Barcelona: Sammy Jo's Ai Caramba Adventure!

aaah, I didn't get to say good-bye. boo hoo!
Hope u settle in , I think its going to be a really great trip for u!!
XRR

When you told me you were leaving I was jealous.
Now that I know you have a terrace...
I'M GREEN!$#@$%%^&^*!

Ok, so I think I'm finally beginning to feel at home here in BCN. I have to admit when I first arrived I was in a bit of a panic. Like "What the hell were you thinking?" kind of stuff. But I've managed to find my supermarket, my morning coffee and pastry place, and the nearest kfc so I'm much better. Friday night my friend Keyan asked to play a mini set at his friend's magazine party which was a blast. The magazine is a quaterly showcase of about 30 new artists. Amanda was the covergirl for this (their second) issue which seemed like a good omen to me. The space was just a tiny gallery off the Ramblas. Here's the invite...

After downing lots of free cava we stumbled over to a club called Metro which is kind of like a spanish SBNY, if more NYers went to SBNY. Although the music had greatly improved since the last time I had been there (Metro I mean). Along the way we managed to scoop up some Russian porn star who had everyone drooling. I'll try and find out his "name" so I can dig up pics. Very lucas of Bel Ami fame. Of course Keyan went home with him- sexual predator doesn't even begin to describe Keyan, and I love him dearly for it because he's consistent, and quite a looker. By 6am it was time to fall into a cab and attempt to pronounce my address to an unfortunate suspecting taxi driver. Overall, a good christening.

Saturday was spent regretting everything I did the night before. Well, not everything. I managed to convince myself that I was still jetlagged and the only way through it all was to remain either in bed or on the couch.

My bed...

My couch...

Whoa, sorry about the size of those pics. I'll try and reduce future ones. So that brings us to today, Sunday. I'm sorry I don't have much exciting news to report. That's going to happen a lot here. I'm just trying to make sure I have some sort of account of this time in my life. Right now I've still gotta get settled in and make this place my own. Here's some other pics of my apt...

Extra bedroom aka the smoking lounge...

Patio...

Ok bear with me as I'm still trying to figure out posting pics from my phone.

ANd boo, I'm sorry we didn't get a proper goodbye. Guess you'll just have to come over here. Are you going to Paris with BAG in April?

Well, I'm in the airport in Belgium on a 3 hour layover on my way to Copenhagen. Didn't sleep a wink for no reason at all. Even popped an Ambien at 2am and the only effect it had was to make me get up and a make a grilled cheese sandwich. By 5 I finally drifted off till my alarm woke me at 6:30. I've got kookoo magoo jetlag. It seems to change every day. But whatever I made my flight and after a disco nap will be ready to play tonight. It's the start of Danish fashion week (*) and I'm playing the (bloody) launch of some nightclub's fashion line. This outta be good. But as I said right now I'm just sitting in the Brussels airport wondering if the smell of rotting garbage is coming from the woman sitting next to me or is just the wifi station itself.

The face of glamorous international travel...

I have to hand it to you Pickles..
People think it's so glam to travel like that.
IT'S HELL!
I really don't know how you do it.

Your apt. looks fierce.
I LOVE our room.

As I said in NY, you are doing the right thing.

JUST DON'T COME BACK WITHOUT A HUSBAND!!
Get a Russian.

Yep, there's nothing like the burnt toast feeling that comes from being microwaved too frequently at 35,000ft and then having to walk in to some performance situation.

But we know you were born for it Pickles.

For someone whose taste runs to Spanish blood I don't know why Daddy is recommending Russian for you. Maybe he can elaborate....Daddy?

I'm just saying, go where the money is.

You're flats in spain... i say a hot young risk it for a biscuit Morroccan that way I can come over for weekends and entertain him while you are so busy working these fashion events in Belgium!
Knock em dead tinker.
Let me know if u head over to Tenerife have some fab music biz chums there.

I see you got them nice twin beds there.
One for me an' one for my girlfriend Jackie Bigalow.

I guess that means they'll have to label one bed PUTA and the other CONYO.

I've still got that restraining order against Jackie Bigalow so you'll have to find another tavel companion, Bonnie.

No prob.
Maybe I'll come with my friend Britney.
I been sort of helping her with her career.
She really looks up to me.

i am still hung over from her going away party

Mine or Britney's?

YOURS!!!

Oh right. Sorry.

So let's see where did I leave off? Oh yes I was on my way to Copenhagen. Well I made it and had a nice trip. It was fashion week which meant pahty pahty pahty. My first night I played an event thrown by these adorable boys called POP. It was cute but I was still a bit tired so was in bed early. Oh these are the Pop boys (and some drunk girl sideways)...

Thursday I got to go back into a recording studio with my friend Kjeld and finish a remix we had started ages ago. We'll see if it ever gets to see the light of day (have to clear some publishing stuff), but it was nice to sort of tie the bow after a year and a half. That night I met up with my friend Metz who works at this great gallery/store/event planning organization called Art Rebels ( http://www.artrebels.com/ ). We downed cocktails at a fab japnese place called Umami which is the best sushi restaurant in Cope. Fortunately her bf is the head bartender so it was bottomless glasses of his ginger passion hooch. Then to bed. Me and Metz...

Friday as spent mastering the remix and wandering around town. I do think Copenhagen is a great city to just walk around because it does have some great nooks that you can get lost in. Luckily it wasn't too cold and my iPod was charged.

Saturday was spent getting ready for the party that night, an event called Laekker, that my dj grandfather Kjeld helped organize. They had it in the Tivoli Gardens and even
brought in a hot tub.

Walkway to the party...

Ok so that first pic isn't where the party was. That's actually the theatre in Tivoli. But that was the view from the party. BTW Tivoli is this extremely old amusement park that opened in August of 1843. Supposedly the creator got the money to build it by telling the King "when the people are amusing themselves, they do not think about politics". Sounds about right. So it's pretty rare that a nightclub event happens there. And Laekker was actually the first party I ever played in Copenhagen 3 and a half years ago so it was a nice sort of circle to complete.

