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This is What You Missed Last Month (According To Linux)<\/strong>, in which nightlife it-girl Linux<\/a> takes us behind the velvet rope and into the VIP section of Scene-City. Through her extreme (sometimes exaggerated) lens, Linux gives us the tea on what really happened at every party-of-the-century that floods our Instagram feeds. (A note from the author: don\u2019t take what she says too seriously \u2014 she\u2019s just a club kid after all).<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Like all New Yorkers, I am an intensely passionate ass bitch (and <\/em><\/em>ass-bitch) about mostly all of the things I love. <\/em><\/em>For one, I love fashion: resulting in my entire Bushwick (sometimes \u201cEast Williamsburg,\u201d depending on who I\u2019m talking to) apartment being filled-to-the-brim with barely-worn designer clothing (my roommate wants to kill me.<\/em><\/em>) Second, I love cute boys: leaving my smudged lipstick in a constant <\/em><\/em>state of requiring reapplication. Third, I love a fierce<\/em><\/em> cocktail: meaning I almost always <\/em><\/em>have a headache (that is, until I start drinking again.) And penultimately, I love partying in the city that I call home: New York. These being a few of my favorites things is why my resting state is back-of-the-club-drunkenly-macking-on-a-male-model-in-head-to-toe-Rick-Owens.<\/p>\n Another thing I love deeply? Holidays. And I\u2019m not<\/em><\/em> just talking Cupid and Santa, baby. I celebrate my birthday for upwards of two weeks,<\/em><\/em> and <\/em>my IG story posts go ham <\/em><\/em>on Indigenous People\u2019s Day (I\u2019m 50% Lumbee!). To take things even further: Holidays \u00e0 la Madonna, Green Day and Nicki Minaj\u2019s Roman stay<\/em><\/em> triple platinum in the AirPods I stole from my roommate (No, like, she literally <\/em><\/em>wants to kill me!) All that said (for your pleasure), there\u2019s one holiday that is my absolute favorite… the one you came here to read about today: New Year\u2019s.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n New Year\u2019s is the <\/em><\/em>holiday for partygirls-with-intention like myself. <\/em><\/em>The Eve is dedicated to, well \u2014 in reference to earlier: being at the club drunkenly kissing someone while in cunty fashions. For the full year following, we commit (as much as one would to their partner in an open relationship) to the new \u201cus\u201d that we give birth to once the clock strikes midnight (or at least until you recover from the NYE bender on the 3rd of January). As a master in my field, I\u2019ve come here to tell you, my ever-learning readers, that there\u2019s only one <\/em><\/em>way to celebrate NYE in NYC: stay out of Manhattan, party-hop your tuchus off in Brooklyn<\/em><\/em>.<\/p>\n Oh, and by the way: Surprise… I\u2019m baaaaaaack!!! For years I\u2019ve concluded each and every month by recapping the wildest parties the denizens of New York City have thrown so that you, my tea-obsessed readers, could get your fill on all the ongoings of the scene in Scene City. But lately there\u2019s just been one issue… New York has gotten too lit. <\/em><\/em>Yes, even I<\/em><\/em> didn\u2019t know that was possible, but recently especially, the parties and after parties and after-after-parties have gotten so fucking good<\/em><\/em> that all of us have, well, just kept going. And going. Aaaaand going… and going. Between the doll raves in Bushwick, never-ending sunrise sets at Basement<\/u><\/a>,and celebrity filled Holiday galas we\u2019re all still-awake at, can\u2019t-miss events have been so prevalent that I\u2019ve accidentally been spending all my time getting my life<\/em><\/em> at them that I forgot to do the other part… tell you about what happened at them! <\/em><\/em>But you know what? I wouldn\u2019t be the Anthony Bourdain of parties if I didn\u2019t get a little too loaded and disappear every once in a while. Do y\u2019all want authenticity or not?!<\/p>\n So, yeah, sorry, my apologies. New York got too good and I literally forgot I had a job. But with New Year\u2019s comes new beginnings, new plans and new promises (ones I totally won\u2019t break… I promise!)<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n There\u2019s no place like the present to talk about the past, so with that I welcome you BACK to your favorite column in the world. Here is a very \u201cNew Year\u2019s In New York\u201d special edition of<\/em><\/em> What You Missed Last Month in NYC (According to Linux<\/strong>)!<\/p>\n But before we pump it to our New Year\u2019s Eve plans, I wanna reflect with you on one of the best parties I threw in 2024, just last month: The Strangler. <\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n \nSee on Instagram<\/a>\n<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n <\/p>\n Anyone who has ever visited NYC over the age of 21 or watched a single TikTok on \u201cWhere to go Clubbing in NYC\u201d has heard of the city\u2019s most infamous nightclub: The Box. Written by me in PAPER<\/em><\/em> plenty, <\/em><\/em>the broken heart of the Bowery\u2019s half-bottle-service-spot-half-X-Rated-late-nite-Cabaret has been a staple in Manhattan\u2019s social calendar for more than a decade. (Yes, this is the <\/em><\/em>place where Kylie Jenner pays $10,000 to see the legendary Rosewood