It’s Not a Party Without & MB Recommends

Today I composed an “it’s not a party without ____” list about my Saturday night out. You can view that here. I also thought I’d divulge some stuff that I’ve recently gotten into:

1. Kiehls Foaming Non-Detergent Washable Face Cleanser.

Sick of your dermatologist saying ‘just use Cetaphil blah blah’ doctor talk since it's one of the few products they can defer you to law-suit-risk free? Try this stuff. It’s cheap compared to other high-end facial cleansers and comes in the largest 17 oz bottle for $26.50. It was recommended to me by a skin care expert and I’ve been enjoying the results.

2. Eckhart Tolle.

Ekhart wrote this book “The Power of Now” that people went ga-ga over a few years ago and went completely over my head. Now however, he has this new Opera-approved novel called “A New Earth,” which has nothing to do with the earth but serves rather as a guide to understanding your ego. So the title remains baffling to me and I advise skipping the first chapter (which is whacky and New Age and will drag you down.) Pick up on Chapter 2 and get ready to experience pure genius. This book made me feel less insane every day I read it.

I now wish Eckhart could cancel his busy schedule to just come and live with me as my own personal spiritual advisor. Every time I’m upset, crabby, having trouble purging my negativity, picking out clothing or need help composing a text message, he’d just be there to help me through it. Eckhart? Are you interested?

3. Juice / Water Fasting. I’m determined to try this. Let’s see if I make it through alive.

Fasting provides a period of concentrated physiological rest during which time the body can devote its self-healing mechanisms to repairing and strengthening damaged organs. The process of fasting also allows the body to cleanse cells of accumulated toxins and waste products.

Fasting gives the digestive tract time to completely rest and strengthen its mucosal lining. A healthy intestinal mucosal lining is necessary for preventing the leakage of incompletely digested proteins into the bloodstream, thereby offering protection from autoimmune conditions. A healthy digestive tract also helps to protect the blood and inner organs against a variety of environmental and metabolic toxins.

Gross, but I buy it.

4. Ne-Yo: I forgot how oddly soothing elevator music by rappers can be. His over-the-top cheesy dance moves are absolutely worth checking out.

Marry Him, DUH!

I realize the initial hype about this 'Marry Him!' article has passed, but I’m still not over it so here we go.

Just in case you’re not suicidal enough, Lori Gottlieb is here to remind you that your ovaries are drying up and that asshole-loser you’re dating now is the guy you should just suck up and marry because hey, all men go bald and become embittered anyway. Apparently, romance and marriage have absolutely nothing to do with one another. An excerpt:

What I didn’t realize when I decided, in my 30s, to break up with boyfriends I might otherwise have ended up marrying, is that while settling seems like an enormous act of resignation when you’re looking at it from the vantage point of a single person, once you take the plunge and do it, you’ll probably be relatively content. It sounds obvious now, but I didn’t fully appreciate back then that what makes for a good marriage isn’t necessarily what makes for a good romantic relationship. Once you’re married, it’s not about whom you want to go on vacation with; it’s about whom you want to run a household with. Marriage isn’t a passion-fest; it’s more like a partnership formed to run a very small, mundane, and often boring nonprofit business. And I mean this in a good way.

All this advice from someone who's actually never been married. And jeez, “relatively content.” That’s what we’re aiming for? Don't forget that over 50% of those “relatively content” people will end up divorced. The scariest thing about this article (which Gottlieb’s gotten a lot of heat for) is that she actually makes many good points. Then again, she’s speaking from the vantage point of someone who said, “I’m getting too old to procreate, let’s have a baby now via sperm donor and look for the man of my dreams later!” which while admirable in it’s courageous naïveté, is a life choice only someone who’s been severely beaten with a stupid stick would take.

On what planet does raising a child fatherless with no financial support and no emotional support sound like a good idea? Is settling a better option? Hell yes, because as she points out, at least you have someone with a second income who’ll also take out the trash.

So if your on your very last egg and determined to make babies, settling’s probably the better choice than going at it on your own. Duh. Isn’t that actually a no-brainer? Isn’t that what most women who marry at 29 are doing anyway? How about someone pump out an article on how to avoid this situation all together, because as my quotable friend the Argentine once said:

“It’s one thing to meet the man of your life. It’s another thing to know he’s the one.”

Ponder that.

Lori Gottlieb’s full article here.

Thank You, WikiHow

Last post on the topic of feminity, I swear. Some of the gems in here were too good to pass up. Let WikiHow teach you, and observe my commentary interspersed in pink.

