Loony Chicks


The surest way to get a write-up about your party in The Village Voice: Have a writer-DJ at said party. Yes, bribery works, folks. Theo and Alexander Thompson booked Miss Fly as a guest DJ at the weekly Kitten Klub gig on Wednesdays at Plaid, and it was fun.

More fun, however, was watching Miss Theo (sounds like Miss Cleo) giggle maniacally through the Doxies‘ set beforehand. “Whenever I see the young girls playing, I start laughing.” She giggled some more and made motions like she was using a walker. “They’re soooooo cuuuuute!” That’s right, she’s a loony chick.

It was also nice to finally meet her boyfriend, Sean, formerly of the Toilet Boys, now of the band Afterparty, especially after spending many years watching him dance in tighty whities at various gay boy parties like the now defunct Foxy. I informed him that I used to be a Foxy patron, and he said, “Oh, man. Did I ever go to the bathroom with you?”

I quickly went through various sordid evenings in my head—that one night with the redheaded chick and her creepy boyfriend and . . . uh, not fit for print. Oh, and the time I accosted Boy George while on . . . also not fit for print. And the time I was topless onstage and the New York Post ran my photo, which was apparently quite fit for print.


Sean explained that there had been a contest and the host Mario Diaz (who was also my roommate at the time) whored poor Sean out to the winner, who could take him into the bathroom and do whatever with him. The winner got her prize and “wanted to get to know me,” recalled Sean. “I told her it doesn’t work that way.” Damn.

Update on the cabaret-law front: Those getting alarming e-mails about Gretchen Dykstra, the commissioner of the Department of Consumer Affairs, proposing to shut bars down by 1 a.m. can relax, sort of. She doesn’t want to shut bars down by 1 a.m., but she does want them to get a “nightlife license” if they plan to be open past that time with loud music. And that, says the New York Nightlife Association, will lead to a slippery slope, which will give the DCA greater powers to padlock venues than it currently has under the dreaded cabaret law. And if a venue owner doesn’t have the money to get the license or to pay for the expenses of a sound engineer or to get new soundproofing installed, the bar will effectively be shut down by 1 a.m.

However, fretting about the 1 a.m. closing might seem a little premature, since it turns out that Dykstra hasn’t even submitted the legislation to the City Council yet. When the DCA announced its solution to the cabaret law, it also stated that the City Council would be getting the paperwork late in November. It’s now February, and no dice. DCA spokesperson Dina Improta says, in perhaps the understatement of the year, “Drafting legislation is complicated. We’re working on it.”

Blind items about nightclubs aren’t that exciting, but we’re gonna give it a whirl, anyway. Which new club owner is planning to open up a nightclub-themed casino on Las Vegas’s fabulous Strip? Which new mega-club allows rampant smoking? Which club owner (whose venue may or may not be up for sale) is rumored to be moving to another venue that’s definitely for sale? We heard they are in bed together.

Not wanting to be a total tease: Nell’s has been sold, and in its funky place, we’re gonna get another bottle-service bar. Somebody shoot me or send me to Miami already. The bar’s been bought by Noel Ashman—best known for the one of the first bottle-service lounges, Veruka. A real estate website reveals that owners of Nell’s were asking a cool $2 million, which makes the other listed nightspots look like bargains. Bar 13 is up for sale for $750,000, Chateau (ex-Moomba) is up for $350K, and XVI Bar sold for just $200,000. That’s less than a studio apartment in this city. And you can charge people to come inside! And you can overcharge them for watered-down, badly made drinks. Sign me up!

There’s something in the air: In the span of one week, two major European DJ-producers got sick and canceled their shows at APT. Both Robert Henke of Monolake and Andrew Weatherall fell ill and never made the trip to the little lounge. (The former has a serious case of tinnitus.) Laments APT’s music director, Alec DeRuggiero, “Did I walk under a ladder or break a mirror last month?”