Shaun just dropped "The Rebirth of Slick" by Digable Planets! Instantly I turn the very awkward, and goofy dancing up several notches and start rapping the words with my hands in the air. At the same time, who else but 27, Larry Johnson does the same thing. We are about a foot away from each other and are both jubilant at the fact that "Rebirth of Slick" is playing. Like I've never heard the song before.
The first chorus chimes in and Larry looks at me. "I'm cool like that." I look back and return the nod, "I'm cool like that." Larry alleyoops, "I'm cool like that." I top it off... "I'm cool."
Fast forward 5 songs and our whole vip area was like an old Viking tribe chanting hymnals and war songs. When "Hip-Hop Hooray" by Naughty By Nature dropped, Larry and I had our hands up doing the wave. When "Blowjob Betty" by Too $hort dropped, Larry and I were laughing and rapping to each other. When "Motown Philly" by Boyz II Men dropped, Larry and I were dancing like it was 1990. Seriously. Dork ass dancing. Singing, "Back in school we used to dream about this everrrry ddaaaaayyy!!!"
Now look. The dude whipped an entire bottle of Belvedere's ass. Maybe it was the company he was with, but even then. That was only 3 other people, and this bottle was a good 3 liters. But I'm not his parent, nor do I pay his salary. And judging by how the Chiefs looked against the Raiders, I don't give a shit. Maybe they should all get drunk DURING the game.
Now look again. The dude poured 2 bottles of champagne all over Spin Styles' equipment. And in this very small window of time that I have no idea what his motive was, I can safely say, "Hey. Innocent until proven guilty." Right? Until I speak with Spin Styles, I cannot be angry at the man. Even though before I knew it was him I was 3 feet away from, I was completely trashing him and his assholeness. Maybe Spin Styles stole $7 million from his wallet or something. That's possible right?
The night unfolded more and more, with dancing and singing, and it was quite fun. Larry ended up putting his sunglasses back on, saying goodbye to us, and leading his friends out of the club. We stayed. Danced. And earned some serious morning headaches.
The moral of the story is:
No you wouldn't (insert what you'd do or say, to such and such celebrity, if only you had the chance.) No. You wouldn't.
I'm such a fanboy.
Go Chiefs. Holler at me Spin Styles.
Mac
http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=2347088&blogID=434582538
I’m such a fanboy.
Last night my lass and I went to the Plaza Art Fair. If you haven't gone yet, please allow me to co-sign on the experience and recommend a trip before the weekend is over. Some of the coolest physically assembled art that I have ever seen in my life is there in the tents, and it's on sale! I could have incinerated a cool $2,000 on metal pig sculptures, and strangely painted porcelain baby-heads, but this hasn't been a smart financial month for me. I am on punishment for certain actions. I did get a $2 cheese burger from the M&S Grille tent, though.
After the fair, we decided it would be a good idea to go clubbing. Ha, it's weird to type the word 'clubbin'' with a proper suffix. Clubbing.
Yes, so last night we decide to go visit our good friend, and favorite (besides Sku) dance DJ extraordinaire Shaun Duvall at a mildly swank, very dimly lit little club type place named Reverse. Reverse is located on the Country Club Plaza, and is a good place to go if you need an excuse to dress like an expensive whore, or purchase an entire bottle of Belvedere Vodka for yourself, but don't want to actually be at a crowded ass Kansas City club (like Mosaic, where Spin Styles DJ's.)
We walk to Reverse. We sneak into Reverse's side door instead of waiting in line. Then we immediately head down the twisted stairs, to the dingy and gloom basement area where Shaun was tautly wrecking the crowd with exclusive remixes of Little Dwayne songs, and infinitely-more-interesting-than-club-rap electronic dance cuts. It was fun. We ordered shots of Patron immediately, because oddly enough, when you aren't being barraged with the same 37 commercial rap songs about Patron, you get in the mood to dance. And when you dance, you need Patron. Shots of Patroooon.
A few shots deep, we decide the dance floor is entirely too crowded for us to be comfortable, so we use our celebrity passes and go to the vip area which was located behind Shaun Duvall. The vip area was the move. Easy to breathe, and very scarcely populated. In fact the only person utilizing the vip area was a well dressed brother with 2 cell phones, who was wearing gold shoes, ridiculously expensive sunglasses, and was treating himself to an entire bottle of chilled Belvedere Vodka while dancing to the classics. Oh, he was with some chick too.
A few more shots deep and I'm ready to socialize! Luckily, a friend of mine approaches me and tells me about a recent melee caused by Chiefs running back Larry Johnson. Apparently on Thursday night at Mosaic (a club I have never attended, located at the White Power District), Larry emptied 2 entire bottles of champagne onto Spin Styles' turntables. I have absolutely no idea why this happened, and I have been an acquaintance of Spin Styles for many, many years now, so I was nearly outraged. Like a gossiping bitch.