Here's the dj booth. (Which btw Daddy, had no monitor so I was going crazy trying to mix- you know what I mean) They had Terry George art on the video screens. That's Kjeld...

I played the late set that night and while I didn't shit the bed I didn't quite rock it like I had hoped. At first I was real depressed about it cause of all the anticipation leading up to the night. But after some therapeutic time in the hot tub with the POP boys I got over it and realized it's just a party. But I'll tell you those danes can be very fickle (sp?) sometimes.

Sunday I made the journey back to BCN to what I now really consider my pad. Now I just gotta spruce up the place a bit, the mustard walls are doing me head in! Next weekend...MADRID!

Well How could you rock without monitors!!!!!
The nerve!

Sidebar: A DJ plays a song on CD player A. While listening to CD player B in the headphones he or she mixes the next song in matching up the beats. But there is a time delay. There can be a full second difference from what the headphones are "saying" and what is really happening on the dance floor. Albert Einstein describes it in length but I'll spare you the full theory of DJ Relativity.
In other words, A DJ NEEDS A MONITOR!

Poor baby.
Well remember what I told you.
In case there is no monitor...
ALWAYS wear a cute outfit!

Did you see the Little Mermaid statue?

Hey Pickles,
The next time you are in Copenhagen say Hi to my friend Gkjhtumptph.
He can hook you up with whatever you need.

I think I met his sister Annemtzropkensen.

Did you know that translates as, "Have my ass, the lacrosse team did." -?

More photos please.

I've filed a missing person report on Pickles with the local constabulary. I asked that every drained cocktail glass be searched. Hopefully they will find our traveller soon.

Hey I'm here. Just been doing boring stuff this week like buying fake flowers and ashtrays and researching spanish schools so thought I'd spare you. Uness you're having trouble sleeping then I can go on. He he he...

Promise I'll have more juicy bits soon. Tomorrow in MAdrid I'm hanging out with that lil hustler Jared Abbott and the guy who runs Rentboy.com. A bientot!

Hola papis! Sorry for the silence but wa waiting for the writing juices to start flowing again. So lets see.... Oh yes MADRID!

I have only been to Madrid once before and that was for literally 10 hours to play a concert with the Scissors so all I saw was the venue. But everyone says how fierce it is, even people in BCN (Barcelona) which counts itself as a total rival. So I was excited about going there to play and knew I really had to BRING IT. I arrive Friday evening and go to my friend Jeff's place for dinner with a group of 8 which was fab. He cooked a real feast and afterwards his bf brought out a cake to celebrate Jeff's contracting HIV. Or as they put it, "he got his House In Virginia." I gagged! An HIVersary as I put it. Just when you think you've seen it all. Oh and on the cake was written in icing "Sustiva" which they said is some fierce old school cocktail. I bowed. One of the people at the dinner was Jordan of the Misshapes who looked like he just made in his pants when the cake came out.

Afterwards we mosy (sp?) on over to the club which is PACKED, like Gary 49 packed. With a line around the block. EEK! The music is super loud indie and electro and 80's. But the crowd is super young so I'm feeling like the old geezer getting up there to play for the grandkids. But I have to say they lived and I turned it. A little shaky at first trying to sort out my set but 20 minutes into it and they were puddy. I'm signing body parts and smacking hands. Real silly stuff but it's the kind of thing that assures any dj that they hit the nail on the head and drove it in with one bang. Know whatta mean? 6am lights on and I have 1 hour to get back to the hotel freshen up and then head to the airport to catch a 9am flight to Vienna for my next gig.

This is Club Low in Madrid....

That's my boy!

Where are you playing in Vienna?

Hey daddy well not exactly Vienna. Oh and btw I finally got a camera so no more lopsided big blurry pics. Promise!

Oh and I hope you "accidentally" spilled red wine on the Misshaped one like I showed you.

So... make it to the airport, throw some coffee down my gullet, and get on the plane. Now, flying to Vienna at that ungodly hour isn't so bad but once I get there I then have to drive 2 hours to a town called Graz where the club is. A 2 hour drive with your buddies is hey no prob, ROADTRIP! A 2 hour drive with someone who doesn't speak english and you don't speak german and you've had 2 hours sleep sitting in a plane seat...not the look. But luckily the guy who picked me up was the other dj for the night so he told me all about the music at the club- which actually turned out to be the complete oppostite of what he said- and how many girls there are. I just sort of smiled and nodded as best I could. My gay pride losing out to my lack of sleep. Sorry sisters. Get to the hotel and pass out for hours.

It's Saturday night in Graz which is like Saturday night in Philly I suppose. Lotsa bars and a couple big clubs. Dom Im Berg is where I'm playing and it's rammed, always is. Now the name means "In A Mountain" and as you can guess the club is literally inside a mountain. You climb a staircase in a tunnel to this huge cave that they've set up a sound and light system in. Full on wall of video screens chandeliers etc. Having been told in the car that they only like funky house, the commercial stuff, I'm thinking I have about 2 records to play and then it's hail mary's for the next hour and 45 minutes. Well bless sweet jesus i guess funky house to my driver is electro to me cause they had no interest in anything of the house, or what one might call "funky commercial house". (Aside: funky commercial house is basically someone's way of saying crap club music.) My biggest records were thumpin', crunchy, bleepy stuff. They are huge beatport fans over there. (More aside: that's an online music download store which can be fierce. Lots of remixers who are now becoming huge started by dumping all their first works onto beatport.) So the job goes well. Not incredible, but earned my keep. Oh there's one other thing about this night. So I'm standing there djing on this platform with giant bank of video screens behind me, this huge cave in front of me like the size of Irving plaza almost, and I suddenly think "Hmmm I wonder what this place used to be? I wonder why they built this gigantic system of caves inside this mountain in Austria." A bit creepy n'est-ce pas? Oh well, back to BCN...

Well I am back home and happy to announce I HAVE A DIGITAL CAMERA! So hopefully this means my pics will be clear, of a normal size and actually right side up. The pics you have seen in the past have been doctored by Daddy so that they at least are right side up. I'm hoping now that I'm ditching my camera phone I will be able to put up more pics and more interesting pics. These are my first ones, just some buildings I snapped today while walking around. I live for the architecture here. Along with the older stuff there are these fantastic Gaudi buildings and modern structures that somehow fit into the mold. Hang on still sorting out this photo stuff...

