King of Kings

So, I've been working at the old college radio station down here in Coral Gables, FL and yesterday a fellow DJ invited me to go watch him DJ at this little, tiny club/bar down on south beach. It's called Spider Pussy.
Anyway, it was an "indie dance night" which means they play Lucky Star AND that Le Tigre song.

I pulled into the club 'round about witching hour, bellied up to the bar, caught the bartender's attention with a wink and a hip-shake then forked over my $3 for a bottle of Budweiser. They were on special.

Next thing I know my jam comes on (House of Jealous Lovers by The Rapture -- far and away the best rock and roll song EVER, in the entire history of rock and roll songs). By now I'm all worked up, and have to get out on the dance floor before I just loose it. SO, I jump a couch, shove my way past some girl with heroin/robotussin eyes and a not so discrete thong -- she doesn't seem to mind.

I'm almost out there, under the strobes when it happens. I bump into a haggered old man. I'm thinking to myself, "what's this codger doing out this late?" Then I start to notice things.

snake skin boots -- CHECK
tight, black leather pants -- CHECK
flamboyantly colored and silky shirt -- CHECK
wrinkly, tight, tanned, and leathery skin -- CHECK
a feather ear ring -- CHECK
shark tooth necklace -- CHECK
rose tinted glasses -- CHECK
wild, but thinning hair -- CHECK
young lady in tow -- CHECK

Holy shit. I was face to face with KEITH RICHARDS, and my jam was his jam too. He was also enjoying the specially priced, $3 Budweisers. We shared a moment, then proceeded to shake it well into the AM.

In conclusion:
Last night I partied with KEEF. What'd you do?
  ¶ posted by christopher stuart at 4:34 PM