How to be Feminine:

STEPS

1. Take care of your hair and make sure it smells good. It's okay if your hair is slightly frizzy or imperfect, as long as it is not stringy and/or greasy. Also, try to keep your hair out of your face.

2. Wear only as much makeup as you need. Always have powder handy wherever you go. Wow, I actually do this already! Keep make-up minimal. You decide how much, but too much isn't very attractive. Many may view you as insecure and in reality not very beautiful if you wear too much to cover up. Good point! If you use more then 10 minutes in front of the mirror, you should think about toning it down. Just 10 minutes? Is that a joke? Is that for just make up application or for make up application and outfit coordination? Because anything less than twenty minutes for clothing determination is whack!

3. Wear neat but conservative clothes. Really short skirts come across as slutty, not feminine. Slutty. Feminine. Are different. Check.

4. Don't be loud and obnoxious. This is a male trait and people believe you to be more masculine than you actually are. Must practice talking daintily. Is it feminine to glare at people who are being loud? Or to give them a bitchy raised eyebrow? Probably not.

5. Don't fish for compliments. Fishing is also a male trait. Like…with galoshes in lakes?...wait, I’m confused. Remember, you are a woman. I often wake up and ask my roommate, ‘wait, what gender am I again?’ Be confident even if you aren't completely happy with yourself. That's called alcohol.

6. Be happy with yourself. Accept your body for what it is and others will love you. Sweet.

7. Remove unattractive body hair. Wax your upper lip if necessary and tweeze your eyebrows. Shave your legs (all of them) all three of them?, arms, and back (if it needs it) If you need to shave your back maybe you need to double check if you’re a woman. Hair is disgusting.

8. Be confident and happy. Nothing is more beautiful than a smiling woman. Just keep your lips together, if you don't like your teeth. God bless orthodontia.

9. Try not to use profanities. We all do it, but if you could make a sailor blush with your mouth and not your looks, you should think about toning it down. This is actually pretty valid. I’ve had guys express displeasure when I swear excessively.

10. Be aware of your posture. Chin up high, back straight and thoughts positive.

11. Be smart. Easier said then done. Most people like smart women who are able to have a discussion about something. Really!?!? Don't make yourself dumb. But also don't be a know-it-all. Accept if a man is right, especially if you like him.

TIPS

Follow these steps, but don't try to be someone you're not! Unless you are hairy, in which case you should probably change a little. Laughing. So. Hard.

If you have talents such as ballet, cheerleading, cooking rice, etc., try and make it known without bragging. Cooking rice?

Shower daily, wash your face twice a day, brush and floss your teeth twice a day, and use deodorant! Really? I have to floss to get my femininity degree?

Be organized and neat with your things. This is a feminine trait (have you noticed that all men are sloppy?) Having a pigsty of a dorm/apartment/house has never been girly. Even if it’s thongs and lingerie that’s messily spread everywhere?

Confidence isn't about using a bold tone of voice or always appearing happy and solid. To be genuine, confidence must be about knowing yourself really well and being brave enough to be yourself in public without being pushy, defensive, or embarrassed. It takes a long time. But stick in there, girlfriend. Thanks! Girlfriend.

Another important point is that you should love yourself, just the way you are. That’s what therapy is for.

I take back that last point. Be the change you want to see in your life. Thanks WikiHow! You're empowering!

Shut Up and Be Feminine Part II

One of my favorite readers commented on yesterday’s post about the endlessly fascinating topic of male-female relations stating:

“Jesus - can there not just be one rule book to go by?! It's all so frikkin' confusing!”

I agree faithful reader! We have to juggle the ‘play hard to get’ theories the ‘never even play games’ theories and now these whacked ‘femininity’ strategies. Implicating all of them will make us schizophrenics in heels, and forget the overly simplified and unhelpful ‘just be yourself’ theory cuz that’s just silly. It’s a lifelong journey that involves a lot of dark chocolate and tissues to figure out who you are, and if you even want to share that crazy trainwreck with another person. So I wanted to at least try to give my audience of intelligent, witty women and the men who are fascinated by them a comprehensive stance on the enigma that is the male brain (a superhuman task, I know.)

So I solicited the services of a Don Juan Argentine friend of mine, who even has experience writing books for women about men (sadly they’re in Portuguese and my ability to say “cheers,” “give me an orgasm” and “that man stole my purse,” isn’t enough vocab to get me through the first chapter.) So I had him read through my scintillating conversation with Rio and he was kind enough to offer this response:

In response to your article “Shut Up & Be Feminine:”

Buddha said "that the key to happiness is equilibrium or balance between 2 opposing elements"...

