We must be doing something right over here at myopenbar.com, because even the Germans love us. And we're a bunch of Jews! I mean, these listings are pretty useless to people who aren't local, right? Must be the guilt, cause some huge German news conglomerate just did a big feature on the site. And now, without further ado, is Google Translate's "English" version of the article. Prepare to schnorrt your pants:

"Drink in vain in New York such one evening in New York can become quite expensive - finally one wants to hold on not only to Glae quiet water. And nevertheless one can carouse in Big Apple strongly, without paying only one cent. Homepage betrays, where one finds the "open Bars". Of Martina Buttler, Pool of broadcasting corporations Hoerfunkstudio New York [caption: Oh you light sea at Broadway! Who would not like to fall itself there into the pleasure!] Who goes drinking one in New York, in any case enough money in the bag should have. Or the Tipps of Seva Granik. He betrays on its homepage, where there is wine, rum, Wodka or Champagner in vain. Began everything, when it was once again broke. "my co-inhabitant and I had times again no coal", remember Seva. Over acquaintance they found to Bars, which spent free drinks. "then constantly our friends called, because they wanted to know, where there which is in vain. And as we no more support on the calls had, we simply everything on homepage packed." Trend to liberality in the meantime earns Seva its rolls with myopenbar.com. And during it well one year ago only five or six open Bars per week found, is it in the meantime to approximately 70 - Bars, which pour out regularly drinks in vain or however Promoaktionen of beverage companies in the house have. Information to the Parties too gotten, is no problem. Promoter or friends send the Machern of the side of references. "stop is always which into New York", white Rebecca Smeyne, which writes for the web page. With tie or naked those Parties are evaluated with weinglaesern. The more weinglaeser, the better the Event. Participates from the tie vent over exhibition openings up to the naked Fete everything. Parties, as variously as New York and its people. "those are people from Downtown", describe Rebecca Smyney the public the public the open Bars, "rather mode-oriented, openly, not conservatively and sexually openly for everything." There is mostly one hour to the "open Bars" long free drinking. Then it costs. That is good for the owners of tavern, because then the hut is full. Who wants to drink itself however further in vain by the night, bar Hopping makes, recommends Seva Granik: "one can make oneself a kind time table and long in vain drink thus the whole night." And Seva schnorrt itself from bar to bar until its dream becomes perhaps once true: a tavern, which spends the whole night drink in vain."

(Note to MOB crew -- Why am I always the one the international press describes as "sexually open for everything?" One of you a-holes is writing the next Scenic-Watch, cause I'm getting a bad rep here. My fucking parents read this site. So embarrassing.)

posted by pinkeye at 1:24 AM   |   7 comments

There's been a lot of speculation lately about the possible evolutions of Scenic's weekly Rated-X party. In last week's listings, I advised readers to catch this joint now, figuring it'll get busted soon. Ever since it found a new home at Scenic back in October, the party photographers have been all over this increasingly nasty thing. Back in November, Nikola (ambrel.net) caught the Christly white cock of Black-Face Jesus, and by New Year's Eve, Merlin Bronques (lastnightsparty.com) was getting some hot gash.

So now what? See for yourself, in myopenbar.com's feature photo gallery from Tod Seelie, whose own mini-empire of brilliant websites can be accessed via everydayilive.com. Tod reports: "The hot body contest might have just crossed over to official sausage-fest status. Out of the ten contestants baring all (or at least most), there was only one female. And while she did receive a spanking, it was no match for the pseudo-gay foursome of youngsters who won big points when one of their girlfriends performed a blowjob on stage. In all honesty, I was more entertained by the tattooed crew upstairs (Jeannie Nitro and friends) as they poured liquor on everybody, knocked each other down, and broke a table. There were also inklings of bridge-n-tunnel infiltration, so you may want to get to this party while the gettin's still good."

B n' T? Pass the graveyard shovel, baby, the Grim Reaper of NYC nightlife hath reared it's ugly head. Sigh.

posted by pinkeye at 2:32 PM   |   3 comments

Currently writing from 33,000 feet above the North Pole, I bring you my latest field research summary of the most remote venue ever to receive mention on myopenbar.com -- mainland China. In the air, I'm enjoying a Mint Sprite and Vodka cocktail courtesy of the well-suited Chinese businessman seated to my left. Mint Sprite -- rare, but delicious like a candy cane. I volunteered the soda and recipe, he threw in the mini bottle of Absolut. Still it's no open bar. Actually I'm in business-class so the bottle would have been free anyway. I was just being friendly with my neighbor.

Back on the ground, I was unsuccessful in my attempts at finding any real open bars, which is just as well since most of the bars in China serve only ass-quality American beer and the clubs with good drinks are cheesy and expensive, even by New York standards. On one popular drinking strip in Chengdu, I witnessed a massive Budweiser delivery by rickshaw. Nonetheless I drank for free all night, which was mostly the result of my wanting to liven things up for me and my party, at the minor expense of self-humiliation. My brother taught me a few phrases that would invite attention, so I spoke loudly at the bar. The one I recall most clearly was "wo xihuan zhongguo jiba." It's funny when stuff sounds like complete gibberish to me, while the rest of the room hears "I love Chinese dick."

