Also inspiring inaugural hook-ups: The entertainment at the Kentucky Bluegrass Ball

Barack Obama is President now, which means that everyone can stop posting pathetic Craigslist ads seeking inaugural dates for watching him become President, right? Wrong. In the grand tradition of the post-election sex phenomenon, ambitious locals are still invoking Obama’s name in the pursuit of hookin’-up, awww yeah! So far, this guy is my favorite:

Are we really committed to change?—39 (NWDC)

Today we celebrate the inauguration of our first black president yet it amazes me how much many guys on here have closed minds and a lot of racial hangups.

Read More “President Obama Fails to Rescue Nation’s Hopeless Sex-Seekers” »

The line outside Ben’s Chili Bowl still stretched around the block this afternoon to accommodate tourists interested in consuming a half-smoke in the establishment where President Barack Obama famously consumed a half-smoke just days earlier. Also, keeping in the grand tradition of celebrating things by making things out of other things, there’s a sweet ice sculpture outside dedicated to out new neighbor. Can somebody tell me what this is supposed to make out? O-B-A-M-A? Whatever, I can’t make any sense of it.

The Huffington Post points us to this video of members of the Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka, Kansas protesting Obama’s inauguration yesterday on Pennsylvania Ave. From HuffPo:

NomadsLand provides a nice video of the Westboro clan getting worked over by the more well-adjusted crowd and giving their typical bizarre answers to everything. I especially love the part where one church member explains the crypto-zoology behind the size of various mythical beasts’ horns.

My favorite is when they all chant “Anti-Christ! Anti-Christ!”

I missed Beyonce singing “At Last” to Barack and Michelle at last night’s Neighborhood Ball—I was busy scoping out presidential connections (and duck wraps!) at the Hawaii State Society Inaugural Ball—which means I got to cry a little bit over YouTube this morning. Here’s the first dance, in case you missed it, too:

I know everyone thinks Rick Warren is offensive because he hates women and gay people, but I think he proved today that the true offensive trick up his sleeve is that he doesn’t make any goddamned (apologies) sense. Did that invocation make sense to anyone else? I’m waiting on the full transcript, and I’m not a religious woman, but the only thing I can take away from that thing is that Rick Warren pronounces “Sasha” with an occultish, whispered urgency. Sssssasha. Sssssshhhhhhasshshhhsa.

Also there are a lot of words for Jesus, but listing them still comes off as strangely exclusively Christian, no?

UPDATE: The full text of Warren’s invocation, after the jump.

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Ted hangs with master bugler, bourbon

Inaugural balls! We all wish to participate in them without paying. Last night, City Paper’s Ted Scheinman and I entered the $350-per-head Kentucky Bluegrass Ball with naught but a press pass and a dream, and emerged with tummies full of bison burgers, commemorative bottles of Maker’s Mark tucked beneath our coats, and valuable ball-crashing lessons learned. Now, we impart them to you. Click here for a list of tonight’s inaugural events, then get to crashing.

CHOOSE YOUR BALL BY LOCATION. The easiest balls to crash are at huge, multi-use facilities with several points of access. That means you should hit the hotel balls before the ones at society houses, art facilities, theaters, or clubs. The Kentucky Ball was held at the Marriott Wardman hotel, which was also hosting a North Carolina inaugural ball and an inaugural conference of sorts—a perfect storm of crashing potential. With all these events raging well into the night, access was hard to control.

There are a couple clear advantages to hitting up a hotel hosting more than one event. First, if you strike out at one ball, you can stage an older, wiser assault on the hotel’s other fête. Second, if you get caught draining the open bar at one ball and are asked to show a ticket stub, you’ve got an easy drunk-guy excuse: “Oh, I didn’t realize this was [NAME OF BALL YOU ARE CRASHING]. I thought I was at the [NAME OF BALL YOU WILL BE CRASHING SHORTLY], to which I hold tickets.”

Read More “How to Crash an Inaugural Ball Tonight!: Lessons from the Kentucky Bluegrass Ball” »

In this era of crazed, critically crowded congregations of millions of Americans on national park land, who has time to watch television from the comfort of your home? That’s why I’ve volunteered my time to record this historic event as presented on television. Here we gooo!

11:20 a.m. … Jimmy Carter! George H.W. Bush! Bill Clinton! Trivia question—what is the unifying trait of all these old white men?

Read More “The Sexist Watches The Inauguration on TV So You Don’t Have To” »

D.C.’s most successful hotel developer (not pictured)

“I want to be in the City Paper!” announced the tuxedoed man. He, several other tuxedoed men, accompanied by several gowned women, were enjoying cocktails at the Marriott Wardman hotel on the occasion of the 2009 Kentucky Bluegrass Ball. “I am D.C.’s most successful hotel developer,” he explained.

“Do you know of some sort of scandal I might report?” I asked D.C.’s most successful hotel developer.

D.C.’s most successful hotel developer considered the question. “Here’s a scandal,” he posited. “My wife”—indicating a lovely woman in a black ball gown—”will grab her breast”—indicating another lovely woman in a black ball gown. “You can take a picture of this,” he added.

Read More “Boobs on Display at the Kentucky Bluegrass Ball” »

The time has come for the Obamas to decide on the cwute widdle doggie they’ll be installing into their new home, which will be ceremoniously seized from the Bushies tomorrow. Last week, it was reported that the Obamas had narrowed the breed field to two: It’s gonna be either the Portuguese Water Dog or the Labradoodle.

I gotta jump in here and offer my official support for the Labradoodle. Yeah, the whole designer breed thing is kinda chintzy; yeah, the name is really dumb. But check out this little ‘Doodle who hangs out outside my neighborhood coffee shop, tethered outdoors so all may drink in its cuteness:

Awww! Look at that little Labradoodle face! Who’d rather be staring at a monstrous Portuguese Water Dog’s mug right now? Gross!

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Last night, I reported from the swankiest, most exclusive, hippest, Hills-iest, fanciest inaugural ball in all of Adams Morgan that was supposed to cost $125 but to which everyone actually secretly got in for free. Once the wool was pulled from our eyes, and the burning question—”who would play for this?”—was finally answered—”nobody”—it was time to revel in the absurd glory of all the false hype. Below, more photos from the desperately exclusive Town Tavern party that I still have not confirmed any cast member of MTV’s the “Hills” actually attended, as promised.

Who needs the cast of the “Hills” when you have these famous figures of history and fantasy?

Read More “INAUGURAL CELEB WATCH: More Photos of Where the “Hills” Weren’t” »