And this...

Here is Placa Catalunya which is a park at the top of Las Ramblas (like their Broadway). They have some beautiful statues there...

And...

And another building...

The buildings are all along Passage de Gracia which is north of Las Ramblas and ends up in my neighborhood which is called Gracia. The street narrows and becomes like Avenue A....sorta.

Oh and Daddy I started my first Ableton live tutorial session yesterday. FINALLY!

Hello readers. I'm back from another overnight adventure. This time to Milan. I can't believe it but there is a fierce club there called....LA MESSA! Yes the gospel of Messy has reached Milano! It is a party that changes venues every couple months and it was amazing. Now it is hosted by this place called Codice a Barre (Bar Code I'm guessing form the logo). And the party lives up to it's name. VERY messy boys and girls who party from midnight to 8am. The crowd is a fierce mix of gay/straight/tranny etc... It's run by this 58 year old Tranny named Bianca who is, of course, also a dj. The music was deep electro, very little vocals and lots of breakdowns and I rocked em. I had been told that it was a very me place and it totally was. The energy in that place was so festive even thought he music could be at times intense. ANd they didn't care if they knew a song or not, if the beats hit them then they screamed. Many hands in the air moments. It reminded me a lot of Gary 49 and was only slightly bigger. If you're ever stuck in Milan on a Saturday night DEFINITELY check this place out.

Now I'm back in BCN and must go to bed early because tomorrow morning I begin my spanish lessons- 4 hours a day 5 days a week. I don't know what the hell I was thinking signing up for this course, especially since I'm a horrible student. It just seemed like a good idea.

here are pics from last night...

Me and Bianca!

Satori where are you???

Is that Westwood you're wearing?

The MC. As you can see from my "dewy" complexion it was roasting in there. I love this guy's poon poon mouth!

Me and DJ Franco (opening DJ)

Fortunately today my flight wasn't until 5 so I got to have lunch with my friend Milly de Mori (http://www.myspace.com/millydemori) who is a fierce dj/producer/remixer. She lived in NYC for many years and then moved back to Milan a couple years ago. She used to go to Jackie and knows a lot of the old stomping grounds. We had such a great time recalling the "old days" and she loves hearing about what's happening now. Her style of music is electro/minimal I suppose. Definitely check out her myspace if you're a musichead. Here's us...

Jesus my head is like 3 times the size of hers! Note to self, get head shrunk.

I LOVE reading this topic.
It's like reading my life a few years ago!

The Empress and I were howling.
We SO know that 2 hour ride from the airport with the host who speaks no English and you've had 1 hour of sleep and are desperately trying to stay awake and friendly.

Hint: When in Italy Pickles, just lie about the thousands of women that you have bedded. They all do.

And those pics of the Gaudi bldgs. bring back great memories.
I love that city!
You are a lucky boy Sammy Jo.
Well, not "luck" exactly, "pluck" is more like it. You are an inspiration to all of the people reading this. Follow your dream people. Even if you have no talent!
(Hee Hee - you didn't think I would let that one go by did you?)

As far as the cave outside Vienna...
I can't even come close to that one.
You win Pickles.

But Milan,
I know "DJ" Bianca.
There is another DQ that you will undoubtably meet named Mario.
Let me know when you meet Mario.
Could be in Milan, Vienna, Barcelona...
anywhere in Europe.
A walking Christmas tree.

I'm glad to hear that you are back in school.
Ableton LIVE lessons and Spanish lessons!
As for the Spanish lessons...
May I suggest this guide to Institutes of Higher Learning

And finally...
Thank God you got a real camera!

So does the word"gaudy" come from"Gaudi"?
Those Gaudi buildings look exactly what I think buildings should look like. I hope we one day get an insane dictator... I mean a different insane dictatior... in the US who tears down all of the new glass boxes and replaces them with neo Gaudi!

Yes, that IS where the word "gaudy" comes from.

You should see the park he designed.
(Parque Guell)
It's insane and gorgeous (just like you Missy).

Yeah I've really worked this "no talent talent" to it's fullest! BAH! Oh Dads what I'm finding about being over here now is that I feel like I'm getting my inspiration and oomf back. It makes me excited to come back to NYC...when it gets warmer there.

And Daddy I tried that school first but I could never see the blackboard.

To anyone who might be reading my blahg, I apologize for the temporary abandonment. Have to sort out pics to post and will tell all about my trip to the Ukraine last weekend and Lisbon last night playing a party for Jameson whisky. VERY me and this whisky, sweetie. I was shameless whoring myself. But all in good fun. SO as soon as I am back at my flattop I´ll post all about the past week. But I will say now it is so strange because I am sitting in the computer center in Lisbon airport listening to the Cure on my iPod and almost exactly a year ago I was in the same place doing the same thing (blogging about the Scissor tour though, not my own) listening to the same music. Just kinda strange to me. Anyhoo, more soon....

Can't wait to hear about the Ukraine!

Ok so I know I got lotsa splaining to do for not updating this blahg but I really do have to wait for inspiration before I can start typing. If you're gonna take the time to read it I think it ought to be at least somewhat witty. So here goes....

When we last left off I believe I was heading into the weeeknd of Feb 29/March 1. The 29th was a friday and I was booked to play at what one could call my residency here in Barcelona- a club called Razzmatazz. (I'm playing there once a month.) It's a gigantic 5 clubs in one nightclub with all different sized rooms. And the music ranges from indie to pop to electro to trance to minimal depending on which room you are in. I believe the full capacity is something like 6000. Crazy, right? I usually play in the Rex Room or the Pop Bar which are the smaller rooms, think Gary 49. It's more of a straight vibe going on but really no one gives a fuck what or who you do they just wanna get effed up and dance. I've had great nights there and some shit ones so I always head to this job not knowing for sure what the night will be like. But the staff are super cool and give you the star treatment- dressing room, driver, bottles of whatever. And I'm not even the headliner. I get a couple friends to come over beforehand to have some vino and then around 2 we head to the club. OH and Mykle (aka Purple Pants) has flown in from Rome to hang out and make it one of his 3 birthday celebrations. He knows all my friends here and they live for his shenanigans. She's the craziest sober queen I know. So it's me Reuben, Julien (Reuben's french bf), and Mykle. Here's a pic....

