GOOD TIMES: LOVESEXY

Instead of doing a proper Michael Jackson night at our Wednesday Good Times party at Eastern Bloc (we'll get there, and it'll include Rebbie, LaToya and Jermaine), we paid tribute last week to another profilic and petite artist known as Prince, as well as his spin-off projects a.k.a. Vanity and Apollonia.


Bear season was in full-effect thanks to Mikey (left) and his new cub mate.


Party men! (the purple party mix)


Dude on the right has a real good grip on his friend's 'fro and is so not letting go after this picture was taken.


Nothing says Nasty Girl better than a white leather anything with fringe.


Hey cookies! Andrew (left) brought by this hairburner hunk and woo-ed him with our 11-1130pm open vodka bar and then left for another destination known as Erotic City.


Disco naps will work even better for next week, when the creature of the night Michael T. guests for disco divas at Good Times delirium.


Invoking the spirits of Wendy and Lisa.


Your lovesexy DJ (left) and photographer (right), hugging a burka-clad Linda Simpson.


Linda (left, with Andrew) said her burka was an homage to the late Michael Jackson, who suffered from a skin depigmentation illness known as vitiligo.


I thought she just looked very Iraqi-chich and fabulous, as did everyone else at the party, hence all the posing-with-Linda photos. I mean, when was the last time bartender Darren (left) posed for a pic?


The yumminess that is Peter (left) and Rich. Rich's seven-year strong Snaxx party is headed to Fire Island's Ice Palace this Saturday, where I'll be hangin' after my first underwear party spot for Daniel Nardicio this Friday. Let me know if you wanna come.


Kiss the burka. Rub the burka. Feeeeeeeeeeeel the burka.


Douggie (center) and two dudes, to whom he later proved his sex shooter skills.


GET OFF! (Twenty-three positions in a one night stand.)


Gary gets the prize for wearing a Prince and/or prince-inspired get-up. We also encourage dressing up and or dressing down (aka nudity) here at our Good Times party.


Hot tattooed arm, nice beard, shaved head and Mikey (left) doing unthinkable things outside the frame of the shot.


Kelvira's new friend, whose name I can't remember, probably because Kelvin was slurring or speaking really really really really fast when he said it to me.


The only thing better than the passion captured in this moment is Paul's priceless, horrified face in the background.


Working that Jennifer Beal's flashdance look.


The gravity-defying hairstyles of Tai Chi (left) and Kevie Cee.


An intimate bathroom moment with this summer's hottest cripple, Mr. Marlon H.


Enough denim to these two dry through the Purple Rain aka 1984.


Ecstasy! Ecstsasy! E-E-E-E Ecstasy!


I may have once claimed that Delvin, who's hosting next week's wigs and wieners party with Matt the Baker, had the bestest chin dimple ever. I think Paul (right, with Jarrod, Danny and death metal black tshirt dude) might be giving Delvin a run for his money. CHIN DIMPLE SHOWDOWN!


JC (right) and a glam slam in a striped hoodie.


CREAM! Get on top!


Oh how I love Cameron (right) and the different groups of friends I find him around town with each and every week. A true class act in dapper dress and skinny suspenders.


When standing next to Scotty, our burka celeb suddenly looks like she could fit right in at a Slayer concert. Next week is also Scotty's birthday so bring him some specially enhanced cookies or something to show your appreciation.


Eddie, Michael, Angelo and friend (from left), examining the graffiti bridges outside of Eastern Bloc. Eddie also gets a star for his pretty purple top.


Enrico (left), shortly after he begged me to revert to some Major Lazer.


All seven and we'll watch them fall (ch-ching!). Amongst these seven are some of my oldest friends in New York, and I'm not talking about age even though they're mostly pushing 30 now.


Robert P., intimately explaining that he could never take the place of your man.


Signs of the times.


HOT CREW CUT PLAID ON PLAID ACTION IN THE CORNER. Get it girls!


Andrew (left) and Thomas, crossed out and considering a switch to Jehovah's Witness after hearing the 12 minute version of A Love Bizarre. Hey, it's better than being a born again with Vanity.


A young Robin Byrd, who I plan on stalking on Fire Island for the rest of the summer, since I'm out there every other Friday for this underwear party affair. Did you know Robin Byrd's license plate says 970-Byrd. GENIUS.


Matt on Matt, slow dancing to Prince's original version of Nothing Compares 2 U.


As Tom Green would say, my bum is on the ATM!