Now with that said, women and men are no exception:

What women must remember is:

That men need their "reason" for living... Reason is the oxygen of a relationship as far as men are concerned.

The problem with excessively independent, strong, feminist women is that they rob their man of their "reason" and consequently, their mission in nature.

If you take a man's reason by being too independent, he will feel useless, like a walking vibrator, a seamen storage and/or ATM... A woman needing a man to squash a roach, change the car's oil, or program the VCR is what makes a man feel like "A Man"... not necessarily "The Man".... This has nothing to do with ego polishing. It's more about complementing each other.

Also, what women rarely understand is that if you want to get your way with your man don't rob him of his reason by telling him he’s wrong. Don’t antagonize him by arguing over little things. The best way to keep a man happy is say "ok" to everything and then do what you want afterwards. If you ever need to correct your man then do it in a subtle way, saying things like "Don't you think it might be better that way?" or "I would love it if we would do this and that, instead of the other"... Remember, in life it's not what you say, but how you say it! Also if you need to correct him, don't ever do it in front of other people! Especially in front of his friends, co-workers and of course his mother!!! In other words, draw him a picture but let him connect the dots! So you can get your way without robbing him of his "reason."

Bottom line is that men and women were designed by nature to co-depend on each other... And when you go against nature, you lose, and massive masturbation results as such.... If God/Nature wanted us to be completely independent, then he would have left us as self-replicating asexual amoebas floating in the proverbial soup!

Last thought: Let your man do the little things that you know you could easily do so he can feel worthy of being YOUR man and can continue to love and cherish you instead of going after the other feminine lap doggy girl next door: Always seeking a balance between complete independence and utter neediness.

Awesome. So I don’t have to revert to silence and stupid pills just yet. This whole ‘balance’ idea, I think I like it. And you know what’s unbalanced? That while we obsess, men spend one twenty-fifth the amount of time theorizing about us and ladies are probably twenty-five times more complicated. Someone solve that math problem for next time.

I Hate Cupid

Not so long ago, I wrote about New Year's as a holiday that provokes relationship angst and triggers nasty inebriated break-ups. If you and your significant other actually managed to blissfully unite under a disco ball and welcome in 2008 with joy, you’re about to be put through an even more arduous test – the Hallmark invented bull crazy that is Valentine's Day.

If you and your partner are open, stable, honest, in love and not looking for ‘the next best thing’ you’ll probably get through the holiday just fine. I know very few New York relationships that could be categorized under all these terms. In many ways, Manhattan’s an island of relationship losers. We know what we want (it’s just different Monday through Friday), we know how we feel (for the few hours after expensive weekly psychotherapy), and we believe in romance (when we’re not being spit on by people in the subway). Many New Yorkers prefer to indulge in what I like to call ‘grey relationships.’ Love stories that are exciting, non-committal, endlessly confusing, and allow us to be closet workaholics. Everything’s going along swimmingly until a calendar imposed nut-fest like Valentine's Day forces you to snap out of the dysfunctional grayness you’ve been passively enjoying and dares you to define your relationship.

Definition very often equals death.

Let’s embark on a memory road trip to Valentine's Day three years ago, a holiday that assassinated my extremely pleasurable grey relationship at the time. I’d been for the most part exclusively dating the object of my affection for eight or nine months. I’d been subtly pushing for weeks for us to take things to the next level (meeting parents, going on trips, engaging in activities together other than just eating, drinking, watching HBO, and sex) and decided to use Valentine's Day as a test for him to prove he cared about me on a level beyond buying me beer and letting me keep stuff at his place.

My not-so-subtle hinting that he better do something nice for me for Valentine's Day (or else) actually worked. He put down the cable remote control, did laundry, pulled himself together and made reservations at the nicest restaurant we’d ever been to. We actually connected over the meal. The night from start to finish went great. You’d think some sort of victory dance and ‘happily ever after’ scrawled across us in cursive would have ensued, but no. Us connecting and spending the holiday together sacred this guy shitless. It was too much, too fast. He disappeared, I stalked him, we exchanged stuff, and never spoke again.

Thanks, V Day.

Granted, we wanted different things from one another. Granted, I was being an immature crazy manipulator. Granted, he sucked. But our enjoyable, stress-free arrangement could have continued for many more months undisturbed had Valentine's Day not forced us into defining exactly what we meant to each other – a stage, come to find out, neither of us was ready for.