Reuben is one of the first people I ever met in Barcelona thanks to Ned Stressen-Reuter. He's canadian but has lived in BCN for like 7 years or something. Real fun laid back. Julien, his bf (on the right), is young and french. He acts real snobby but we make such fun of him and he loves it. Those 2 are called the horses. We gave them this name after Julien sneered at one of Reuben's ex-boyfriends and said "Him?!?! But he's such a pony!" Mykle and I howled! So Julien and Reuben became the horses. The plan is to meet up with our friend Keyan at Razz. So we jump in a cab (forgoing torturing the driver with our kiki-ing), get to the club, dive into the dressing room where we meet Keyan who has probably had 50 vodka cocktails. He's a beautiful persian/swiss/american fag that makes me feel like a teetotaler (ok, not really). Here's Keyan and Reuben in the dressing room...

Here's Mykle and Julie. See....french.

At 3:30 it's time to go on so we amble upstairs to the Rex Room and luckily it's packed and the dj before is playing great stuff but nothing that I want to play so it segues nicely into my set. The room is a million degrees and the windows are sweating. Really good fun. Unfortunately my pics from the dj booth are crap so I only got like one of Keyan and his workmates. Here...

Oh and here's me and my friend Javi who the angel who books me at Razz and is always dragging us to afterhours dens of iniquity. Totally adorable...

Ok it looks like my chin is about to fold up into my nose for some reason. I find it very difficult to take a normal picture when djing. Either I'm in the middle of mixing so one shoulder is up by my ear (Quasimodo style) and my headphones are pressing all the skin on my face forward so I look like a sharpie, OR, I'm drenched in sweat but don't realize it so the pic is just one big shiny reflection off my face. That photo I guess is a bit of a combo of the 2.

So at 6am we're back in the dressing room. Keyan has fallen asleep in Mykle's lap, Julie and Reuben are starving, and I am desperate to get home because I have to get on a flight to Kiev at 10am. CORRECTION: I have to sober up and get on a flight to Kiev at 10am. CORRECTION: I have to sober up and get on 3 flights that will eventually land me in Dnepropetrovsk in the Ukraine. No joke that's how you spell it. This is a last minute bookng that I'm sort of dreading not only because of the 10 hour travel time but also because I just get the sense that there's been no promotion, it's a new club, and it's just south of bumblefuckshire. However, this is strictly one of those hooker gigs where I'm just a girl who can't say Nyet to that amount of rubles. It's an adventure I guess.

How many times have I told you about the perils of having your picture taken with your headphones under your chin!!!!
Will you ever learn?!!!!

Honey, you better get out of Spain before it's too late.
Your nose is startin' to look...
"European".

Is that Celine Dion's brother on the left?

It's always been that way. It's just that no one takes pictures of it in the states. BAH!

Tell us about Dnepropetrovsk Pickles!
I've only ever been to Dntzstrnztdgkstanztkltzt.

Alright, so after 45 minutes of sleep that sat. morning I make it to the airport and make all my flights and surprisingly I feel not too bad. I check into the hotel and an hour later we're off to the club. A place called Opera which some russian mafia dude has just opened spending supposedly 30 mill on. It looks like an opera house with several balconies looking over the dancefloor. The place holds about 600 and tonight there are about 100 people. Luckily I have come to find out that I am not alone on the bill. They have hired the singer from Mousse T, a fierce lady by the name of Emma Lanford. We meet in the dressing room and get on like a drunk house on fire. We're both gagging at the lack of people but promise to suppor each other throughout the night. Here's us with the promoter, this cool guy named Bart from Kiev who is just hired by the owner to throw money around.

As you can tell from the dressing room they went for ye olde timey realness, including flat screen tv. But all is not so bad and the floor is somewhat full when Emma takes the stage. The club is actually quite pretty and would be fun if it were just a bit...fuller. But these kids live for Emma's tracks so its not so bad.

You can see the guy filming and what he is shooting is showing on that huge screen at the back of the stage.

I like this shot cause I am literally crouching behind the dj deck to get it. I'm about to start.

Ok so about 1am I go on and with me come a troupe of gogo girls in top hats. This is great because I love when I'm not just standing alone in a dj booth on a stage. It helps to have things moving to distract attention from the fact that I don't move much. Ok that's not true, I dance and sing along to the records much to the chagrin of my dj father. BAH! Once a JC always a JC. The club is clearly for the owner to show off and buy pretty girls drinks. People stay and dance till about 2:30 and then boom someone lets the air out of the party and it's just me Emma and Bart dancing onstage in front of 5 people standing at the bar watching. While the night was a bit of a bust it's been good PR with Bart cause he apparently does lots of cool stuff around Kiev (according to Emma who knows him well). But wait the night isn't over...

Back in the dressing room Bart grabs the bottle of Jack Daniels and the 3 of us head to my hotel room via McDonald's (always a good idea at 3am in the Ukraine) for a late night booze cruise. We carry on till about 6 and then say goodnight. At 1:30pm we're all back together in the lobby. Fortunately Emma and I are taking the same flight to Vienna (she transfers to Hanover, I to Bacelona). We decide the best way to avoid what seems like an imminent hangover is to have a beer in the airport pub. BTW the airpot in Dprovovkskoveslasdk is exactly as you'd imagine. 2 gates, 1 pub, and a duty free shop selling vodka and Davidoff cologne. But the genius thing is that they don't have those row of uncomfortable seats that look like they were made so homeless people can't stretch out on them. No. They have huge pleather sofas arranged like it's a living room. WITH tall fake plants. We board our flight and get to spend the next 2.5 hours just laughing and scratching like us girls do. OMG I forgot to tell you that during my set at Opera, at one point they send out the second round of dancers and this time they all have fake afros on. I am speechless. Like, are they doing it cause Emma is here or is it just "Hey, it's a prty put on an afro!" Either way it seems a tad racially insensitive.