shove a plunger up her ass and staple her dick into a makeshift post-op vagina.) When the venue hit its tenure post-COVID, the owners decided an expansion was in order. That dream inspired the birth of the three-story uptown Labyrinth-After-Dark that would be called none other than: The Stranger. <\/p>\n One could only use the term \u201clabyrinth\u201d to describe the club, as the winding hallways and hidden rooms \u2014 each with their own set of kooky decor and seemingly endless avenues of adventure \u2014 combined with the lawless nature of what one can do within those nooks and crannies, is something straight from the mind of Guillermo del Toro if he did a shit ton of speed-laced DMT and had an affinity for women who could be men and men who could be women. After countless wild nights had by me (and forgotten come morning-after!) When The Stranger approached me about throwing a takeover and injecting my doll-from-Bushwick taste level and is-she-or-is-she-not fame from Instagram, you can see how it was a no brainer.<\/p>\n So I did just that. <\/em><\/em>For one night only, the most it <\/em><\/em>DJs in NYC (Flirty800<\/u><\/a>, Fashion<\/u><\/a> and Sevyn0000<\/u><\/a>) blasted cunty techno in the basement. Upstairs in the main room, heavy-house main players Amber Valentine<\/u><\/a> and Alexis De La Rosa<\/u><\/a> held the CDJs hostage while the Stranger\u2019s in-house band of freaks and club kids (who blessed our shoot this column!) wreaked havoc on stage. Around midnight, my good friend VTSS<\/u><\/a> pulled up with her USB and plugged in for a spur-of-the-moment DJ set that flooded everyone\u2019s IG stories. She\u2019s literally playing Coachella this year… did someone say \u201cclout?\u201d <\/em><\/em><\/p>\n For a nightlife terrain mostly of warehouse moments in Brooklyn, getting the who\u2019s who of who\u2019s left in scene-city to drop everything and sell out a three-story space in Manhattan reminded me of the parties I first started going to when I moved to NYC more than 10 years ago. Think original Holy Mountain at Slake in 2015, if blue checks existed back then. The best way a friend described the night to me was \u201ca breath of fresh air,\u201d and that couldn\u2019t be further from the truth. Amanda Lepore could be seen luxuriating at her VIP table while a doll in Balenciaga with a net worth of negative 20 cents ingested $400 worth of kundle. When my G dealer got there and texted me, \u201cHey babe, I thiiiink I\u2019m here lol. Is it the Gay Circus?\u201d I responded, \u201cYepppp.\u201d<\/p>\n After that <\/strong>quick<\/em><\/strong><\/em> commercial break, <\/strong>it\u2019s finally time to dive into New Year\u2019s Eve 2024… the Linux way. Now, <\/em><\/em>there is only one<\/em><\/em> way to do NYE: attend no more than three <\/em><\/em>events. The first should be an apartment pregame that starts no later <\/em><\/em>than 8 PM. This will allow you to have superficial meet-and-greets with your friends, and lube up before being forced to get to the club before 11 PM. The next spot is where you should arrive no later <\/em><\/em>than 11:30, enough time to get settled before kissing your man, bestie (or both!) come midnight. At 4 AM you leave and spend the morning-into-afternoon at whichever mega-after-hours-rave you can get your freshly manicured and spray-tan-stained paws on. Having already pumped it at the pregame, it was time to hit up our first destination.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n For the last five years, I\u2019ve produced my own <\/em><\/em>New Year\u2019s Eve parties. This is a feat I\u2019d wish on none of my enemies, because it always meant missing (and being forced to against-my-better-judgement compete) with Ladyfag\u2019s<\/u><\/a> incomparable New Year\u2019s Eve bash, an MVP of the many NYE parties that take place in our city each year. This year I made the decision to choose peace, and hosted her Brooklyn Edition of Battle Hymn. The party sells out in seconds, so all I had to do was look fab and have fun… two things I do in my sleep.<\/p>\n While Battle Hymn in Manhattan has the bells and whistles that comes with throwing a party in a proper nightclub, its Brooklyn counterpart has the no-rules je ne sais quoi<\/em> that only comes with that of an underground warehouse party… which is all <\/em><\/em>the rage right now. By my arrival at 11ish, the warehouse was already jam-packed with a sea of muscle gays, already 4 doses in, wearing nothing but sweat, and ready to ring in 2025 doing the same people they did in ’23 and ’24. Alinka<\/u><\/a> and Manu Miran<\/u><\/a> spun on the decks, and the world-renowned Boris<\/u><\/a> headlined starting at 3 AM and going until the early morning. <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Upon hearing a rumor that I would be discussing the immense level of sin that goes on at the hottest rave in NYC <\/em><\/em>for PAPER<\/em>, <\/em><\/em>the producer (and former failed love interest of mine that took me to Berghain for the first time… that has <\/em><\/em>to account for something!<\/em><\/em>) sent me a beautifully written cease-and-desist disguised as a letter of admiration in regards to running the piece:<\/p>\n \u201cWe love what you do for the community, your work is so well written, on the pulse, and humorous. There\u2019s just one issue: your reach is just so<\/em><\/em> strong that everything you write about gets taken over by rich Manhattan gays immediately after. Our niche and carefully curated sub-scene of attendees is just too integral to the success of our party to risk you blowing up (and ruining) yet another <\/em><\/em>one of our parties.