I Was Washing My Hair

Rainy Sunday afternoons make for pointless Internet browsing in replacement of doing actual work (say, the many record reviews that I have due now). My distraction for the day was a black hole in the midnight underbelly vanity hall of fame: Last Nights Party. "Where were you last night?" the site still asks upon entry. Though my short answer is here, my extrapolation is this...

The popularity of NYC's Saturday night dance party staple, MisShapes, is incontestable, but from it has sprung so many spin-offs that, come the weekend, the negatives are that: 1. there is too much to choose from and 2. you can know of at least five different parties in one given night, and you still won't be as "in the know" as websites like Last Nights Party or Indierotica convey for the real "tuned-in" wild child.

Don't get me wrong - I'm not bitching about the fact that MisShapes has moved its venue all over lower Manhattan since its inception. My last visit to the indie dance vice-fest was more lame than it was on New Year's Eve, when Pete Wentz (FallOutBoy) trainwrecked as the Wost DJ EVRRR, and I made out with a kid who couldn't have been older than 20. (Hi...Kyle, right?) For most of the party's existence, photos have been popping up within the week, showing off the great time that was missed by all that were absent. These shoots have since turned into long waits by the bathroom (where everyone can both do a line and re-apply their eyeliner) to eventually stand against a concrete wall, pose, and have their photo taken for the website. Candid shots are, more or less, something of the past.

And now the same applies to Last Nights Party. Being more of a photo aggregator of parties all around, the website used to be entertaining because of the sheer shock it would grant its viewers. Mixed in with the booze-soaked, mascara stained drunken smiles were ocassional shots of hedonist holy trinity: lips, tits, and ass. Surfing the LNP website today, after a solid three months or so of not so much as a glance, I was expecting a lot more nudity, girl on girl, and all of the other boring bullshit that keep popping up on these NYC-and-beyond party sites. I was, instead, confronted with something so much worse...videos. Of girls getting dressed their crappy Williamsburg apartments. Of girls smoking cigarettes, touching their bare stomachs, and blowing smoke into the camera like overrated, amateur Warhol fanatics.

Am I dying for a decent dance party since I've moved to Boston? Yes. Have I found anything that seems remotely appealing and/or met anyone that actually wants to go to these gatherings to dance? No. But while absence can make the dancing shoes grow sadder, I'm not pining away for the ostentatious and exaggerated exhibition.


But I will admit that the first time I saw my ex-boyfriend on the site, over a year ago, I was entertained by both his photogenic sincerity and poor taste in women.

Myself excluded, of course.

Time Wasters:

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