Arriving in Vienna we bid a hasty adieu because she has to run run run to catch her connecting flight while I have 3 hours to waste. It's so rare that I get to have a buddy along for these journeys, especially the airplane portion so it was really fierce to meet Emma and I hope we cross paths again soon. And if anyone out ther ever needs a voice to a song look her up on myspace cause she has major pipes!

That is so funny, when I was in Moscow a few months ago the club was handing out afro wigs to the crowd.
What is that about?
I was just on the phone with Larry Tee. He just got back from Moscow. We were comparing notes.
Russia is a strange place with a lot of money.

Guess waiting in line for toilet paper pays off eventually.

Now there are long lines for Afro wigs.
Poor things.
And we have so many...
at least I do.

Hello readers, I've just returned from a busy Easter weekend so thoguht I should report before it disappears into the ether of my mind.

Things began on Thursday (the 20th) with a job at a club on Las Ramblas called Fellini. Because everyone has off on Friday- and Monday- the Easter weeknd is one of the busiest for parties. They love to start Thursday and walk out of the sauna tuesday mornign and go into the office. So I've heard. ANYway, Fellini was a blast especially since my Friend Shanti who some of you probably know was in town and stopped by the club for a dance or two. It's her birthday week and she came to BCN with a bunch of friends to hang out. She looked amazing and it was really nice to see a home face. And she was gagging at my picture being in all these lightboxes in the club. I explained how, "yeah, things are quite different for me here." I would love to post a bunch of photos of that lovely evening but like an idiot I forgot my camera. Still not used to dragging it along with me everywhere. Will try and work on that.

Well, fortunately I remembered to bring along the old megapixels and chain to my jobs on Saturday and Sunday nights. Saturday night I played at this club literally in the middle of nowhere in the south of Italy. It was this small chateau transformed into a nightclub near the town of Bari (the heel of the boot). The space is great and it's actually outdoors covered by a gigantic tent. See...

Oh but wait I FORGOT! So of course because the promoter waited till the last minute I have the worst flight schedule to Italy. I leave BCN at 12:30am Saturday (Friday night) arriving in Bari at 2:30am. Obviously the flight is delayed because gee there's so much air traffic at that hour. Whatever. So I'm at the cafe at the gate and there's a group of young Icelandic schoolgirls giggling and carrying on. Then another one of them joins the group and I see she is sucking on a lollipop that can only be described as, well, excuse my french but, a large black dildo. I am so not joking and have the images to prove it. I almost screamed when I saw it and was trying to be subtle while photographing it but then just said fuck it. If anyone were to ask me what the hell I was doing all I would have to do is point at the damn thing and they'd understand. And probably pull out their camera too. The thing is a monster. How any candy company could actually persuade a shop to sell this thing...

I mean, COME ON!

And this was inside a 13 year old girls mouth...while she's walking around the airport!

So I arrive in Bari and true to southern italian form the driver is nowhere in sight. A few phone text messages and I find out "He'll be there-a any minuta!" 45 minutes later some guy pulls up and takes my bag without saying anything but Mavu! Mavu! which is the club I'm supposed to play at. Fine, I know this is how they roll so it's hard to get upset. Well, it's easy to get upset but pointless. W e go to the hotel and I slam down for a good 7 hours. The next day I spend wandering around the hotel which would be great if it were summer but in the winter it's a bit grim...and scary. Here's the view from the pool deck...

At night I am picked up out of the blue by some other guy, Angelo. He just shows up at the hotel at 10 and says let's go, dinner at the club. Okaaaay, a call would have been nice but hey it's the south. We head off to the club with a quick pitstop at Angelo's house so he can roll a fattie and get moved in the car on the way to Mavu. A quick 20 minutes and up a dark almost dirt driveway and we arrive at the club. As I mentioned it looks really cool and we sit and eat dinner in the tent and are treated to a divine show by these guys...

Oh yes dear readers, the Italian Bee Gee's. That is their name. A full on cover band. For an hour we are given an interesting, yet unimaginative, interpretation of the songbook of the 3 brothers from Oz. Mind you the outfits are not electric they are just white satin reflecting the light. I am seated at a table with no one who works at the club and who barely know the promoter. One out of the 4 of them speaks a little english but his hot girfriend and I sort out a friendship through the international language of smoking. This is a pic of them...

At 3am it's time for me to go on. The club is wall to wall guineas and I throw down a thumping electro set that goes over much better than I'd thought it would. I find Italians to be really good audiences cause they will dance to anything they think has a good beat or killer sound. They don't wait for the tracks they know to enjoy themselves. Much appreciated.

Now, around 5:45am the club is winding down and I'm playing my last song. Angelo, who drove me to the club, is practically falling down drunk. Throughout my set he's been warbling on the mic, "moosica, moosica, moosica...". Not sure what he means. Oh well, the south. So I ask him who's taking me back to the hotel and he says "I am." Bursting out laughing I tell him I am not getting in his car and neither should he. He swears he is fine (I know he's not), and I swear I need a taxi (which I don't get- stupid stupid me). We get in his car and I am literally texting people saying I may not make it through this. Several near collisions and a close encounter with some trees lining the road and I realize this guy doesn't know where he's going. He's so shitfaced he can't remember where he picked me up 7 hours earlier; and it's near his house! Here's what it's like- this is the guy that picked me up at 9:30...

And this is the guy that drove me home at 6am...

Finally he pulls into a cafe and tells me to hang on a second. He runs inside for a minute then comes back out waving me to come in. WTF? So I go in and he's ordered coffee and wants me to sit and have a coffee with him. My head is about to explode. By now it is 7am, I have 2 hours until I am being picked up at the hotel to drive 3 hours to the Naples airport to fly to Geneva for my next job. I walk outside and explode at him. Anyone that knows me knows that I am the last to throw a fit, but I just lost it on this guy. He agrees to not finish his coffe and then at snail's pace drives me back to the hotel that he mysteriously knows how to get to now. I have 1 hour to sleep. Oh the south.