\u201d<\/p>\n Because for the entirety of the 2010s, this same producer threw a monthly rave series called [REDACTED<\/u><\/a>] that quite literally had the city in a chokehold and singlehandedly reintroduced underground techno into the nightlife scene. After the producer sealed the fate of his rave by making me <\/em><\/em>the face of it two springs ago, he decided to bury the party in its casket, and launch his newest <\/em><\/em>party series: [REDACTED] And yes, I will be redacting as much as I have to, I refuse to be blacklisted from the greatest party I\u2019ve attended in my lifetime. <\/p>\n Now, merely a few times a year, the party takes over a monster of a warehouse in Brownsville. While the party\u2019s predecessor had a darkness to it like heavy fog, pitch black dance floors with cool white strobe and furious angry techno to match, the new series is the opposite: advanced lighting rigs in purples, blues, yellows and pinks breathe a sense of PLUR into the Best Buy-sized main room. Instead of the previous carnage evoked, [REDACTED\u2019s] focus is camp. Instead of former themes like Death and the Socialism Manifesto, the vibes now surround humorous ketamine-humor\u2019d concepts like the fictitious Brownsville Plaza, a recent addition to the neighborhood that will add a Rainbow-painted helipad, three Equinoxess and a Sweetgreen 2. On the second floor of the rave, the stripped warehouse was dressed into an abandoned office space with cubicles covered in office supplies and asbestos ceiling tiles to match. What makes [REDACTED] such an incredible party is that when the overarching <\/em><\/em>theme is to basically get as fucked up as possible, the entire city\u2019s queer population comes more-than-prepared to do their <\/em><\/em>part: gathering their drugs, serotonin and demons for weeks in advanced… all so that they too <\/em><\/em>can have [REDACTED] (the name is something one can have all of and none of… at the same <\/em><\/em>time.)<\/p>\n [REDACTED] is a journey, with doors opening after midnight and the [REDACTED] being had until sometimes 4 or 5 PM the following day. <\/em><\/em>I wish I could say more, like who I saw that I know you fangirl for and the disgusting things I witnessed them doing come 12 PM; but you guys, I literally can not be blacklisted from this place. <\/em><\/em>Like, I\u2019ll kill myself.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n To start our 2025 off right, as my New Year\u2019s Kiss To You, <\/em><\/strong><\/em>I decided to cave in to the countless<\/em><\/em> requests for what we are leaving in 2024 and bringing with us in 2025. An \u201cins and outs\u201d list, if you will. But the whole point of an ins and outs list is that it has to be what is actually <\/em><\/em>in and out, which is why I asked the most prolific party girls of our time, my readers, to share with me their <\/em><\/em>ins and outs to possibly get a moment in the column. I\u2019ve compiled the best submissions along with my own, and created the First Ever Official Partygirl End of the Year Ins And Outs (According to Linux and her loyal cult of crackheads.) <\/p>\n <\/p>\n IN:<\/p>\n<\/th>\n OUT:<\/p>\n<\/th>\n<\/tr>\n<\/thead>\n Turning LOOKS again<\/p>\n<\/td>\n All black pseudo-fashion<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Leaving the party producer alone<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n<\/td>\n Asking the party producer for a drink ticket<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n \u201cNice to see you\u201d<\/p>\n<\/td>\n \u201cNice to meet you\u201d<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Gum & travel-sized perfume<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Coke-breath & B.O.<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Skipping the line<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Waiting like a plebeian<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Leeching off a doll\u2019s stripper money<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Sponsoring a doll<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n @RealityVonTS<\/p>\n<\/td>\n CNN <\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Embodying Brat<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n<\/td>\n Talking about Brat<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Discussing Politics at the club<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Club Politics<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Having ten boyfriends<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Crying about them when you realize none of them are your actual boyfriends<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Sharing trade with your sister<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Making your sister your trade<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Flats (so cisgender)<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n<\/td>\n Heels (so transgender)<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Ubers<\/p>\n<\/td>\n The MTA in a full beat after 10 PM<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Knowing the DJ<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Asking me \u201cwho\u2019s playing right now?