Even if there were no open bars, the next best thing was available - an intriguing and frugally priced array of booze at the grocery store. A can of beer can be had for around 12 cents, and a gallon of Everclear-strength rice liquor sets you back only $1. Plus I don't think you need to brown-bag it if you leave the house -- there seem to be no rules when it comes to drinking and cigarettes. (I even saw one of those make-the-claw-grab-the-prize arcade games for kids full of cigarettes with cute animals on the packaging.)

The Chinese are well-known as masters of the art of counterfeit. Much like the Louis Vuitton bags sold on Canal street in colors and styles never made by the original brand, China has it's own take on Milwaukee's working-class and hipster fave Pabst's Blue Ribbon.

The best of the lot was the orange-flavored Blue Diamond in a PBR-styled can. Surprisingly delicious, it wasn't overly sweet like a Smirnoff twister, and retained a pleasant hint of lager, not like a malt liquor. Also decent was the Blue Ribbon apple beer in a yellow can. It wasn't like cider, more like a downscale version of an American microbrew in a yuppie essence like brambleberry-nutmeg harvest. The other options I tried unfortunately tasted like sugary piss -- pineapple, strawberry-banana, and red bean. Frankly I was surprised at the lack of a meat-flavored brew - nearly every other consumable product in the store at least comes in pork. Maybe a rabbit PBR would be good. Like my private driver said, "cute AND delicious."

So too bad, no china.myopenbar.com listings coming anytime soon, but at least I'll be reimbursed by the company for the research costs, and it sure was a fun assignment. Seva, just send the $4,100 to my home address. Thanks, dood! Yer the best! I'd better cut it here. Time to zone out into ipod antisocialness -- don't want my pervy neighbor up here to think I'm going anywhere near his zhongguo jiba.

posted by pinkeye at 11:25 PM   |   3 comments

Last night's Rated X Party at Scenic lived up to its reputation as a sweaty haven for the polysexual exhibitionist hipster set and their colorfully tattooed rockstar model pals. There's a lot I could say about this mobbed weekly dance party, centering on its weird thirty-something Grace Jones-meets-Star Jones-meets-My Chemical Romance steez. Typical Motherfucker scene, except here at 2:30am the drawers drop like crazy. Dicks get equal billing with tits, but the dick-bearers are so sheepish, they hardly merit mention. The gallery photos and a tit/haircut inventory sum up the rest:

43 nipples
5 mohawks
3 fauxhawks
2 new wave songs
12 new wave haircuts
14 artificially black 'dos
7 artificially bleach-blonde 'dos
0 pairs of fake tits on women
2 pairs of fake tits on men
1 chick who really should've worn a differerent bra or kept her shirt on
3 live pin-up titty shoots by the scenester with the magical 'do
1 asymmetrically coiffed gay dude with his face in 4 tits for 5 minutes
8 pairs of perfect titties, variously sized
3 pairs of sloppy titties, variously sized
1 pair of perfect titties sloppy with donut jelly
1 bowl cut
2 rat tails

Hey, don't dis on the rat tail. The time to start growing is now, yo.

posted by pinkeye at 12:39 AM   |   2 comments

There seems to be a common perception that MOB staff are carefree, party-loving maniacs who glide through New York on wings of free alcohol. Sadly, dear readers, this is not always the case, as was evidenced by our latest corporate party crash. In fact, the MOB endured a certain amount of suffering in order to bring you this latest report from the field.

A sweet and well-meaning reader employed by a massive media conglomerate (hereafter referred to as "Screwscorp"* (see footnote) invited us to undoubtedly the biggest and weirdest holiday party in New York. Crashing that piece was no joke -- we were instructed to use the automated web RSVP system, and print out our confirmation page. We were nervous -- Screwscorp is a family of many media outlets, some of which are notoriously conservative. We perfected our "just came straight from the office" attire (see gallery) and bravely donned slacks and blazers.

You literally needed a map to navigate all the rooms. After steering through a maze of fortune tellers (what do fortune tellers have to do with Screwscorp?) we found ourselves in a room the size of a football stadium. It was dark, overcrowded, and instead of playing music, screening a favorite long-running tv show on massive screens, and at top volume. The effect was very much like a Vegas casino, in all the worst ways. To add to the casino vibe there were crowds of people hovering around many oblong tables. At first, I thought "Roulette!" but was dismayed to find that the food was hidden in these knots of people. We tried to sidle in and help ourselves. One of our party attempted a meek "excuse me? could I just reach in and grab some pasta?" and was greeted with a "The REST of us have been WAITING in LINE for 45 MINUTES!!! Why don't YOU ask the REST of the PEOPLE IN LINE???!!!" Eep. Pretty much everyone we encountered had this attitude. Either they could tell that we were outsiders, or the people that work for this company are effing rude. (Except, of course, for our dear readers. You would never do such a thing.)

