This world is a world of lies, the Endarkenment is either advancing inexorably or merely giving way to the false searing dawn and howling winds of some terrible apotheosis-but, on the other hand the mysterious ongoing Party Report, (once restricted to a select e-mail list of the discreet and ridiculously privileged) is now available to the blog-reading masses! Here’s an example:
I got there too soon and immediately regretted not timing things more precisely with The Donor, because the place was infested with smiling, nodding, Whole-Foods hipsters, clad in vintage layers against the cold, hair neglected just enough to show that theyâ€™re not about appearances.
I was spotted by Ms. Bullet as I walked through the door. She greeted me pleasantly, which is weird, because Iâ€™m pretty sure she overheard some of my Unfiltered Assessments at a party, and it didnâ€™t look like she liked them. And now sheâ€™s feigning friendshipâ€¦hm! I did the same and then slipped off to reconnoiter.
The Gypsy Tea Room has some great posters in it, and some of the bar “booths” are covered with decorative black velvet, which is nice.
There was a band playing, with lonely lyrics, distortion, and such *earnest* performers! And with four more such bands waiting in the wings â€“ wait! They were waiting in the bar! This explained the holistic homogeneity of the audience, full of People Who Care About The Things That *Really* Matter, like fucking girls with Enid glasses in Army surplus clothing.
Oy vey! This was a veritable Ashburne Glennapalooza, a mob of Alternative Alchemists trying to extract the “cooze” from “acoustic”! Thank God the meter was running out, because if I stayed too long I was sure to die of sincerity poisoning.