DISCLAIMER: Ok just in case anyone reading this is from the south of Italy and getting their panties in a wad I want you to know that I have nothing against southern Italy. However, in the world of nightlife they are notoriously disorganized. It is not just something I am making up. I had been told about it and have experienced it firsthand on several occasions.

At 2pm I blissfully board the flight to Geneva not having slept in the car. I nod out for the quick ride and arrive in Geneva met by a charming guy named Nicolas and we hop a train for Lausanne where the club is. It's a beautiful ride along the Lake and I try to grab a scenic photo but every time the camera comes out it's buildings, buildings, trees, trees, trees, buildings, etc... Lausanne is just 30 mins by train and soon I am in my hotel room grabbing as much sleep as possible before dinner. 2 hours.

I get to the club around 9:30 and there's a staff dinner with drags, gogos, promoters, friends, and other djs. I meet the dj who is playing the main floor with me, a frenchman named Antoine. Excuse me, a crazy silver-eyed hunky frenchman named Antoine. Check out the color of those babies...

And then there's Luca, the long lost twin of Miss Ginger...

And this lady who is like the Irene of Jungle (that's the name of the party)...

Here's the girls gettin ready...

....

Roberto does "What You Waiting For?"...

This is the view from my booth...

The party is fierce and I get to play for a room full of sweaty men. This is kind of a novelty for me since most of my jobs over here are at straight places. This is like one of the biggest gay parties in Switzerland (I know, I know but still) and the crowd is a fab mixture of muscles, snakes, women, men, shirtless, bear, you name it. And they don't all seem to be drugfucked which is refreshing. After my set I head up to the pop/disco lounge to hear Nicolas and Luca play ping pong style (1 track per dj back and forth). They are rocking it with the biggest moment being "I've Had the Time of My Life" from Dirty Dancing. I know, barf, but when you have a room of 300 people going absolutely bonkers singing the chorus I have to admit it takes on a whole other effect. I don't know how to express it other than true jubilation. Everyone was so happy and having (the time of their life?) the best time I too got caught up in it. I was thinking how the weekend had been a mixture of ups and downs and exhaustion and inebriation and looking around at this room full of strangers I see that universal expression of "I can't believe how much fun life is". It was just a really cool moment.

And I got to make out with this guy...

You are what the Italians call (I believe ) "puta". Stop making us jealous befoe I post pics of you in a telling flesh-tomed bodysuit from "Click & Drag"!

Actually when I called Angelo's boss to have her yell at him about not knowing where my hotel was she got on the phone with him and I could hear him calling me a "drag queen" over and over. I assume he meant drama queen. Thing is, it became rather apparent over the evening that Angelo was a little light in the loafers himself. BAH!

Re: flesh colored body stocking....it's not me it's photoshop. I'll cry Kristin Davis. Oh wait.

Saved by the Swiss. So compulsively prompt, organized, efficient, obsessively on, and sooo middleclass, - its the German/French thing- they need to have as much 'time of thier life' as possible. Be glad you didn't have to gig in Ticino someplace, like Locarno, then it would be the Italian mess again. Its a chuckle sometimes how Europeans seem to live up to their stereotypes.

As for the car ride, I think someone in the industry needs to market a kind of life preserver/body armor for DJs specifically for these drunken-host-airportshuttles. No one here likes to think of Pickles getting turned into relish.

Pickles, your blog is so much more engaging than, let's say, another fake press release from Michael Lucas. Oh, the wham-bam-thank-you-glam path you're on, sister. For reals.

Oh please...
we've all made out that with that guy.

I'm in San Francisco with the wife.
Doing a show with Joey Arias tomorrow so will probably have similar pics.

And speaking of wives...
your ex is on her way to Barcelona to visit you. Get ready for trouble.

My wife is yelling at me to come (and we all know not to make the Empress wait) And there is no smoking in the hotel so I REALLY better get off the lap top quick.
I'll read your blog later.
(I just looked at the pics)

Note to empress/ You were in my dream last night at a club in SF and you tripped and fell and broke your ankle. Please be careful. It's just a dream hon but you never know.

oh my gay gash!
sister you are really living it up!!!!
i wish i could come along for some of the ride.

you mentioned "snakes."
do the boarders know that code?

loving you so much.
missing you more!!!!

Oh right, FYI "snakes" is our answer to the ever-growing and complicated culture of "bears". Snakes are thin and wiry and almost hairless. We have snake volleyball, snake retreats, snakenight at bars.

Welcome home Texxx! Glad you're back. How was your fierce sail trip??? Wanna hear about it. Pull any boat trade?

Um , rewind.....who is that man you 'made out' with? D E T A I L S!

How is it I'm missing this trip? Im in need of being the DJ's bitch!!!

Im loving all these posts! I can only imagine what is not being written about.


X

sail trip was VERY white woman,
VERY riche, VERY straight...
it's a trip to be taken with a limitless budget.
don't ask how i got there.

not another faggot ANYWHERE.
so...
didn't pull trade, but got some shade.
last night out we all dressed as pirates - i looked FIERCE!! - and i saw some a-hole's doing the limp wrist motion and talking about me.
my sister had to get me out of there before i pushed one of them over the railing into the water.
was fantasizing of a pirate brawl (a la saloon night in portland - remember dadz and momz??!?)
but alas, 'twas not to be.

will also just say that living on a boat
with ten people for ten daze is challenging
no matter how lovely they are. yet no love was lost in this group. we're all still friends!

if i did it again it would be in the mediterranean where we could hit the french riviera, italy, and/or greek islands.
at least there i would see some fellow fagz.

That's good you all made it out still friends and it didn't became the remake of 10 Little Indians.

