August 10, 2012
Yo DJ Pump This Party

Just a sidenote:

I’m so sick of DJs pumping weird-ass french shit or trap muzik when I just want to dance.  I don’t frequent clubs, but when I do I want to fucking shake my ass and get up on couches and act like I’m still as young as I look. (Eat me.)

I know these DJs are trying to be current, but there’s a time and a place.  Last night, I was at an “up-and-coming” club - a club that my besty Le Sam refers to as “ugh…that place.  Gross!” -  and the DJ was spinning early 2000s hits.  Ya know what?  It was trashy.  Ya know what else?  I couldn’t stop dancing.  Neither could the yuppy bitches at the table across from mine who had ugly finance boyfriends in blue-shirt-khakis who had paid to be there, and who kept buying bottles upon bottles for these early twenties blondies who will end up in book groups in Cape Cod. 

Know your audience.  You wanna sell bottles?  Spin classics.  

June 3, 2012
Veselka in the East Village

As a resident of the East Village for nearly a decade (save for a brief spell on Water Street in the crusty Financial District while at NYU) I frequent a Ukrainian House of Deliciousness on 9th Street and 2nd Avenue called Veselka.

You’ve got to know about Veselka if you consider yourself any kind of decent New Yorker.  Even if you’ve never been to Veselka, you’ve probably noticed it because it is so brightly lit, and packed at the strangest times, and open 24 hours a day / 7 days a week.  

It isn’t a traditional 24/7 diner.  It specializes in Ukranian food and most people I know go for the Borscht and Pierogi.  If you don’t know what a pierogi is, smack yourself hard across the face while naked and standing in front of your computer camera while on Chatroullette, then get dressed and wikipedia that shit you dumbdumb.  

It’s only a fucking dumpling of heaven that’s traditionally served with onions, butter, and sour cream.  

By the way, I’m part Ukranian and I think that’s what makes me so damn attractive and body-hairless.  If I didn’t have any Ukranian in me, I think I’d be a much hairier and chubbier Italian girl.  Thank you, Nanny-in-Heaven.

Any who, Veselka is also thought of by some (some being me) as the perfect destination for practicing your mean Ninja Moves.

What’s a Ninja Move?  Clothes off, Hand ready, Chatroullette on!  Okay!  Now I’ll explain:

Sometimes, Nightlifers make mistakes.  Oft, these mistakes are prompted by too many glasses of that sweet, sweet nectar.  Mmm.  All of the sudden, a pretty young Nightlifer might find herself in a taxi zooming eastward to her abode for suspicious naked activity with stranger or coworker or unemployed cougysnack.  Perhaps Nightlifer doesn’t like this new friend in that way, or perhaps Nightlifer has to be up at 6 am and really cannot have a friend over.  Fear not:  there’s a way out that doesn’t involve any awkward banter!  

Steps for pulling a Nightlifer Ninja Move:

1.  Ask your new friend to bring you to Veselka because you are so hungry that you are about to pass out.

2.  Order two glasses of white wine, a large order of mixed peirogi boiled with sour cream and onions on the side, and a large bowl of Borscht.  

3.  Eat as sloppily as possible.  Really mush that Borscht around on your face and chew and talk with your mouth open.  Throw a few peirogi in with the Borscht for a “pus in blood” effect.  Practice the table manners of your spiritual guide, Eloise:


4.  Your new friend will potentially be disgusted by this and regardless of whether or not his wine has induced his urge to take a wee, he will excuse himself to use Veselka’s facilities.  When he does, move on to step 5.

5.  Ok, he’s in the bathroom!  Make a Ninja Move!  Chug your new friend’s wine and run onto the corner of 9th and 2nd!  QUICK!  Hail a cab.  If he comes running out cursing the day your were born slam the door and quickly text him CUS I’M A NINJA - POW!

Good luck, aspiring Nightlifers!

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