I am not at Hammerstein Ballroom right now
I was supposed to be at Hammerstein Ballroom. I was supposed to attending Rolling Stone's 1000th Issue Party. I was supposed to be rocking out to the Strokes and possibly Lou Reed, drinking for free, munching on finger food and picking up swag.
Yet here I am. Somebody fucked up my RSVP and there was no convincing the walkie talkie-wielding, navy-blazered thugs. The worst part was, I was the one who passed on the invite, yet I was the only one in my party who couldn't get in. This is how Jesus must have felt when dad told him to die for everyone else's sins.
I'm not that upset though. I mean, I wish I were there and not here but this was a hookup. It's not like I paid anything. And at least I wasn't one of the many failed crashers who tried waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too hard to dress the part. Still, I'm madder than that time the grocery store didn't have Peanut Butter Chips Ahoys. That shit really pissed me off.
But fear not, I've handed my camera over to my trusty sidekick and told her to knock herself out. Not literally. I expect a full report on the debauchery with photographic evidence.
Update: Sidekick was unimpressed. Not a huge fan of Solomon Burke, or "fat guy who sat in a chair", apparently. The Strokes were
Update 2: Sidekick reports back. Also, hello Gawker and Jossip readers.
Update 3: Photos and video!
tags: Rolling Stone