Here with Justin and Nathan getting ready to do a tranny bar crawl tonight with the horses. Yesterday we wnt to the Picasso museum and Sagrada Familia (sand drip church). Today we took the train to Figueres to Dali's museum/teatro. I have to say I was a tad underwhelmed. SOme of the art was fierce but it wasn't hung well (stop snickering!). Lighting was bad and there was no rhyme or reason. Perhaps they intended it to be that way but that combined with all the groups of high school tours sort of did my head in. The decorated rooms were better than the paintings I thought. There's also a slight smell of manure everywhere and, since I'm not travelling with Jackie Bigalow, that seemed odd. It's been great having home faces around and I think I've convinced them how wonderful Barcelona is.

I hate to say it Boo, but you really should have gone into debt (further...BAH!) and bought a ticket. It's not touching the void sweetie, but it's just as fun. And way more crowned heads you don't have to see through ski pants.

Yeah I made out with that guy. And he was dressed like a GUY if you can believe it.

So the ex-wife and her new wife are sleeping in so I thought I'd do a little update while I have my afternoon cuppa. I left off previously about to embark on a tranny bar crawl with my friend Reuben. So we go to meet Reuben who is at his friend's apt for a birthday party. He says, "They are a bit like the get-along-gang so just come scoop me up and we'll go." Love her. Don't know what the get-along-gang is but somehow I understand. One drink at the party and we pile into a taxi to our first stop, a bar called La Bata. I have been dying to go to this place because I came here 3 years ago with Texxx on one of my first trips to BCN. It's a shitty hole in the wall bar with great music, hustlers, faeries, punks, and cool chicks. Often at the door someone will peek through before they let you in to make sure it is not the accost of the Lacoste. Nathan and I are featuring suspenders and Justin is giving fierce face. People are kinda gagging, very "Who just walked in?" The place is packed and it's so narrow you are either standing at the bar or you are against the wall. We shuffle along the wall to the back where fortunately a big group has just vacated the back salon. Ok so salon is way too fancy a word to describe it, it's just a room witha fluourescent light and some wood chairs and a table with a hubcap ashtray. Get the picture? This place is the BCN version of say the Cock or Phoenix. As we sit down to drink and smoke (INSIDE!) a mulleted young faerie from Portugal sits with us and looking at Justin his jaw drops. He says almost joking, "I loved you in your movie Shortbus." All of us are a bit surprised and Justin thanks him at which point the kid flips out screaming "I was not serious, is it really you? What the fuck are you doing here? Oh my god you're fabulous what are you doing here?".

I forgot to post my pics from our Dali house excursion. Here you go, the front...

And...

Justin...

Mae West sculpture...

So we adopt this portuguese faerie for the rest of the night as he takes us around the Raval (district of BCN that's like the L.E.S.) trying to get into squatter's after hours. But no one seems to be answering the door at either place we try. Oh well, no worries cause we end up hanging out in an alley outside some club just drinking beers and smoking hash with the sharp smell of piss in the air. Justin has fallen in love with Barcelona by this time. Next day....do nothing but sleep and eat. Tonight we're going back out on the tranny crawl. Who knows....

You are KILLING us with your blog!
It's the talk of the town.
I don't even know where to begin.
Yes I do...
That bitch Justin is wearing MY scarf that Todd Thomas made exclusively for ME!!!!!


Please tell her to take it off.

In fact, it has already been published on a very influential fashion blog.

Diane Pernet Party

So tell her to take it off.

OK, she had the hair first...
I'll give her that.

Oh please daddy, "talk of the town"? That means you and hattie just make fun of me at tea time at Rapture. And I am there in spirit!

No...
There are a lot more people making fun of you at Rapture than just Hattie and I.
You are "big people" now.
Lots of people laugh at you.
I'm very proud.

Well I packed up the ex and her new and shipped them off to Paris to join the Big Art group for their show there. Now I'm just cleaning the hotel before my friend Derek arrives. We've got a big weekend coming up with lots of brits flying in as well as purple pants. Moer later...

Alright so where were we? Oh right, ex wife gone, Del arrives...

Well, last Thursday my friend Del arrives from NYC and thus begins a weekend of booze, boys, and bailar-ing. Also in town was Mykl (aka Purple Pants), Riccardo, 5 of his Italian friends, Jaynie, her gf Helen so now that everyone has left I'd like to climb into a cave and sleep for 3 days. It was a fab weekend beginning with Thursday night going to this cute party called Boombox at the Apollo. It is sort of Barcelona's answer to the Misshapes. Me and Reuben were definitely the oldest people there by 5 years. But you know it's good to be around that young innocent energy. Hopefully we can suck up some of their life force to be used at a later date. Friday night Del and I djed in the Pop Bar at Razzmatazz. The Pop Bar is just as it sounds, anything goes musically. So we composed a playlist of all our guilty pleasures and some fierce stuff as well. The crowd seemed to really enjoy it although there were a few "Huh???" moments, I must confess. Let's just say playing the Bad Boy remix of "Fantasy" by Mariah Carey in the Pop Bar does not have the same effect as playing it for 6 strippers at the Pussycat Lounge. But hey, nothing ventured nothing gained. Here's a few pics from the night. They're a bit blurry because the flash on my camera is pretty offensive so I hate to use it.

Jaynie and Helen

The Girls: Riccardo, Keyan, Mykl, and the ghost of Jakob

Me and Del in the Dj Booth. If only you could see our pupils, BAH!

ANd I forgot to tell you, the most amazing thing happened when I walked into the Pop Bar to start the night. Look who showed up out of the blue...

You may remember him from such clubs as Jungle in Lausanne.

Is it Justin Timberlake?

Close Daddy. Have yet to see the trousersnake. In fact, I've seen more of his flesh on his myspace than in real life. Getting a bit frustrating. We've been spending the past 3 afternoons together and he seems to like me. It's interesting because I speak french to him and he speaks english to me. But I still don't know how to explain "classic whore" to him in french. I mean, whoever heard of dating someone before you had sex???

Maybe you should just say... Comme CoCo Chanel?

Maybe he's a chubby chaser.

Just start to grope for what ever got lost in translation.

Good advice. Going dancing with him now before I have to get on a plane. He's got 3.5 hours to make it happen....

Ok so frenchie was super cute and made up for all previous non action dates.

