Posts tagged ‘industry’
I am just now getting out of bed at 1: 30 PM if that is any indication of how last night went. Lately i’ve been on a kick where I want to do different things and hang out with different people, so needless to say I went out at 11:30 last night stone cold sobes.
That didn’t last long.
Nadia is talking to this DJ guy, who is actually pretty fucking awesome. The thing I love about being friends with a girl (and I use that term loosely since she has a penis) is that their boyfriends always feel the need to be chivalrous. That translates to free drinks. I got faced pretty early on.
We started at Ninth Avenue Saloon for cheap drinks where I was able to parlay my nipples hanging out of my tank top into good bar service. I met up with a guy who I hooked up with 9 years ago from Florida, so it was basically a double date except me and Nadia were having too much fun with each other and left the boys out. Then we went to the Ritz, which was fucking packed and played great music. We met up with Chris Ryan, Nathan Kelly and JoeLee from the Boys group, and I had a champagne shot which is against my rules, since mixing champagne and liquor basically guarantees my brain will feel like a 5’3″porn star’s vagina after a big black bukkake gang-bang. Nadia was pretty much giving her guy a blowie on the dance floor when she wasn’t break-dancing to dub-step. We stopped by Posh to basically pee in the corner and ended up at Industry, which is normally a black hole that sucks us in every weekend, but since I haven’t been there in a while it counts as doing something different.
Can I just say that the cunty bartenders at Industry can kiss my puckered asshole?
I guess I can say it, because I just did.
Then, Nadia and I ditched the guys in favor of breaking into a construction site and Read more…
Let me start of by saying that my new roomate doesn’t have a job just yet (he just moved here). So since I work from home we spend a lot of time together nowadays and sometimes we get a little stir crazy. Sometimes we paint faces on volleyballs and talk to them, form tribes and murder fat kids named Piggy and break down bathrooms with axes to kill our manorexic wives. So we decided to go out last night.
We started of at Calypso, which is on the rooftop of XVI (where highbar was last summer).
The guy I cocked last night seems to think I look like Jacob from Twilight. Yes, he is very very attractive so No, he doesn’t have to be smart or have especially good taste. So the pic to the left is me trying my best to look like Taylor Lautner–asian nail salon judgy eyes, nose resembling a recycled soup can and juiced up shoulders abound. And I did try to growl for him but it came out sounding more like a guinea pig receiving a prostate exam.
Let me also formally state that I don’t understand why everyone is out and about and clogging up the trains so early. Doesn’t anyone sleep anymore?
A Gloganvlog Retraction And Wingmanning Update
Dear Gloganvlog Readers,
I apologize deeply for an egregious error. When I posted recently that I met an Irish guy on St Patricks day at a Urinal at Industry I failed to mention that my friend Freck’s not only introduced us–but sent the guy back into the bathroom after our meeting–making sure I had every opportunity to seal the deal. Which I did. And again this morning. Even though Frecks is anonymous, he felt strongly that I should commend his wingmanning skills since I bitch about them in every other wingman-related post I have ever written. My apologies go out to frecks, his family, the NAACP, Irish men everywhere, Urinals everywhere, my own blessed taint, and of course Jesus.
Amen.
-The Gloganvlog team.
A Gloganvlog Must: Ironic Holiday Sex
And by that, I mean that on St Patrick’s Day I actually met the holiest of holies–an Irish guy. And yes he let me play with his shellele.
It was like any other night at Industry–except that for once three of my best friends were in the same place at the same time: Frecks, Shindia, and Logan.
As you well know, Frecks is about as good at wingmanning as Rebecca Black is to having real problems. But may the Irish gods bless him, he keeps on trying.
After several failed attempts we were at a urinal–which is apparently my favorite place to meet guys since I am George Michael. Frecks was on one end, me on the other, and a guy wearing a full on pinstripe suit between us. I am normally very respectful about urinal protocol, but since Frecks and I were having a conversation, my eyes inadvertently glanced down for a moment and I saw (drum roll please)
The guy was uncut. Anyone who knows me knows that finding an uncut guy for me is literally like discovering a leprechaun or unicorn. Meanwhile at Freck’s house (The Brazillian Consulate) it rains foreskin. Top top it all off, the guy was blond with blue eyes. I winked at Frecks and immediately jumped in and introduced us. Read more…
I know what you want to say: This isn’t Florida, Gary.
I get that New York isn’t Florida. But I still am. And as long as I still have perky tits and weigh less than 100 lbs sopping wet I will wear a wifebeater whenever I want, do you hear me Oprah on the Color Purple?
So we started out the night late at my friend Mason’s house. He spent the entire pregame trying coyly to get his twink boyfriend to have a threesome with the twink friend they had invited over. I kept trying to sit as close as possible to the twinks, hoping some of their stem cells would rub off and get into my eyes.
Then I found out one of the twinks was a virgin. For future reference–nobody ever tell me that again. I will make it my personal mission that you get plowed. Read more…
