Still Roasting's Greatest Night EVER
I went to a party for 'Sup Magazine last night. TV On The Radio played.
She stumbled to the stage just after the first song started. She stood in front of the singer, holding her hand up as if to say "Hi," in a personal joke type of way. She soon went on to the guitar player, she didn't so much walk in front as stomped. She led her small "Jewish Friend," around. He seemed ignorant of her intentions. Between songs she requested something, pleading about "...just two minutes..." "You suck, and everybody is just pretending they like you. Let's open it up with some poetry."
(Here, I must insert my disdain for poetry, in fact, the word alone makes me shudder.)
She was edged away from the band, where she seated herself in a corner, staring at the ceiling. Universal Donor, heroically led her outside for some air, rescuing her from the now angry mob of oddly dressed hipsters.
Outside, she incoherently babbled about union leaders in nursing. Accusing her "Jewish Friend" of needing a jacket.
"......But it's not my jacket, and it's much too warm."
Later back in her corner, (which I should point out now, was a corner created by an amplifier and speaker,) she and her "Jewish Friend," became ammorous. As she pulled up her skirt and straddled him, the previous protestations of not knowing her forgotton, at least by him. Much to the ammusement of all around, as he slid his hands between her legs, he managed to hold his beer.
Later outside, as she lay on the sidewalk, we asked to take their picture, they posed and offered e-mail addresses for the exchange of the images.
She said her name was "Omaha, nuh-uh..."
"Omaha, what?... Nebraska?"
"Naaah, L'il Miss Omaha, fuck Nebraska, fuck e-mail, fuck all that shit."
she announced that he was the greatest kisser in New York.
Apparently so.
Posted 2:41 PM by J.Ro