Maybe I should look at V Day as my friend. Something that helps you define, dump, and move out of the dysfunctional realm onto something bigger and better, but the commercialism, pinkness, teddy bears and Duane Reade mega assortment of Sweet Tarts and cheap candy makes it impossible for me to do that.

My advice to any men in the grey area who aren’t sure what to do is to send flowers. I don’t think flowers force anyone to define anything, and flowers have NEVER made a romantic situation worse. They’re the one gift that can’t hurt, they can only help. Hell, if I had this powerful a placation tool I could send to the guys I’m dating, I’d have it in my calendar on autopilot.

Thursday’s D Day. So who has plans?

Unofficial Kiss & Fly First Impressions

No, I have not yet been inside Kiss & Fly. My body’s fighting it. Maybe because of the trauma I witnessed on their Wednesday opening night.

Wednesday was supposed to be a soft opening for press. From what I could tell, there was nothing soft about it. The establishment seemed wildly overwhelmed in every sense of the word, even early on in the evening.

Curios, I walked by the place opening night at 12:15 A.M. knowing there’d be little chance of getting in. I was right. What I didn’t predict however, is how utterly disorganized the door would be.

First, we had our typical door people with Bluetooth headsets whispering amongst themselves like troubled middle school girls, ignoring all the desperate partygoers around them. They seemed frantic. We had bouncers screaming for everyone “to clear the sidewalk,” but instead of just vocalizing their instructions, they physically pushed people too. Classy. Nothing however, beats the fact that at 12:20 P.M. all the doormen disappeared inside, never to be seen again. That’s right. We had an EMPTY boxed in red velvet square outside the club. I’ve never seen this before in my life. And it wasn’t just empty for five minutes while the frazzled doormen ran about inside or chugged tequila shots at the bar. It was empty for a solid twenty minutes until at 12:38 P.M. someone came out and announced that they were “closing the door for an hour, absolutely no one was getting in.”

Then the out front was empty again.

Really?

Shame on us for getting to a hyped club opening past 12:15 A.M. I knew we wouldn’t get in. But shame on Kiss & Fly for not establishing some entry pacing so that they didn’t have to shut down their door at 12:30 – an hour at which most going-outers are just arriving at their destination. Too packed and having to shut down the door at 1:30 A.M. makes sense on an opening night. At 12:30, I think it just shows serious disorganization.

On the sidewalk with me, a noteworthy promoter and his entourage who (like everyone) had been denied entry explained:

“They were begging me to work here, so I said I’d come by and check out how they were at the opening. Guess all my questions are answered.”

He and his friends piled back into their black jeep and wisely sped away from the madness. I used my time out front to interview the people who were leaving, many of whom were promoters or nightlife aficionados.

“How was it inside?” I asked one of my departing friends.

“Like this.” He proceeded to dry hump me. “It’s so crowded in there you can’t even move. I accidentally touched over five women in places you should never touch women. They would’ve smacked me but no one had enough room to raise an arm.”

Other reviews were:

“Lots and lots of bottle service. Tons of tables in little nooks with elevated areas.”

“I heard they decorated a ton, but it still feels like Aer.”

And…

“It’s the next Pink Elephant, but will probably die out in the spring. Its location will kill it. No one wants to go out in meatpacking.”

Of those who did make it inside earlier in the night, the doorman split up groups saying:

“Women only. Only the girls are getting in, thanks.”

I don’t like this. People go out with a group of friends and want to stay together. Any classy establishment should try to accommodate. Men have to pay. Fine. Men have to get bottle service. Okay. But men with girls are denied entry all together: Not cool. That’s a club just acting way too prima donna for my taste, although I’m sure they’ll start to lax up when they’ve recovered from their four night opening delirium.

I haven’t yet been inside – so I've made no official judgments yet. I was supposed to go Saturday, but a voice in my head warned me against it. Most people have been instructing me to avoid Kiss & Fly for the time being deeming it ‘too crazy.’

For the sake of the club’s reputation, let’s hope they hire more door people.

Christmas Wishes and Non-Existent Karaoke

I call Christmas Stress-mus. And my Holiday wish it that would cause us angst every other year instead of every eleven months.

Wouldn’t that be great?

If Christmas came every other year it might help the season actually feel ‘authentic’ and ‘special.’ The idea of gift shopping might evoke emotions of love and charity instead of nauseating visions of shoppers sword fighting each other at Macy’s and even worse –
trying to find parking at the mall. I realize some people like the inevitable strain, travel, traffic, fake cheer, financial exploitation and family time that comes with Christmas, but I’d even vote for celebrating it every four years. Like the Olympics! Then I’d get really excited about it!

