AIN’T NO PLACE LIKE HOME

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Me & street legend Ben O’Garro a.k.a. Killer Ben in Fort Greene Brooklyn

While in Georgia last week for my sister’s wedding, I hit up a club in Decatur to get crunk and pick some sweet Georgia peaches.  The spot was free so I had to wait on a cheese line for over an hour to get in.  Normally, Black Pacino never waits in line to enter a club and if I were rollin’ dolo I would’ve said “Fuck this” and dipped.  But accompanied by my sister and her homegirls, who were anxious to peep this specific club, I marinated with Kush and waited patiently.  The bouncers were letting people breeze in for $20 but those of us seeking no cover charge had to wait in line.  Fair enough.

The name of the joint is Pure Atlanta and it was pure all right.  Pure bullshit.  After waiting on line for what seemed to be an eternity to get in for free, the good folks at the door made me pay an “out-of-towner tax.”  Since I’m from New York they extorted me for 20 bucks even though there was only an hour left to party by the time we got to the door. If my standard-issue Yankees fitted and BK swag didn’t give me away, my NYC driver’s license (which they checked twice) did.  My sis and her friends are also from Up North but since they’re pretty females they got in free.  Shit, I don’t pay to go to parties… I get paid to go to parties, ya’ dig?

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The doorman, knowing he had home-court advantage, was smug and arrogant.  Had I not been on foreign soil for a happy occassion (and also outnumbered), I would’ve snuffed his bitch-ass on the spot.  But since my unwitting fam had already entered the club first, I paid the money with profanity-laden protest.  Someone should inform these Confederate-ass niggas that the Civil War is over.  I know they’re upset that Georgia women are bored with them and dudes from New York bag their chicks with ease. And I’d be mad too if I couldn’t buy a beer after midnight on Saturday and most of the clubs in my town closed by 2am.  But still… I spent a good portion of my life Down South and I hung out in ATL long before it became the gay capital.  Show me love.

That’s why despite its many faults, there’s no place like my native New York.    While niggas in most states are confined to the crib without shit to do, my crew and I are free-wheelin’ nightcrawlers.  On the strength of press connections and reputation alone I get invited to clubs and events that average squares can’t fathom.  Plus my top enforcer, Snake , is the C.E.O. of Antitode Promotions and they put together some dope parties, like “Any Given Sunday” at Club Nine.  Okay, so Club Nine is in Hoboken, New Jersey but it’s not far from NYC at all.  The most recent “Any Given Sunday” tripled as a launch party for The Spizzy and a birthday party for model Naomi Valerio a.k.a. Sexy Latina, who was featured at this very site not long ago…

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We had a lot of fun at Club Nine and it was great to see Naomi in-person.  She’s featured in the latest issue of Sweets magazine, by the way.  And to answer the burning question that I know is on your mind… yes, her booty is just as big in real life as it is in the photos.  Bigger, perhaps.

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Naomi’s crew wasn’t bad either.  Hell, they should all be models.  We’d welcome them with open arms at The Spizzy.  But this pic taken at Snake’s shindig will have to suffice for now.

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Indeed, Club Nine was poppin’ that Sunday night.  But on Friday, me and the Familia capped off the week with another bash.  This one was at Katra on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.  Fuck Pure Atlanta, Katra is a real no-cover club filled with gorgeous chicks of all ethnicities, plus we didn’t wait forever to get in.  We celebrated with Big Coney, the Capo of The Family, to launch his latest endeavor, Nex Era Radio.  I love to see my homies follow their dreams and Nex Era Radio’s debut attracted plenty of listeners.  It’s a funny show where folks can call-in and rant on a variety of ill topics.  Coney’s got some notable guests on-deck as well.  So we partied as if the next day were Armageddon.  Brooklyn goes hard.

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So although that bitch-ass doorman at Pure Bullshit Atlanta scored a minor victory that night, nobody can break Black Pacino’s spirit.  I hope his share of my $20 was well-spent.  In fact, he may be reading this right now, because I gave that piss-colored nigga a flyer for The Spizzy to which he responded, “Oh, that’s you?”

Yeah it’s me, mu’fucka. And if your lapdog salary affords you a bus ticket to NYC, remember my face and look me up if you vacation here.  That’s me in the pic above with that same black Yankees fitted.  My contact info is right here at The Spizzy.  Holla.  Me and the fam will give you a cordial BK welcome.

Check out my previous adventures in NYC nightlife:

ALUMNI OF “THE WIRE” GANG UP AT CLUB CORIO

BOWLING WITH THE STARS AT HARLEM LANES

XCELLENT PARTY AT TAJ

MAURICE AGER OF THE NJ NETS 25TH B-DAY PARTY AT CAIN LUXE

Fun facts about Ben “Killer Ben” O’Garro (R.I.P.):

KILLER BEN MURAL IN BROOKLYN RECIEVES A MAKEOVER

THE REALEST KILLER BY BYRON CRAWFORD

SHORT, MEAN LIFE OF KILLER BEN

Final thoughts: New Yorkers visiting Georgia should skip Pure Atlanta… we’re not welcome.  Or if you’re strapped, bust a shot in the air right in front of the club and close that shit down for a while.  Do it for your city.

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