Kelvin (left) didn't really talk to my good friend Andrew except to say "your friend has really nice boobs."


You see a gaggle of handsomeness and all I see Danny sucking his thumb.


Is it 3am already?


Yup. Officially 3am, just in case you weren't sure.


Telfar and his hot piece from LA, who we took to the after party and then Telfar took him to the after after party. And then the after after after party, which was pretty much Mr. Black on Saturday.


Voguing House of Spahbah queens say see you next week for Michael T. and Sparber's disco diva dance off.

DAVID BARTON ASTOR PLACE VS. CHELSEA

Checked out and worked out at the new David Barton Gym in Astor Place yesterday on the first day that it opened for business. Here's how it compares to its sister gym over in Chelsea:

ASTOR PLACE
-brand new equipment non-slip finish
-Virgin America lighting hues
-disco ball DJ booth from Happy Valley
-sleeker shower knobs and curtains
-carpeted locker room
-hot straight guys

CHELSEA
-older equipment with a slippery finish
-theatrical muscle-enhancing lighting
-DJ table that overlooks the weight room
-better water pressure
-chill out music in locker room
-hot muscle queens

That's right. DBG snapped up that mega disco ball DJ booth and installed it in one of the spacious areas afforded by the former Barnes & Noble space. I'll be in the booth this Thursday and next Tuesday if you wanna come check it out.

FILE UNDER: GOREGOUS DISCO ALBUM COVERS

WALK LIKE A PENGELENG

Whaaaaaaaat. Jamaica's dancehall answer to Boyz II Men, T.O.K., have gone dun it again with a riff ripped straight from the Bangles' Walk Like an Egyptian.


T.O.K. - Pengeleng

P.S. - Before you fall as deeply in love with T.O.K. as I have, please remember their scathingly homophobic yet oh-so-catchy anthem Chi Chi Man, which probably went to number 1 in Kingston.

BLIND ITEMS

Which incessant-facebook-updater-turned-party-promoter got gloriously bitch slapped last week by a downtown DJ-turned-singer?

Which DJ asked a recent trick to come home with him and then begged him to have sex with his boyfriend while the DJ watched? We hear the trick got weirded out and left in a hurry.

Which king of twink parties has been threatening to expose one of his former party venues for failing to pay employees and DJs?

Which pint-sized party girl (and by girl we mean boy) hangs in the bathroom more than the dance floor most nights of the week and has most recently been knocking boots with an FTM?

GOOD TIMES: SHE'S SO HIGH

This weekly guest DJ thing that's been going on at our Wednesday Good Times party at Eastern Bloc mostly came about because lots of my friends are really amazing DJs who rarely get to show case the breadth of their music collection. Case in point: Nita, last week's guest, whose fantasticness is matched by her love for britpop. Hence another installment of GOOD TIMES BRITPOP PAR-TAY!


Hurricane Jason might not remember the days when Oasis told Blur they hoped Blur would "get AIDS and die," but then again, Jason doesn't always remember much.


The southern belle known as Ricky (right), twisting the melons of Shaquanda Coca Mulatta's better half, known as Andre.


Set me free why don't 'cha babe?


I immediately thought of Sean (left) yesterday while watching the entirety of the Michael Jackson memorial, especially when Jermaine performed. I was like, WHERES PIA ZADORA?


Gettin' brain.


Now that Lady Gaga has made the video of the year with her Paparazzi masterpiece, every Tom, Dick and Harry thinks its cute to reenact it when entering a venue. Where's your Thierry Mugler bodysuit Gary?


Transvision vamps, twangily wigging out.


If you squint your eyes realllllll hard, Nic on the left could totally pass for our good friend Mike three pics below.


Back from the dead! I haven't seen Robbie (center) in ages but apparently he's back on the scene if and when the Smiths are involved.


Kiss them for me. Speaking of which, I'm officially attempting a Siouxsie Sioux night for doorman Scot's birthday at our July 22 wigs and wieners party.


Mike, Ryan and Samson (from left), whose name I've been apparently misspelling for two years now (it's not SamPson). SORRY SAMSON! The P was for perfection (and you know that we are freaks).


Kevin (right), one half of the Blue Man Two, with cheery Stone Roses enthusiast.


The Michael Delucia crew, all born after 1985, meaning Britpop = Spice Girls to them.


Maybe she was covered in jizz?


Gay pride was not the same this year without Bryan's presence (right), though it was ameliorated by a shirtless Demetre (left) atop a Kiehl's firetruck in the parade.