It’s my belief the hullabaloo that comes with the holidays is just too much for us frail human beings to handle every single year. I think medical authorities would back me up on this. Don’t we deserve a break? If Christmas came less often, heart attacks and other stress related illnesses might go down over twenty percent! Who needs Christmas every year?

My life’s frankly quite fulfilling without spending hours locked in my family’s basement like an Indonesian child laborer wrapping a stack of presents higher than the fire’s mantelpiece. My life’s fulfilling without pretending to enjoy decorating a perfectly good fur tree that belongs in a forest with chirping birds and sun. Ultimately, it’s the shopping and commercialization of Christmas that gets to me – not any of the Holiday’s underlying values. And then we get to the worst part of all…Pink Elephant’s attempt at December decoration:




Is this really necessary?

Even a miserly, non-charitable establishment like Pink Elephant had to get on the Holiday bandwagon?

Is there no sanctuary?

Karaoke

On Wednesday, I hustled myself into the cold, intent on reporting what was to be the SoHo club’s Upstairs’ first Karaoke night. Sound like a carbon copy of Giuseppe’s ingenious idea to turn Sunday nights into a festival of alcoholism and embarrassment at Cipriani’s Upstairs?

It is.

Those you who’ve watched my video footage / soundtrack of Cipriani’s on karaoke night can understand why I kept my iPod buds handy while climbing the staircase to Upstairs – karaoke in New York clubs is like audible shit. If you’re eardrums aren’t completely desensitized from drunkenness hearing it may make you shriek. Yet as I entered the club, I saw a DJ, heard normal music, and saw no one slobbering over a mike. The karaoke screen hung at the very far end of the bar, stark white and barely visible.

Apparently, Upstairs had experienced “technical difficulties.” Karaoke was nixed and it was a night like any other. I let out an audible gasp of relief.

Sure I’d been lured out of my house on a Wednesday night under false pretenses. But Cipriani’s is bad enough. The last thing this city needs if for the clubbing karaoke idea to spread like Christmas decorations.

Oh! And are you short on Christmas gift ideas? How about getting your favorite douche or douchette this delightful Pink Elephant snow cap?

New Years Advice & SoHo Nuisances

Spending New Years in New York? Want to party?

(Which I don’t suggest.)

This comprehensive website outlines every single New York club / bar hosting overpriced New Years festivities and allows you to purchase tickets (all in the $100 and up range) for entry, an open bar, and the privilege of being allowed to watch the ball drop in their establishment.

Frightening: This website also has a New Years countdown clock. Like right now it’s 26 days, 12 hours, 44 minutes and 30 seconds till January 1.

Grrraaar! Who cares!?!!?!?!?

Now while $120 may seem reasonable for a 4-hour open bar, don’t be fooled. These people are selling tickets to capacity. Even if you make it into the club without being trampled, your chances of body surfing toward the bar and then actually succeeding in getting a bar tender’s attention are about as likely as Pink Elephant miraculously going bankrupt. It ain’t going to happen. You’re essentially paying to rub up against people…and if that’s your thing, go for it.

In selecting a New York New Years locale, I also highly suggest choosing something within walking distance of where you plan on passing out that night. It’s more likely you’ll stumble across a leprechaun with a pot of gold than a free taxi. And even if you see a free cab, you’ll most likely have to club your fellow Manhatteners to get it. So put a crowbar in your purse.

Now that we’ve covered that horrific topic, onto more bad news…

MANGO one of my favorite European semi-affordable designers has taken up residence on Broadway near Prince Street in SoHo. Now I know what you’re all thinking:

“Model Behavior, shouldn’t you be happy one of your favorite clothing stores is now available walking distance from where you live?”

Me: “NO!”

Perhaps 60% of the chicer part of my wardrobe is Mango, and until now it looked incredibly coveted and unique.

“Amazing top,” some girl would say, “Where can I get it?”

“You can’t,” I’d reply. “It’s Ming by Mango. Only in Europe.”

She’d be crestfallen and I’d get style points, which I need. Despite a background in the world of fashion I have very little natural fashion sense. Am I a bit evil? Perhaps. But Mango was my special thing, and now that they have a Zara-like department store on Broadway.

Nothing’s sacred.

In addition, word’s out that Penelope Cruz is designing for them. I saw her on a Mango billboard and was like, “Yikes, she’s getting old. Good thing she’s pulling in these last minute endorsement deals.”

Now I find out she’s also designing the clothes! Shouldn’t that be left to the professionals? Why aren’t actor-models ever content just being actor-models? Why do they always have to sing, make a fragrance or start a handbag line?

