By Ray LeMoine

Sup bitch?

Anyone else love this clip of Mark Wahlberg losing it on Jimmy Kimmel last night? On the show, Wahlberg acted like he really hates an Andy Samberg SNL skit mocking him. A buddy of mine works on Kimmel’s show and says Wahlberg was dead serious—to the point of “taking himself too seriously.” But I love that Marky Mark is still a whigger at heart. Guy was raised in Dorchester, guy. Sweet. Few cliches are cooler than the Boston whigger, and the fact that Wahlberg still holds true makes me proud. These days, people are often afraid to threaten others with physical violence on national television. But, in the White Negro tradition of Norman Mailer, Marky Mark has no problem promising to bust Andy Samberg’s “ugly nose” on CBS.


By Ray LeMoine

Nas played a free show last night. And while I missed the show I did happen to chill with that motherfucker at Goldbar until almost 5am. Yes, that’s right, Nasir Jones, Kelis, Cee Lo, Eve, and a dozen or so others were with Christian Alexander smoking blunts and dancing at a relatively empty Goldbar. The DJ was superb, mixing old school rap, funk, and soul. 

NYMag was at the Nas show, saying he “generally just looked like a top contender in a Coolest Person Alive tournament.” Well, it’s safe to say that when Nas (wearing a blue velour track suit and crooked ALIFE hat) and Kelis (white tights, experimental jumper, Chanel bag) were dancing and smoking a blunt to some weird funk jam at 345am this morning he officially won the tournament. Further proof: Nas had no attitude—his bodyguards were dancing not being dicks—and he was friendly to any well-wishers. 

How did this party come together? Christian Alexander used to be VIP host at The Box, a crazy sex theater/nightclub downtown. He’s also an American hero, and my old pot dealer’s ex-roommate (long story). Anyway, last night I met up with Christian at about 2am after leaving, uh, The Box, having heard he set up this Nas afterparty. Without Christian, The Box misses out on these strange impromptu rap-world parties. Still, The Box has been packed two Tuesdays straight. It seems all The Box’s legal troubles—complaining neighbors, community boards, and employees—have led them to kind of re-launch. I saw a bunch of new promoters there, but no “celebrities” and few familiar faces.

Christian’s held two crazy parties this week: On Monday, he hosted a small party at La Esquina attended by both James Nachtwey and Cee Lo. Who else can get a Grammy winning rapper in the same room as the world’s foremost photojournalist—at 230am? 

Nachtwey and Nas? WTF? Only in Christian Alexander’s world…

By Ray LeMoine

“We should have had sex Friday but we missed a connection…”

Ok, so here’s what we know: Some girl wrote a “missed connection” about the Radio Silence book party last Friday in DUMBO. I queried who she was (see post below) and some commenters and friends gave me leads. It seems the girl’s name is Jamie—who is “actually hot”—and the dude was Stephen D Turpin. Now, you two need to get it on…and then write about it on craigslist.

I googled “Radio Silence book” and this came up:

I noticed you at the radio silence book party last night in DUMBO, but you failed to respond to my usually highly effective seduction tactics of getting caught looking, then staring at the floor, then running away. You had on an olive green coat, a red scarf (I think) and dark hair that you kept playing with. You’re tall and you look a tiny bit like Michael Showalter (in a good way). I was wearing a striped shirt tucked into jean shorts with black tights and boots, and I have dark, chin-length hair. I’ve also got some tattoos on my arms, but despite my badass appearance, I am painfully shy and nerdy. Hmm, what else. Your friends had glasses, I think. And I saw you again as I was riding my bike away. You’re adorable, send me an email.

Who is this? And what male did she flirt with?

By Ray LeMoine

Just got a text that read: “Kanye, Don C, and bodyguard arrested in LA 2hrs ago for betaing yo TMZ papp, and breaking camera. U heard it here first…”

By Ray LeMoine

Sloppy again, P6:

September 11, 2008 —

BRITISH billionaire Mike Ashley, who owns the Newcastle United soccer club, flew to New York for Fashion Week and spent an inordinate sum of money at West Chelsea hot spot Pink Elephant. An insider said, “He spent $200,000 in the club and ordered well over 200 bottles of champagne including Cristal and Dom Perignon – buying a bottle for every patron in the club including Kevin Connolly and Jerry Ferrara, [ex-athletes] Mo Vaughn [and] Deion Sanders and Black Eyed Peas’ will.i.am.”

My neighbor was at this Pink party. It wasn’t last week but the week before. Ooops.

By Ray LeMoine

I attended the Prada event last night with my self-proclaimed “wanker flatmate” (he’s a Brit). The semiannual event was held at their Rem Koolhaus-designed Soho store, which is shaped like a half-pipe. It was a great party, packed until the end, and whoever did the lighting is brilliant. Kanye West was talking to every person there. So much for that diva reputation. I heard a guy try to the cut the line at the bar by using this line: “Heather Graham needs vodka.” The bartender just stared at him. Pretty sure I spotted Perry Farrell there with a Sunset Strip-ish blonde.