Caliente kisses.


The sweetness that is DJ Adam (right) and his evil, demonically-possessed twin Paul.


There's no question about this one: definitely a dried up jizz spot on Steven's head for surrrre.


Equal opportunists we are, as evidenced by the spazz (lower left) and the hot boy (upper right).


This is how I feel too now that the rain has somewhat subsided.


Good wholesome clean fun, like at this Friday's High Tea party in the Pines, which I'm DJing 7-10pm. Or Saturday at Hugs in Brooklyn. Or Sunday at the Garden of Ono, 630pm - 1230am.


I think for next week's photos, we should only have sexy poses with the Eastern Bloc ATM machine. I'm putting Kelvin on it as soon as he exits the bathroom.


Beers? Really? They must have missed the open vodka bar from 11 - 1130pm, NOW WEEKLY.


And you thought Andre's only talent was dressing in drag. Meanwhile, what's with the friend getting up close and personal?


Garrett, Scott and Joe, getting ready to WALK 4 ME.


Meanwhile, on the outside of the bar, David, Eddie and Danny (from left) made sexy poses and discussed the current stalemate at the New York State assembly. Or something.


One glistening beer! Shining through the rock 'n' roll of Nita's stellar set.


Faris (left) and his harem of handsome men whose names I may or may not have gotten throughout my nightly dose of vodka sodas.


Michael Magnan (right) and friends, whose inspiring Bart Simpson tank inspired me to buy the exact same one for our future DJ sets when we dress like twins (I'm Schwartzenagger, he's Devito).


Jackie (aka Michael, left), who does the best Ja'mie King impressions ever. Now build a bridge and get over it.


The specialest guest DJ, Ms. Nita Aviance (right), who turned it the fuck out with her britpop and brought along New York's number one name is exquisite head gear, Mr. One-Half Nelson (left).


Living the Parklife.


My favorite Michael Magnan expression ever, accompanied by a suggestive sleeve tattoo.


A random assortment of Ukranian brides.


Jonathan (left) and Robbie, giving you Bette Davis Eyes.


Nic (left) and Will, whose tshirts and facial hairs nicely compliment one another.


That 3am half kissyface, half asleep at the bar look.


The other half of the Blue Man Two known as Rob (right), rejoicing that school's out for summer and he now can "socialize" with his pupils.


If you block out that cross on his shirt, the one on the right is total foxiness.


Your DJs for the evening, thanking you for another Britpop installment. Come back next week for my inspired by Prince party. Vanity! Jill Jones! And the purple man himself. xo, Sparber.

PARIS IS BURNING. I MEAN CRYING.

I cried a few times during today's live internet broadcast of the Michael Jackson tribute. I also laughed at the simul-posts going up on facebook as the tributed aired and was especially pleased when former Village People singer Randy Jones posted this pic of him, the Village People and Michael Jackson. With Jane Fonda!


From Randy's facebook: "Twas a benefit for Green/Solar Energy for Jane's husband Tom in LA at the Palladium."

CONFESSIONS OF A TRAVEL WRITER

My Good Times co-DJ, Mr. Jimmy Im, has been busy traveling the world these past few years, all under the guise of "work." Now we'll get to watch his "work" when his reality TV debut airs August 10th on the Travel Channel. It's called Confessions of a Travel Writer and if his blog is any inkling, he'll be boozing, sun bathing and occasionally touring tourist destinations (aka working).

I LOVE THE FUTURE

All I really ever wanted was for video phones to be invented. How marvelous the future is.

PAYING THE PRICE

Despite all the talk of the current economic recession, this weekend was a lesson in who can charge what and get away with it:

1) The long-running megaclub party known as Sundays at Hiro has started charging a $10 entry cover (was previously free).

2) A Jack Daniels and Diet Coke cocktail at Sunday's Vandam party at Greenhouse costs $12. Even more outrageous was the 12 oz. water bottle which costs $6.

3) Entry to the Cock on Sundays still costs $10, though we hear it was $20 (!!!) for last weekend's gay pride festivities.

4) Luckily, there is still Metropolitan Bar Sunday afternoon barbecues, where the burgers, hot dogs, baked beans and potato salad is all free if you grab a drink, and pitchers of beer only cost $8.

Brooklyn it will be in these hard economic times.

I'M A YANKEE DOODLE DANDY

Come party with me this weekend. I'm hosting! Email me for guest list.