HOWEVER my trip really went pear-shaped. I got on the flight and had everything under control (or so I thought). I arrived 14 hours later in Sao Paolo only to have customs tell me I needed a visa, an actual piece of paper (sweetie). Now, having done a bit of travelling I had made sure to check that all paperwork was sorted before I left spain and I was assured everything was in order. But border patrol was not featuring it so they literally stuck me on the next flight BACK to Spain (via Amsterdam, and no I didn't get any puff puff puff time there). ANd on the way back KLM lost my bag. Hopefully it will turn up by tomorrow. I'm actually not as veklempt (sp?) as one would think after such an ordeal. One reason being that I was paid in full before leaving spain so at least I didn't lose the money for the gig but this was such an important job in my mind. I mean it's Pacha in Brasil. I know we joke about their postings but for me this was gonna open the doors to play all over South America. Maybe that can still happen but talk about bursting your bubble! One good thing to come out of this mess is that I get 2 more nights with frenchie. Always look on the bright side....

Nightmare sweetie.

But I'm glad Frenchie is finally giving you some Ooh La La.

I almost forgot, here's my picture from Brasil...

Well it's getting down to the final days of my trip here en Espagne. Last week I got a bit depressed but now I'm just excited to get home and see everyone and then in 2 months hopefully return to Barcelona in my new apartment that I'll share with Keyan. Today he and I are going to look at a few places. "Any little rat-hole on 10th Ave..." is my apt hunting motto but Keyan has standards. He he he.

This past weekend I popped up to London to visit some friends and do some record shopping. I got to go to Duckie (my fave London party at the Vauxhall Tavern) where Dina Martina was the performer. I had never seen her before and she was quite amazing and had the crowd in her hands. She started with a version of "Devil Went Down To Georgie" as if it were being done by Dianne Weist. And then a sick medley of Greatest Love of ALl/You Spin Me Round which I believe is floating around on youtube.

At 1:30 I bid adieu to the Duckie gals and hoppped over the road to Fire to meet, yes you guessed it, Frenchie! He just so happened to be in London for one night the weekend I was there. Odd, huh? Well, always a glutton for punishment I had to go meet him at one of the most drug-fucked parties I've ever been to. Fire is a whole lotta fun....once or twice a year. I don't know how those queens do it every week, and a lot of em aint younger than me. AT 5:30am I scraped myself off the dancefloor kissed Frenchie goodbye and headed home to sleep before going back to BCN. Here are some pics....

The Door at Duckie...

And look who also turned up in London this weekend thanks to Victoria's Secret. Yes, everybody's favorite scarf designer Todd Thomas (left) and his friend Neil!

Here's Dina Martina, although it's a shitty picture she really doesn't look any prettier in person.

And last but not least the gorgeousness that is the Reader's Wives. They are the dj's at Duckie and are probably my 2 favorite londoners ever.

The weekend before this past one I had a small house party so I'll just post a few pics from that. Here is my cutie-pie friend Jose who spilled his drink and insisted on getting the mop.

Here's the gaggle of gays I hang with. My face is blurred out cause I had a "healing brush" misshap. Ooops....SARRY!

Wait a minute - you're gay?!?! Now I've heard everything!

That is the gayest picture I've ever seen.
BTW
I've had that same "accident" with the healing brush.

I LOVE Dina Martina.
Did you catch the camel toe?

I also love your pics from Brazil.
Bah!

Can't wait to hear you spin again.
You must be getting a little better by now.

SJ/ You are having the fun life. I love my Dina Martina, she is headed here at the end of May to stay until September. We are very attached to her here.

Oh Daddy I am dying. I haven't played in 3 weeks (thanks Brazil!) and I'm jumping out of my skin. I had to have a party on Saturday just so I could play music for some people. Thank God I have one more gig before I leave to come back to NYC on Sunday night. But I'm gettting a little ahead of myself I think.

When I got back from London, Keyan and I switched into emergency find an apt mode. He desperately wants out of his current living situation and I just need to secure a place for when I come back in July. We've found a few places but nothing is signed yet. It's amazing to see the difference between apt hunting here and in NYC. Here you can get 4 bedrooms with a terrace for about 1200 euros ($1800). But of course you have to factor in that they generally make less $$ per month. Still, I'm gagging at what is available. Hopefully we'll find something this week.

Thursday I met up with Jakob (and his piece du jour Augusto-a smokin' Guatemalan with Ricky Ricardo hair), Keyan and Reuben for a drink at a fab bar called Penultima. It's another mixed queer artist hangout that is not your typical european gay bar. Definitely one of my new fave spots. It's in the Raval district which is like the East Village with more Arabs. Or as Messy Bonnie would say AY-rabs. Reuben and I finished the night chasing a couple boys to Apolo for their indie/gay night. Well, I was chasing them.

Friday was spent with an ice pack on my head and bonbons at my fingertips. Just kidding. Friday night was a party for this fab quarterly mag/art book called LookdeBook which I may have mentioned at the very beginning of this whole blahg. It is a really beautifully done collection of art by local and foreign artists. And zero advertisements. Oh wait, sorry they had one in the last issue. Check out their website, there's some fantastic images. LookdeBook

So a bunch of us get dolled up cause it now seems to be a tradition for the mag's issue release party. They put so much time and effort into it and always throw an interesting party so we try to show a little effort as well. Nothing crazy, but you know....nice. Anyway, for this issue they rented one of the stalls in La Boquerria which is a huge meat and fish market off Las Ramblas. Lots of slabs of beef and upside down ducks hanging around. They cleared the meat out of the display cases and just filled them with the new issue and hung them all around as well. It looked really great. Of course I didn't have my camera but Jakob is supposed to email me pics which I'll post. After that some dinner and a little dancing but it was early to bed to prepare for my Disco Tea Patio Party on Sat.

Since this has been unbearably text heavy here's some pics from the Tea Dance at mi casa.

It began innocently like this...

Then became a bit more like this...

And this.... (that's Harald the Norwegian) who came with his friend Ostein and brought badminton rackets.

Oops I forgot to menton that I seriously spiked the punch...

So the day progressed more to wards this...

And this...

Then Clifton (DJ Nita's roommate) shows up and things turn into this...