A friend has a joke about the girls from Brazil.
“Tricia, do you know what they call GISELE in Brazil?” he says, referring to BÜNDCHEN, LEO DICAPRIO‘s model amore and the most perfect human female ever created. “Average.” Rim shot.
Well, after seeing the BRAZILIAN GIRLS at Girlie Action’s 10-year anniversary and holiday party on Tuesday night at the Delancey, particularly the lead girl, SABINA SCIUBBA, I have to agree—even though she’s not really Brazilian. All ANGELINA JOLIE lips and long brown hair, with bangs covering her eyes to shield you from their lustful gaze, she makes Gisele seem like chopped meat, especially when singing a chorus that goes, “Pussy, pussy, pussy marijuana.”
In the audience, MURRAY HILL swooned, Gawker correspondent ANDREW KRUCOFF drooled, and I nearly fainted from Sciubba’s heat. Oh yeah, the music was pretty good too. Upstairs, J.D. SAMSON of LE TIGRE bumped and grinded with MARY J. BLIGE (on record, alas, not in person), following a set by a pair of brown-haired brothers dressed exactly alike in matching smiley-face tank tops. (They’re called VIRGIN TEARS, and they aren’t really virgins, either.)
The previous night, I caught the debut New York City performance of a Canadian outfit, JUNIOR BOYS, at Joe’s Pub. If Junior Boy JEREMY GREENSPAN fails at music, he might want to consider a career in stand-up. After several false starts and long silences, he cracked, “The promoter wanted to figure out how to get people to stay till 4 a.m. I think he’s just figured it out.” And, when they experienced still more problems, he fake pleaded, “Whatever you do, don’t look up at our soundman.”
If one needed any more reasons to love Canada (other than, you know, the legal marijuana, sensitive people, and approval of gay marriage), Junior Boys’ sublime, ethereal performance was yet another. (Frankly, their music made me want to take ecstasy and roll around on the floor.) When they played more upbeat tunes, the crowd actually worked to move the tables out of the way so they could dance. The whole thing smelled fishy, as New Yorkers are too lazy to lift a finger. I figured they must all be Canadians.
Punk rockers are sensitive too. Singer GALADRIEL (formerly of CANDY ASS, currently of PRETTY BOYS) saw the in-house turtle at the Park during a party and thought it looked sickly. An animal lover, she contacted a representative from People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA), who wrote a letter urging Park owners ERIC GOODE and SEAN MACPHERSON to take better care of the creature. “We are hopeful you will be willing to give some thought to how poorly reptiles fare in such artificial conditions, and allow him to be placed in a healthier, more appropriate environment,” PETA wrote, and warned that reptiles can carry salmonella and could be a possible health hazard in such a public place.
Goode wrote back to Galadriel, stating that the turtle in question is not a sea turtle but a freshwater Fly River turtle, “that is 100% legal to possess in NYC.” Goode says that the turtle was rescued from an unnamed local organization and that it’s not sick at all. “In fact the person that takes care of our fish tank has extensive turtle husbandry skills and has worked for local zoos and aquariums for years. We agree that it needs a better home and we are trying to find it one.”
Galadriel remains unconvinced, saying that a source has told her the club’s gone through several turtles (all allegedly illegal) that have all died. The club denies this and the turtle’s keeper, MAURICE RODRIGUES, the executive co-director and co-founding member of the Tewksbury Institute of Herpetology, a nonprofit institute that breeds endangered species of turtles and tortoises for conservation purposes, says, “They have invested thousands of dollars in filtration equipment, UV sterilization, and the proper UVA and UVB lighting for the turtle. No expense was spared. I assure you the turtle is in good hands.”
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on December 14, 2004