Do you believe in Magic?
Well, I hope you do, otherwise you will think this post is entirely created of fabricated nonsense, and i assure you it is not. Fabricated, at least. Nonsense...iffy.
Blah blah blah, we went to Magic, Pool, and Project. Blah blah blah, saw mad gear, blah blah mad people blogged it blah blah parties, blah, blah this is what I have to report. (I haven't posted in forever, some comeback, eh?)
Clouds are mad pretty.
You saw all the cool cats who were at magic like, here and like, here and like, here and like, here so here's what happens when you're like me at magic, and you're not an efffin streetwear star, and you're vaguely anti-social.
You get by.
By some stroke of luck, and by luck I mean Maggie goosing Jedi (ill ny dj y'all) on line for the hotel shuttle buses, we wound up in Russell Simmons' private suite at the Wynn hotel for a party for his new Atman line, on some "I'm with the DJ" ish.
I gotta say it, the view was slamboni.
After a hot while, Maggie and I were all like, "hot remix Jedi, but fuck this yoga shit"
and went to the puma suite at the hard rock.
If I don't eventually get those kicks with the rainbow straps, I might actually die.
Sneak tipping was followed by the official Pool party, a performance by Jean Grae, and Talib Kweli at the House of Blues, sponsored by Beautiful/Decay and Warner Bros. By another stroke of good fortune and because I befriend the right people when I'm not all stank-faced and anti-social, I moonlit as an important people and got backstage.
artist?! ha!
Talib whipped out some of that good ole "Definition" shit, and I had the great idea to whip out my camera and capture a bit of that magic.
Somewhere along the way, JP and I ran into the Boo Yaa T.R.I.B.E.
and for every person who yelled "LANCE IS GAY!" from afar upon seeing my vintage Backstreet Boys t-shirt, yeah, I knew that as soon as immediately, the first time I ever ever saw him, and homeo is in *nsync. Tighten up your "boybands of the past" game. Now I'm just waiting for Howie to come out.
UndrCrwn had some fly cutouts to stick your face in, so JP and I had some 2 dimensional fun with cameras. My favorite part was that there were also mannequin parts lying around, so I had no logical choice but to scratch Biggie's balls, may they otherwise rest in peace.
Speaking of mannequins, a) love that movie, what happened to Meshach Taylor? and b) from the false eyelashes to the freakishly joyous mouths, these mannequin faces I saw on my journey home frighten me.
So yeah, that's my tradeshow report. I'd stroke your curious and fiendish minds with tales and in-depth description of all the brand madhottery, but I missed my flight connection, my luggage got lost so I don't have my linesheets, and that's really not my style. Sue me.
Blah blah blah, we went to Magic, Pool, and Project. Blah blah blah, saw mad gear, blah blah mad people blogged it blah blah parties, blah, blah this is what I have to report. (I haven't posted in forever, some comeback, eh?)
Clouds are mad pretty.
You saw all the cool cats who were at magic like, here and like, here and like, here and like, here so here's what happens when you're like me at magic, and you're not an efffin streetwear star, and you're vaguely anti-social.
You get by.
By some stroke of luck, and by luck I mean Maggie goosing Jedi (ill ny dj y'all) on line for the hotel shuttle buses, we wound up in Russell Simmons' private suite at the Wynn hotel for a party for his new Atman line, on some "I'm with the DJ" ish.
I gotta say it, the view was slamboni.
After a hot while, Maggie and I were all like, "hot remix Jedi, but fuck this yoga shit"
and went to the puma suite at the hard rock.
If I don't eventually get those kicks with the rainbow straps, I might actually die.
Sneak tipping was followed by the official Pool party, a performance by Jean Grae, and Talib Kweli at the House of Blues, sponsored by Beautiful/Decay and Warner Bros. By another stroke of good fortune and because I befriend the right people when I'm not all stank-faced and anti-social, I moonlit as an important people and got backstage.
artist?! ha!
Talib whipped out some of that good ole "Definition" shit, and I had the great idea to whip out my camera and capture a bit of that magic.
Somewhere along the way, JP and I ran into the Boo Yaa T.R.I.B.E.
and for every person who yelled "LANCE IS GAY!" from afar upon seeing my vintage Backstreet Boys t-shirt, yeah, I knew that as soon as immediately, the first time I ever ever saw him, and homeo is in *nsync. Tighten up your "boybands of the past" game. Now I'm just waiting for Howie to come out.
UndrCrwn had some fly cutouts to stick your face in, so JP and I had some 2 dimensional fun with cameras. My favorite part was that there were also mannequin parts lying around, so I had no logical choice but to scratch Biggie's balls, may they otherwise rest in peace.
Speaking of mannequins, a) love that movie, what happened to Meshach Taylor? and b) from the false eyelashes to the freakishly joyous mouths, these mannequin faces I saw on my journey home frighten me.
So yeah, that's my tradeshow report. I'd stroke your curious and fiendish minds with tales and in-depth description of all the brand madhottery, but I missed my flight connection, my luggage got lost so I don't have my linesheets, and that's really not my style. Sue me.
posted by Kangsta! at 1:12 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home