Tuesday, April 24, 2012

AMERICAN NIGHTS

Cheap whiskey, cheaper beer, fake eyelashes, faker nails, leather jackets, disco balls, late night booty calls; all the things we hold near and dear to our hearts. "American Nights" is a photography book about New York City nightlife through the lens of Brooklyn based photographer and Nuclears manager Ky DiGregorio. It scrutinizes the tales of friends, love, music, creation, fashion, passion, sadness, and hard work of one of NYC's most illustrious and beloved parties: Magic Monday.


I was on the verge of tears when I found out this book would become a reality. I feel like a legend. I frequently glimpse through my CBGB book and would think about how we're creating a second generation of the "Golden Age" of New York rock n'roll. I would tell Ky her iconic photos reminded me of the people I look up to and idolize in my CBGB book, a 160 page spread capturing 30 years of NYC's underground rock from 1973 to the present, only to be told her book featuring our faces was in the works.

A small town Jersey boy who idolizes 70's culture/music and dreamed about NYC stardom, would survive high school by styling his hair in crazy styles and adorning himself in gender ambiguous garments would eventually begin his journey to conquer the city of neon lights and dive bars. So this means a lot to me. I still have a long way to go, but if this isn't validation for my vision and future, I don't what is. So thanks you crazy wig-wearing, photo-snapping, partner-in-crime and all over perfect human being...and keep taking my picture.


I hope Iggy, Keith, Joan, Debbie, etc, don't mind making room for some more people I'm inspired by who are seen in this book. And I hope you, faboosh reader of mine, are inspired by us as well. Make sure you purchase the book HERE, available in hardcover and softcover!

CUZ WE'RE THE QUEENS OF NOISE

Friday, April 13, 2012

Abolish Legislative Douchery

Since 1977, the Federal Advisory Committee on Blood Safety and Availability has instituted an archaic and discriminatory rule that forbids men from donating blood if they have engaged in sexual intercourse with another man, even ONCE. This bears an unfortunate circumstance by virtue of our nation's recent blood shortage, and if the ban were lifted an estimated 219,000 pints of blood could be donated according to Williams Institute for Sexual Orientation Law and Public Policy at the University of California, Los Angeles School of Law. It's a really fucking trite restriction considering ALL blood donated today is screened, and with today's technology HIV and AIDs can be detected up to two weeks before it is contracted. 


I myself have endured the effects of abominable prejudice from blood donating services which monopolize a large portion of my campus' social activity and fundraising events. Blood drives appoint people to persuade passerby students to donate blood, however make it abundantly clear to avoid students who fit a homosexual stereotype. I myself, notorious for an eccentric wardrobe considering 85% is dominated by womens' clothing (thanks mom), fear not to strut the corridors of the university in a purple cardigan from 1984. However, should I ask to donate blood, I receive a look of disapproval and repugnant disdain. 


Thanks to a brave individual and also a personal close friend of mine, Michael Heroux has taken a massive step forward towards lifting the restriction on gay men from donating blood. His petition has already heralded a massive impetus of 700+ signatures since its inception four days ago and has potential to get federal attention. By sharing and spreading it, we have a chance to lift this ban and save the lives of countless people. Tweet your twats, share on Facebook, post a bulletin on Myspace, or word of mouth works too! 


It takes two seconds to sign, so don't be a cuntbucket. Sign it HERE.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Nuclear Mania!

I rolled out of my bed in Long Island, vomited, threw on a denim vest, and made the pilgrimage to Brooklyn to shoot the video for The Nuclears' single "Myrtle Avenue at 4:00 AM." It's just what Jesus would have wanted on a bright and early Sunday morning. I was in Brooklyn a few hours earlier drinking the most potent margaritas ever, thus the subsequent puking pre-video shoot, and there I am 4 hours later getting styled a la Nazi youth (see below) and drinking beer. Pizza, beer, and rock n'roll. I couldn't have asked for a better Sunday morning.



Sporting a new look for the video which premiered at a jam packed Tammany Hall on April 9th! Affectionally dubbed as GregMania 2.0--Hitler's Wet Dream

The premise of the video was a recreation of a German TV show, which was named under fraudulent purposes as "MusikScheibe." Shot at House of Yes in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, the set featured a "live performance" as a crowd of 70's-esque teens insipidly danced along to the infectious tune of "Myrtle Avenue at 4:00 AM." Check out the clip below:


So make sure you purchase the single HERE along with the B-side "Don't Like it, Don't Get It, Don't Care" featuring some of the most impressive guitar riffs I have ever heard (I'm looking at you, Mick) along with artwork shot by one of my best friends, Ky DiGregorio.


Thirty seconds into watching these boys rehearse my pants are already drenched. Words do no justice for my love of these boys. Coming from a music snob, I vehemently agree with their title as NYC's best rock n'roll band. Talented and captivating musicians who pulverize the stage after every performance, as well as blossoming friends of mine, I'm proud to say I don't go a day without listening to a Nukes tune. So make sure you check these motherfuckers out. GregMania stamped and approved. Boom.

Friday, April 6, 2012

Detox Diary

Well, if you've checked this blog for an update in the past few weeks you probably just saw a tumbleweed blow by. It's been an overwhelming whirlwind of stress, confusion, fabulosity, with a hint of mental instability. I just wasn't cut out for the archetypal college life as much as I was the for antithetical college life. Not many people go to class and directly after adorn themselves in leopard sequined tights and studded jacket and head to an event. I haven't been out and about on the scene lately as often as I would like to be by virtue of abundant amounts of work, but that's going to change in a few months. I'll going to call the movement Coup Dé Mania. Summer 2012. Stay tuned ;).

You need Plan B after staring at my legs

I feel like I'm living a double life in a way, so I'm thanking baby J for spring break right now.  At this point it's not even conducive to any form of a salubrious lifestyle. I would have let Donald Trump sit on my face for a few days off. Stress, stress, stress! Premature gray hair is not the look!

My babe Leah and I posing for photographer Derek Soto, BOOM.

In other news, I'm enjoying a few quiet days off home in the 'burbs. It's nice because I get to drink tequila and masturbate in my own bed until I pass out!!! That and my cat totally judged me when he saw me sucking spilled beer from my sweater. Also, my dad has been in a sour mood and I'm not really sure why. It might be because I didn't take the garbage out like he asked. Or it might be because I posted "I <3 big black cock" on his LinkedIn account. Not sure!! 

So it's been interesting. My battery needs recharging. Hopefully I'll get to blog more while I'm at home rotting and touching myself to Dawson's Creek. 

Also, I've been having too much fun with different hair color:

80's Cyndi Lauper realness

TECHNICOLOR PROLIFERATION