\u201d when the name\u2019s right there on the flyer, sis.<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Vaping and blowing the smoke right in someones face as they vent to you about drama you never asked to hear about<\/p>\n<\/td>\n A rat crawling over your foot as you smoke a bummed cigarette in 30 degree weather <\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Following Carry Nation around NYC like they\u2019re the Beatles<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Knowing who The Beatles are<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Publicly drooling over Luigi Mangione<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Sending your coin to Luigi Mangioni\u2019s commissary like a good pay pig<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Telling everyone about the time you saw Hunter Biden at Paul\u2019s Dolls<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Admitting to anyone that you once voted for his father<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n A room at the club that only Dolls can access<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Dark rooms for gays to cheat on their fake TS girlfriends in<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Going to an afters on a weekday<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Saving your load for the weekend<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Not coming to the function empty-handed<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Mooching<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n The art of party gab<\/p>\n<\/td>\n One-word responses<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Paying the door cover<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Guestlist<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Galcohol<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Alcohol<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Boofing<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Bumps off a doll\u2019s nail<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n Findomming a Trump supporter<\/p>\n<\/td>\n Trump<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n <\/p>\n Creative direction and photography: Matt Woodruff<\/a> This is What You Missed Last Month (According To Linux), in which nightlife it-girl Linux…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":873,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[13],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/demoslotrupiah.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1104"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/demoslotrupiah.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/demoslotrupiah.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/demoslotrupiah.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/demoslotrupiah.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1104"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/demoslotrupiah.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1104\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1134,"href":"http:\/\/demoslotrupiah.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1104\/revisions\/1134"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/demoslotrupiah.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/873"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/demoslotrupiah.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1104"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/demoslotrupiah.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1104"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/demoslotrupiah.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1104"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}<\/h3>\n
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<\/p>\n11\/30: THE STRANGLER<\/h3>\n
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12\/31: New Year’s Eve: Battle Hymn Brooklyn<\/h3>\n
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<\/p>\n12\/31: New Year’s Eve: Battle Hymn Brooklyn<\/h3>\n
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<\/p>\n12\/31: New Year’s Eve: Battle Hymn Brooklyn<\/h3>\n
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<\/p>\n12\/31: New Year’s Eve: Battle Hymn Brooklyn<\/h3>\n
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<\/p>\n12\/31: New Year’s Eve: Battle Hymn Brooklyn<\/h3>\n
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<\/p>\n12\/31: New Year’s Eve: Battle Hymn Brooklyn<\/h3>\n
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<\/p>\n12\/31: New Year’s Eve: Battle Hymn Brooklyn<\/h3>\n
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<\/p>\n12\/31: New Year’s Eve: Battle Hymn Brooklyn<\/h3>\n
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1\/1: New Year’s Day: [REDACTED ILLEGAL RAVE]<\/h3>\n
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<\/p>\n1\/1: New Year’s Day: [REDACTED ILLEGAL RAVE]<\/h3>\n
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INS AND OUTS OF 2025 (PARTYGIRL EDITION)<\/h3>\n
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Art direction: Chris Correa<\/a>
Photo assist: Charles Pierce<\/a>
Location: The Stranger<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"