I worry, because the last time I saw Penelope Cruz in Union Square she looked like she’d gotten dressed in a dumpster. And I don’t really buy the whole “woe is me the superstar, I’m trying to blend in excuse,” because she’d have had more success blending in wearing jeans and a sweater rather than the black, wool, seemingly lice-infested mui mui she’d awkwardly wrapped around her frail body: an outfit so horrific I noticed it before I noticed her.

This is the person who’s now designing for my once-favorite, once-Euro, now Americanized clothing store. None of that’s going to be on my Christmas list.

I previously mentioned, I’m not a fashion expert. I just have the good sense to blatantly copy whatever my fashion savvy roommate Tatas is wearing – the dress story being a prime example. So having renounced any claim at expertise, I’ve just gotta say: Would any woman in her right mind wear this?

And it’s been in a SoHo boutique’s front display for WEEKS. I learned at Pink’s space party that silver, pleather-like fabric is unflattering no matter how thin you are. The dresses’ unusual collar / necklace looks like part of an android suit. Can they just ship this thing off to a Star Wars convention already so I don’t have to scrunch my face up at it bi-daily as part of my morning and evening walk?

True Love

Boyfriend, lover, pet or best friend letting you down?

Not to worry, as all these emotional relationships can be successfully replaced by the shiny delightfulness that is an Apple iPhone.

I used to make fun of people who had iPhone’s for sport. Especially when they first came out and people paid $600 plus to be among the first elite owners of Steve Jobs’ latest technological love child. I taunted these folk…whether out of hate or envy, I don’t know.

As a Mac user, my interest eventually rose to a level beyond torment. I proceeded to play with the iPhone when out with friends who owned one, usually at dinner parties, and usually inebriated. My manicure would prevent me from properly tapping on the virgin-level sensitive keyboard and I’d end up spelling things like:
Odsyagh iz szdgh

And I’d think: $600 plus for this? Morons!

Well, I’m prepared to fess up that last week I became the ashamed owner of an iPhone. My demise was that I got my hands on one sober, on a bus trip in New Jersey no less (don’t ask) and managed to reply to several emails and comment on three blogs during the trip with minimal typing difficulty. Somewhere between New Orange and Newark, I fell in love.

Passionately.

I’m the type of person who visits a $100 dress in a boutique three times before purchasing it. I’m the opposite of an impulsive shopper. In fact, I’m so cheap it sometimes scares people. Yet that very day, I found myself at the Cingular store on 23rd street pondering what credit card to put my $200 less than its release price, but still unaffordable, iPhone on.

My mental justifications: (Feel free to use them on yourself)

1. I own a three-year-old iPod mini that needs to be replaced soon anyway

2. I’m a Mac user

3. Yes, the next generation will be better, but that excuse goes on to infinity…technology just changes too fast

4. I can do more blog reading / commenting, especially in those awkward twenty minutes when I’m stuck in a car or alone at a table being stood up on a dinner date

5. I can answer all my email while on-the-go. So when I return to my desk and need to start writing, I don’t have to lose an hour of creative time answering emails from my dad and deleting spams about penis enlargement

Point number five turned out to be the kicker.

I’m a master at manipulating myself.

But this justification actually worked in real life:

EXAMPLE:

When I was at Pink’s Wilhelmina party and bored before the man-meat arrived, I sat on a banquet and answered FIVE work emails.

Productivity IN Pink Eleplant!?!?!?!?

I thought the ether might split and angels glide down onto the disco ball to honor me.

Who knew you could get work done at Pink?


After usuing the iPhone for two days, there were some features lacking I wished it had.

Well guess what?

I actually watched the informational instruction video Apple emailed me, and all those features existed, I just hadn’t yet learned how to use them! Like the iPhone headphones have a built-in mike, so if you’re listening to your iPod and someone calls you, your music fades (fades, not drops) out and you take the call without having to pick up the phone or take your ear buds out. And you can play, pause, and switch between songs by just squeezing the ear phone’s white string in different beats. The predictive text is amazing, and capitalizes everything I need.

My iPhone’s so smart it tickles me. And when it automatically zooms in when I'm filling out online forms or plays my favorite song, I realize it understands me better than any human in the world.

True love doesn't equal flawlessness. Yes, the Internet is sometimes slower than ideal, but that’s to be expected: It’s not 2015 yet. And yes the battery isn’t as strong as it should be, but this is Apple: all their batteries suck. What do you expect?

So my initial review: Four Model Behavior stars.

