My Thursday evening was full of Calloway and gin and whiskey and a German man-boy and Satan and Satan’s identical half-brother and his comically oversized fist and an enormous purple dildo and a small purple buttplug and a singing dead witch and also quite a bit of jazz.
I mean, I don’t want to say I told you so, but I definitely did tell you so.
You have one more chance tomorrow night to experience Calloway’s Salon, and I strongly recommend that you do so.
Scenes from Calloway’s Salon, featuring Monty, Hans the man-boy, and Detective Cocaine.
A few more pics of Calloway’s Salon from my friend Voon Wai.
Look how happy I am! And with good reason.
Number 55 had one of the youngest, most obnoxious crowds I’ve ever seen, but it also had this.
Do you want to spend one minute with Calloway? Of course you do.
Last night was pretty much a perfect New York evening, the kind that makes me happier than I can say with my life as it is right now. And I don’t think there’s a better way to spend the evening of the 4th than at a picnic on the roof of the McKittrick, watching fireworks with friends & fellow drunks.