We fought tooth and nail to get some food on our plates. And what did they have? Broccoli beef and fried rice, with so much artificial smoke flavoring that it all tasted a bit like an ashtray. What is with this company? You poor darlings. No wonder no one was nice.

Dessert perked us up, mini-cheesecakes and cannoli. We decided to check out the many entertainment options at this thing. The best was the sports-themed room, with dancing cheerleaders. Could it get any weirder? How about an ice sculpture? And a sports car? I thought I'd seen everything, but I guess I was wrong. All in all, it was worth it, though we left hungry and strangely sober (Screwscorp apparently waters down the vodka, too.). Keep sending us the invites, and we'll continue to push the limits of good taste in the name of a freebie.

[**the original blog re: party crashing, in which I asked our readers to tell us how to crash their corporate holiday parties, was taken down after the company complained.]

posted by mia at 6:41 PM   |   2 comments

When working with listings that include a lot of one-off events, it's occasionally inevitable that a writer will have little to go on, other than a biased press release and an instinctive sense of what's worthwhile. Anything in town with some sort of free booze offering is fair game for the listings. Us being highly cultured types (obviously), we tend to give higher ratings to listings with an artistic pretense. So when the press release for the curiously named Weapons of Mass Attraction came in, we were quick to bestow praise. It certainly sounded like a blowout, featuring an eight-month documented process ending live on opening night, a series dubbed "Sexual Chinatown" and of course, the obligatory free booze (red, white, and sparkling!). There were promises of food, a sprawling six-room art show, emerging artists, and a 12-piece bachata band, all at the legendary 7000 sq ft Astor Place Barbershop.

Well myopenbar.com officially checked out the party, and unfortunately there is sobering news to report. This is what happens when you get your lead from press releases. These PR people, you see, speak in a different language than you and I. Everything they say should be taken with a grain of salt or at least, a set of quotation marks. Here's a translation of the evening:

"Free wine, sparkling wine, food": Trader Joe's very best -- Two Buck Chuck in two colors. And the sparkling? A disconcerting red.
"Emerging artists": Judging from the cohesiveness of the exhibit, a term now interchangeable with "Outsider Artists."
"Sexual Chinatown": A photo series that at least can't be faulted for lack of a clear concept: pictures of Chinatown storefronts containing words that could be interpreted by English-speakers as "naughty." If Beavis and Butthead collaborated behind the camera, this is what you'd get, in terms of both quality and imagination.
"Documented process": The bombastic artist will be followed around by a posse all evening, acting like there's something of note going on worth documenting.
"12-piece bachata band": Eight guys in cheap suits playing Hoobastank songs.
"Weapons of Mass Attraction": The show's title, indicating an exhibit involving totally unrelated but cheaply sewn together forays into cheap perversion, caveman-caliber militia, and garbage sculpture.
"Art": An assortment of crap, randomly and boldly priced up into the high four digits. The proprietors will be eschewing the traditional gallery price list, in favor of taping prices directly to the walls. These prices will be indicated on large pieces of misshapen cardboard in, presumably, the artist's own fat Sharpie scrawl.

In all fairness, the event was not a total loss. When else do you get a chance to spin around in and almost break the chairs at Astor Place Barbershop without the fluorescent lights of business hours getting in your eyes? And it's truly a sprawling, killer venue. The only other way to get access like this would be to cozy up to one of Astor Place's real artists -- the ones who work at the Barbershop. You ever see those designs they shave into people's heads? There's some art to celebrate. Bored curators/promoters, get that party started. As for the liquor sponsor, get those Sofia Coppola mini-champagne cans -- the ones with the bendy straws that get you all crunked up fast nice-like. Do it and we'll give you top billing on the site all week. You can take our word for it.

posted by pinkeye at 10:30 PM   |   2 comments

Oh. My. God.
You people are amazing.
So yesterday, right after we posted the corporate party crashing blog, we received a comment inviting us and all the world to crash the very lavish Hearst Magazines party. We couldn't believe our luck! We were in the car and on our way to Tavern on the Green in twenty minutes flat, creating elaborate backstories for ourselves (we're the marketing department from Popular Mechanics, for instance), and rehearsing the Shania Twain mayonnaise story. This proved unnecessary, though. When we got out of the car, we were asked "Are you here for the Hearst party?" We responded with a resounding "YES!!!"

This went so well, as you will see from the accompanying gallery, that we may make this our main source of meals and booze for the duration of December. I have another invite in my inbox, and that party looks amazing!!! Keep them coming, and don't forget to say hi when we show up and spill things on your boss.

posted by mia at 11:06 AM   |   5 comments