The Best Clubs in Every City in the World

Yes, the title says it all. I figured since many of us may be traveling for the upcoming winter holidays, it was time to unveil my dirty secret project: A comprehensive list of all the best nightclubs in every city in the world, expertly compiled by the jetsetters who frequent them.

Some things to keep in mind:

1. The definition of ‘best.’ For the purposes of this list ‘best clubs’ are defined (but not limited to) clubs that
a. Radiate with obnoxious exclusivity
b. Are most likely challenging to get into without ‘connections’ (* indicates members only clubs)
c. Are non-sensically expensive
d. Are home to celebrity sightings and
e. Host famous DJs

So if you’re looking for a low-key, hassle free bar to enjoy a beer near cost price, this list is not for you.

2. What’s ‘hot’ changes in every city every month (or every week, in the case of New York). This guide, while ‘in’ right now, will eventually be outdated. So take these suggestions with a grain of salt.

WARNING: You might have ridiculous amounts of fun. You might get ripped off. Remember, clubbing is addictive.

So here we go…buckle up and put your party shoes on:

Aix-en-Provence
- Le Mistral

Amsterdam
- Jimmy Woo
- Club 11
- Rain
- Zebra Lounge
- Mansion

Antibes
- Pulp
- Les Pecheurs

Antwerp
- Noxx
- Nanno
- Industria
- Fever
- Carré
- Café d'Anvers
- Red and Blue

Athens
- Villa Mercedes
- Rock n' Roll (winter)
- Island (summer)

Bangkok
- The Bed Supper Club
- The Tunnel
- Spasso

Barcelona
- La Terrasa
- Sutton
- Danzatoria
- Catwalk
- Duvet
- Buddha Bar
- Razzmatazz
- Shoko
- Carpe Diem Lounge (CDLC)

Basel
- Bar Rouge

Beijing
- Suzie Wong
- Bed Bar
- Lan Club

Beirut
- Sky Bar
- Crystal
- White
- Element
- BO18

Belgrade
- Magacin

Berlin
- Felix
- Spindler & Klatt

Bilbao
- Image
- Fever

Bodrum
- Ship Ahoi
- Bianca
- Halikarnas

Bogota (Columbia)
- Andres Carne de Res
- Cha Cha

Bologna (Italy)
- Matis
- Kasamatta
- NU Lounge
- Capannina

Bombay
- China House
- Prive
- Posion

Boston
- Rumor-Venue
- 28 Degrees

Brussels
- Le you
- Jeux d'Hiver
- La Patinoire
- Parc Savoy
- Espace 53
- Gallery Louise

Buenos Aires
- Espereanto
- Pacha
- CroBar
- Asia de Cuba
- Creamfields
- Operabay


Bucharest (Romania)
- Embryo
- Fratelli
- Krystal

Budapest
- Club 7
- Negro,
- Oscar´s
- Piaf
- Bed
- Dokk Club
- Studio
- Moulin Rouge
- Romkert
- Cafe del Rio
- Sensation

Cannes
- Le palais
- Le Baoli

Cape Town
- Chrome

Caracas
- Loft

Casablanca
- G Sound

Cairo
- Club 35
- Buddha Bar

Chicago
- Manor

Cologne
- Ivory

Copenhagen
- NASA
- No8
- Slik

Corsica
- Via Notte

Cuzco (Peru)
- Fallen Angels
- Mama Africa

Delhi
- MoS

Damascus (Syria)
- Z Bar
- Marmar

Dubai
- Club 400
- Trilogy
- Shocho
- Chi at The Loudge
- Peppermint

Düsseldorf
- POSH (at Breidenbacher Hof)
- Sams
- 3001
- Nero

Florence
- Central Park

Fortaleza
- Pirata

Frankfurt
- King Kamehameha
- Cocoon

Geneva
- la SIP
- Le Java
- Platinum
- B Club
- Bypass

Gstaad
- GreenGo
- Chloesterli

Hamburg
- Golden Cut

Hammamet
- Calypso
- Oasis

Hamptons
- Pink Elephant

Hasselt
- Versuz

Heidelberg
- Print Media Lounge
- Deep
- Tangente

Hong Kong
- Volar
- Dragon I
- Drop

Ibiza
- Pacha
- SPACE
- Amnesia

Ilha Bela (Brazil)
- DPNY

Istanbul
- Ulus29
- Anjelique
- Reina
- Supper Club
- Blackk
- Wanna

Kitzbühl
- Take Five

Lanzarote
- Room

La Paz (Bolivia)
- La Gitana
- El Mongo's

Las Vegas
- Tryst
- Tao
- Pure

Lausanne
- Red Club
- Zapoff
- D!
- Le Mad

Lisbon
- Lux
- Kapital
- Jezebel
- Garage
- Tamariz
- BBC

London
- Maddox
- Movida
- Crystal
- Tramp*
- Annabels*
- Bougie
- Cuckoo
- Amika
- Boujis

