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Welcome My name is Tess. I'm a 9-5 New Yorker and traveler. My hobbies include destroying suitcases, photo-bombing tourists in Times Square, and taking long romantic ADHD walks around the globe. Welcome!

Apr 9, 2012

How The 80s' Ruined My Pants





Ever been to one of those party's where you find yourself busting a slob on some random wanker only to find out it's the guy who threw the party and now your face is plastered on his website. Well I wouldn't know but if I did it would look something like this **

Before you judge that person just be forewarned that any drink named after a Prince Song served in a big, clear plastic cup can have repercussions - especially if you knock em back like Kool-aid. (It looked like Grape Drink to me ... her)


Andy Troy host of Culture Club's 80's retro party and that girl with the plastic cup of purple stuff. 



If you have ever turned on the radio and been thoroughly disgusted for what passes as "Good Music", then you are probably old as sh*t or you came of age in the 80s'. First, stop all your bloodclot-complaining. Because all that ish is still available on You Tube or whatever you dust bunnies listen to your bygone era music on.  Next, gather up a bunch of co-workers and take your old hating asses to New York City's Culture Club and relive your glory days.

I grew up on the cusp, so I took my crew of degenerates to the free party and once there I headed to the bar where I found a drink list that paid homage to 80s' monikers like the Rubic's Cube where the ingredients said very simply "you figure it out" or the Like a Virgin and the Ronald Reagan.

Anyway by the third cup of Purple Rain I was basically doing the Wop to Journey's Don't Stop Believing with two guys in gym shorts, knee-hi sweat socks and headbands.  Yea I danced with all the misfits, ugly dudes, and about 6 girls that looked like Madonna circa 1987 ( think Lucky star video.) while Olivia Newton John got physical on a video in the background.


I strongley believe that they've been looking for a reason to wear these outfits.

Then the D.J threw on Johnny Kemp's Just Got Paid and dammit you couldn't tell anyone in the club that they didn't just get paid! Finally by the last fifteen minutes I was allegedly fluent in Spanish ..or at least that's what he said. And begging the DJ to play "Jingling Baby"  It was euphoric minus the acid smiley faces.

 You see today's music sucks ass lacks the uptempo and booty-sweat beats that the 80s' and 90s' were churning out like hot cakes! When the British invasion  bands pumped out top 100 hits and rock bands were consuming  respectable amounts of illegal barbiturates  that reflected positively in the quality of their music. Everybody was making music you could actually dance to.

So instead of complaining on social media forums where nobody gives a flying-fudge but you, then grab that flammable aqua-net hairspray (Italian Jersey girls - you know what it is) pull out those acid washed jeans that smell like a janitor's ass-crack (Trish I know you still have them) And go to the free party!

Oh and as far as my pants go - well, we will not speak ill of the dead-shredded-crotch torn-cheap denim that helped recreate a decade of memories.