mandatory phone check (Daniel Nardicio's Underwear Party - Western Beef)

I'd never done a Daniel Nardicio party in The City. And the one I did on Fire Island with SoHo Crush, I don't remember much of. But with the Western Beef theme, I knew I HAD to attend (cowboy boots!).

Calipornia and I met up at his place to pre-game. Blink, who had been drinking since 1:30 in the afternoon, showed up a bit after I arrived. It had been a while since I'd heard from her, but I figured she’d never turn down an opportunity to prance around nearly naked. Oh, and the Longhorn Contest? She was all about that.

image from prospect.org

Calipornia: "My friend's gonna come by with his roommate."

Me: "Is the roommate cute?"

Cali: "I think he might be kinda cute."

Me: "Well, kinda-cute is better than hot-as-hell because hot-as-hell likes to think he doesn't try in bed. Kinda-cute makes sure he's remembered. What about your friend? Any chance he's uptight? I kinda have this thing about uptight guys letting loose lately."

Cali: "Oh, let him tell you about the last Nardicio party he went to when he gets here. You'll see how uptight he is."

Turns out Calipornia's friend was meeting the roommate at the venue. After making him a cocktail, Calipornia nudged his friend to tell the story about the last party.

"It was like 3:30 in the morning, I think, and they hadn't had the contest they'd advertised. I was complaining to this guy next to me like, 'Yeah, I was really looking forward to it, and it sucks that they haven't had it yet.' Turns out it was Daniel Nardicio that I was talking to. So he said he'd give me $50 to ejaculate onto a picture of Sarah Palin. I had already been hard for like 4 hours, and mostly everybody had their dicks out anyway..."

image from bushwickbk.com

Meanwhile, I'd spent the previous night at Grrber's. For some reason, he only had one key to his place. I left later than he, so I locked up his apartment. He said he'd pick it up during the day, but he'd forgotten. I was downtown at a show (Fuerza Bruta, very cool) while he was at dinner in Chelsea, and we didn't make contact then. So I suggested he come to Calipornia's for a drink. He sounded pretty fucked up when he picked up the phone.

Me: "We have to meet some people at this party at midnight, so take a cab. We're leaving here in 20 for the East Village... Like Ave C... Yes, I texted you his address... Check your texts, Grrber."

20 minutes later, Calipornia's friend went to an ATM. I had tried to call Grrber to see if he was a lost cause. No answer. I was heated because he was holding all of us up, but Cali's friend said his roommate was running late. I texted Grrber the address of the party and said fuck it.

Then I got a text from Bottomless Pitt:

Mad wasn't even the word. Once we arrived and established where exactly the party was (very low key entrance), I grabbed another cab over to Pieces. The following exchange with Urban Sprawl happened just before and just after I grabbed the cab.

Then Calipornia texted me as I was having the cabbie circle back to the E.vil. Apparently, they weren't letting Blink (stumbling drunk) into the party.

I looked up Blink's address in my phone and texted it. Then I sent an angry text to Grrber on the way back to the party. At this point, I was actually glad about the mandatory phone check for the party. Did I mention that I'd had to pee since 34th St?!

Calipornia was just putting Blink in a cab when I got back to the E.vil: "She couldn't remember her address." Surprise surprise.

image from blog.sagar.org

Both of us were about to pee our pants, so we checked our clothes as quickly as possible and crossed the bar, standing in separate lines for the one-toilet bathrooms. "We're cross-firing. Whoever gets in first pulls the other one in." I make this suggestion all the time, but Calipornia's the only one who's been slutty hung rational enough to take me up on it.

When we came out, Cali's friend introduced us to his twinky, cute roommate who apparently dances at Rush. Within 2 minutes, Calipornia had bought drinks for both of them.

After getting myself a drink, I finally got a chance to take in the scene. There were huge bales of hay, and I was quite disappointed to see the signs: "No smoking near the hay." How about no smoking period.

As I checked out the naked go-goes on the bar (all very well hung and in shape), I noticed a very disturbing decoration. There were nooses hanging from the ceiling over the bar. Nooses. I guess they were supposed to be lassos, but they definitely didn't look very wrangler-like (maybe having them wrapped up rather than hanging from the ceiling would have conveyed the correct image). One of the go-goes won the clever award for putting his penis into the loop of one of the nooses.

Calipornia: "Wow, he's hung." Nudge, nudge, indeed.

image from zazzle.com

There were guys of all body types there, all in their various types of underwear. Or not. As you could imagine, it was all quite cruisey. An older Latin guy with a hot body and cute underwear was eyeing me but never made a move. 15 minutes later, I watched him get pounded by an inked muscle queen with an 8-gague prince albert. They were a small part of the ongoing exhibition of sexual acts that took place in the booths along the wall across from the bar.

I had wandered around and ended up back at the front of the bar near where I'd left Calipornia and the go-go making out and playing whoever-gets-a-finger-in-first-gets-to-top. They'd taken a break from their game, and somebody was giving a blow job right near them.

Calipornia (jokingly): "Well, that looks like fun!"

Go-go (handing his drink over): "Hold this."

Cali gave the kid a look, but he took the drink. As soon as his hands were free, the kid disappeared from my field of vision. Calipornia's face went from quizzical to shock to self-congratulation in about 2 seconds.

image from funnypicturefunnyphoto.com

Cali: "Feel free to write about this wherever you want!"

Me: "So let it be done; so let it be written!"

I quickly left my friend to get taken care of and checked out the back room of the bar, which was separated but not closed off. There was much more to see back there (including a couple of people who weren't exactly strangers), but I, of course, struck up a conversation with a small-framed yet beautifully toned Latin-looking guy in the cutest underwear.

He wasbasically observing just like I was. As we exchanged commentary, it became apparent that he was neither a dumbass nor a cunt. And he was cute. It took me about 20 minutes to grab the back of his head and start making out with him.

Did I mention cabs uptown aren't that expensive if you split them? Yeah.

The next day (guess who sent this one):

"BUT, on a scale of 1-10, I'd say we did really well!" -D. Nardicio

Click here to check out the first Nardicio underwear party I went to (though I didn't remember much).

Got a question for the author? Click here to ask anonymously.

Note: you may find the "Topics of Discussion" on the right and the Cast of Characters to be of help in navigating this blog.