Los Angeles
- Les Duex
- Area
- Winstons
- Opera
- Hyde
- Teddy’s
- Giant

Luxembourg
- VIP Room
- Le Marx

Lyon
- Aperiklub
- aKGB
- Baroc
- First
- VIP Room

Madrid
- Pacha Cielo
- Archy’s
- Gabanna
- Liberata
- Fabrik
- Buddha del Mar
- Fortuny
- El Perro de la Parte de Atras del Coche

Mallorca
- Kinka

Marbella
- Olivia Valere
- Billionaire
- Dreamers
- Nikki Beach

Marrakesh
- El Amounia
- Plage Rouge
- Pacha
- Nikki Beach

Miami
- Mynt
- Mokai
- Suite
- Fifth
- Mansion
- Karu Y

Milan
- Armani Privè
- Just Cavalli
- Killer
- Plastic
- Gold
- Nephenta

Milano Marittima
- Pineta

Monte Carlo
- JimmyZ
- Caremont

Montreal
- Time Supper Club

Moscow
- Diagilev

Munich
- Baby
- 8 Season´s
- Nigthclub of Bayerischer Hof
- Erste Liga

Mykonos
- El Pecado
- Space
- Cavo Paradise

Naples
- La Mela

New York
- Cain (party coverage)
- Le Seuk
- Gold Bar (my review)
- Pink Elephant (stories 1, 2, 3)
- The Box (my review)
- Cipriani (my review...video footage)

Oslo
-Cosmo
-Barbeint
-Golden room

Paris
- Show Case
- Neo
- Le Sens
- Le Neo
- Kong
- Palais M
- Maison Blanche
- Le Baron
- Mix
- Le Mathis
- Le Cabaret
- Le Queen
- Chez Regines

Porto Cervo (Sardinia)
- Billionaire
- Sotto Vento

Prague
- Radost Fx
- Mecca Club
- Duplex

Punta Del Este
- Tequila

Rabat (Morocco)
- Tapis Rouge

Riccione (Italy)
- Byblos

Rimini
- Paradiso

Rino
- NoMI Lounge

Rio de Janeiro
- Baronetti
- Nuuth Lounge
- 00 (zero, zero)
- Melt
-Londra

Rome
- La Maison
- Art Café
- R'home
- Ristrò
- La Suite
- La Maison
- La Cabala
- Espazio 900

Rotterdam
- Offcorso
- Vie
- Cinema

Sao Paulo
- Cafe de La Musique
- Lotus
- Pacha
- Disco Club
- Museum
- Royal
- Alucci Alucci
- Di Bistro Lounge
- Love Story

Singapore
- Attica
- Velvet

Shanghai
- Barbarossa
- Attica
- Bar Rouge
- M on the Bund
- 3 on the Bund
- Mao
- Glamour

St Moritz
- Dracula
- King's
- Privé

Stockholm
- Cafe Opera
- V
- White Room
- Spy Bar
- Sturecompagniet
- F12
- Solidarietet

St. Tropez
- Les Caves de Roi
- Le VIP

Taipei
- Carnegie’s

Tallin
- Bonbon

Toronto
- The Drake Hotel
- The Social

Vicenza
- Victory

Vienna
- Die Passage
- Red Room
- Take Five
- Phoenix Supper Club

Warsaw
- Foksal 19
- Cinnamon
- Opera
- Utopia

Washington, DC
- 18th Street Lounge
- Lima
- K Street Lounge

Zurich
- Q Club
- Supermarket
- Kaufleuten Diagonal
- Carlton Bar
- St. Germain
- Indochine

Disagree? Don't see your city up there? Feel free to add your two cents and add on!

The Best Sex of His Life

Yes, I realize this sounds like one of those douchey Cosmopolitan headlines. FYI, I hate those girl magazines. Who needs the folks at Redbook to teach us how to NOT have an orgasm again? Instead, I’m writing to commemorate an especially interesting conversation that took place over a recent night of sushi and way too much sake, a night in which our dinner party girls ganged up our dinner party guys and started asking some I’ve-drunk-way-too-much-to-censor-myself questions. Since we were all ‘just friends,’ no one felt the need to hold back. Here I’ve docume