"No!"
"That's terrible."
"You can't be ****ing serious, man."
"This dude gets $40 trillion a season, and thinks he can just leisurely pour champagne all over somebody's hard-earned music equipment? **** that! I'm gonna blog about this. I don't care, whoop my ass! It needs to be said."
See I was pissed. Being a $20 million franchised running back probably distorts a few things for someone. You lose your grip on the concept of money, and the idea that if you get champagne spilled all over your DJ equipment, you don't get to just go spend a few thousand dollars on new equipment the next day. There are way more broke musicians than rich ones. I know when you're like Larry Johnson, who at one point (and still may) shared a luxurious New Jersey home with Jay-Z, you get all sorts of turntables and electric guitars to throw food and beverages at for fun after you break a hooker's neck and pay a few grand to have her body disposed of. But we don't have that kind of money... man.
Shaun Duvall was killing it. People were dancing their asses off. I was running my mouth to friends about Larry. Loudly.
"****in' dickhead. That's so rude. He's only had about 150 yards over the last 2 seasons."
Zap. I thought my friend Jason (whom had joined us in the vip section) was joking when he said,
"Um. So. Isn't that Larry Johnson right there with the gold shoes on?"
"Hahaha! That would be hilarious!" I bellowed.
"No man. That's Larry Johnson right there."
Silence. Shivers. Uh, yeah. That was Larry Johnson right there. Dancing. With about 3/4ths of an entire bottle of Belvedere missing.
I needed a shot. I took two. This guy was having the time of his life. He was mouthing the words to good songs, swapping dance partners with 2 dorky white people for fun (I'm white, I know), and overall being a good natured club patron. I had just finished eviscerating him for his terrible season last year, and for emptying 2 bottles of champagne on Spin Styles' DJ equipment, and he didn't have the foggiest ****ing clue.
In good human nature, I stood up and continued dancing. I wasn't going to confront the guy whilst he was partying and living the celebrity life on a Friday night about DJ equipment that isn't/wasn't mine, or how he probably shouldn't be out parlaying 36 hours or so before kickoff. I was having fun, and knew that it would be a buzzkill for the entire room. Besides, he pours bottles of champagne onto people's personal property. He'd probably crush my face.
Shaun was still killing it! And I was in a great mood now. In fact, our little vip nook was the livest clique in the entire club. Larry Johnson and friends, my girlfriend and friends, and I were dancing and mouthing the words to all the classics.
All of the sudden I hear an upright bass playing a very familiar line. Oh shit, Shaun just dropped "The Rebirth of Slick" by Digable Planets! Instantly I turn the very awkward, and goofy dancing up several notches and start rapping the words with my hands in the air. At the same time, who else but 27, Larry Johnson does the same thing. We are about a foot away from each other and are both jubilant at the fact that "Rebirth of Slick" is playing. Like I've never heard the song before.
The first chorus chimes in and Larry looks at me. "I'm cool like that." I look back and return the nod, "I'm cool like that." Larry alleyoops, "I'm cool like that." I top it off... "I'm cool."
Fast forward 5 songs and our whole vip area was like an old Viking tribe chanting hymnals and war songs. When "Hip-Hop Hooray" by Naughty By Nature dropped, Larry and I had our hands up doing the wave. When "Blowjob Betty" by Too $hort dropped, Larry and I were laughing and rapping to each other. When "Motown Philly" by Boyz II Men dropped, Larry and I were dancing like it was 1990. Seriously. Dork ass dancing. Singing, "Back in school we used to dream about this everrrry ddaaaaayyy!!!"
Now look. The dude whipped an entire bottle of Belvedere's ass. Maybe it was the company he was with, but even then. That was only 3 other people, and this bottle was a good 3 liters. But I'm not his parent, nor do I pay his salary. And judging by how the Chiefs looked against the Raiders, I don't give a shit. Maybe they should all get drunk DURING the game.
Now look again. The dude poured 2 bottles of champagne all over Spin Styles' equipment. And in this very small window of time that I have no idea what his motive was, I can safely say, "Hey. Innocent until proven guilty." Right? Until I speak with Spin Styles, I cannot be angry at the man. Even though before I knew it was him I was 3 feet away from, I was completely trashing him and his assholeness. Maybe Spin Styles stole $7 million from his wallet or something. That's possible right?
The night unfolded more and more, with dancing and singing, and it was quite fun. Larry ended up putting his sunglasses back on, saying goodbye to us, and leading his friends out of the club. We stayed. Danced. And earned some serious morning headaches.
The moral of the story is:
No you wouldn't (insert what you'd do or say, to such and such celebrity, if only you had the chance.) No. You wouldn't.
I'm such a fanboy.
Go Chiefs. Holler at me Spin Styles.
Mac