Last Wednesday, I took SBX, her pal Holle, and my best friends, eyehawk and zegas, to see author Jonathan Ames' latest set of unholy shenanigans at Mo Pitken's in the lower east side of NYC. We sat at a special table with the lovely Fiona Apple, themangina, and his wife Valmonte Sprout [aka n00t_gliimwoswa]. Jonathan showed the rough-cut of his never before seen TV pilot, WHAT'S NOT TO LOVE?, based on stories and situations from his first book collection of the same name. People laughed and then Miss Saturn came on stage and hula hooped.
Jonathan challenged the audience to arm wrestling matches and he beat two people right quick before SBX blurted out my name and challenged my estate. Fully armed with faux bravado, I swaggered over to the stage and engaged Jonathan, my pal and amateur pugilist, who was in far better shape than I. The crowd went wild when the melee sustained dramatic twists and turns and I put up a good fight but eventually lost. It didn't help that themangina, who was refereeing the macho parlay, psychologically sabotaged me by repeatedly yelling, "You're going to break your arm!" as Jonathan's welter might slowly but surely succumbed me.
Afterwards, themangina, dressed in full Phyllis Diller regalia, wrestled a woman on a blue mat and won [the night before he'd lost to a blind woman], and n00t_gliimwoswa furnished the audience with an abstract dance dubbed "Sleep Victim." Moby had been scoring the latter half of the evening by playing incidental piano and ended his participation by seducing a female audience member to strip her shirt and play drums on her naked back as her lungs whaled block rockin' beats. Jonathan ended the night with his legendary "Hairy Call."
( Lots of pix and a short movie...Collapse )