So Saturday night was, um… interesting.

Mirabar was filled (filled) with the usual half-naked whores, which in turn attracts the rest of the fully-clothed whores. It’s like an ecosystem, really.

We hopped over to Dark Lady for last call (2 last calls actually) and were surprised to find the place largely empty, despite the efforts of DJ AV8 to keep people on the dance floor. We did hear that it was packed earlier in the night, but we still think someone needs to employ some Chris Harris-like tactics and pull the damn fire alarm over at Mirabar or something.

Anyway, we found another party at Therapy around 3am. Well, sort of. Upstairs was the normal crowd, but on our way in through the first floor, we happened upon a Black Panther meeting! Actually, it was some sort of Nigerian pride party — everyone was well-dressed (lots of gold jewelry and Macy Gray haircuts), there was NO hip-hop music, the event was fully catered, seemingly devoid of white people (which made us white devils stick out in an obviously private gathering), and all at 4 in the goddamn morning! Is there some secret party life of Nigerians that we’re not aware of? Because we love it!

It turns out that they had rented the upstairs from 10 until 2, but had no interest in leaving the downstairs until they were ready (they literally annexed a part of Therapy).

We also found out in the bathrooms that Fridays at Therapy lately have been hosting Cape Verdean night… a massive Cape Verdean night. According to reports, the upstairs packs from wall to wall every week — it sounds to us like the entire island nation of Cape Verde attends this shit all at once.

Lastly, we got a look at Therapy’s New Years party plans — open until 8am with DJ’s alternating every couple hours or so. Once shit dies down downtown, this may be our pick.

Left: Cat throwing up.
Right: Ms. Kitty Litter throwing up at Drag Brunch last Sunday.

So, we barely got into the holiday season this year — maybe on account of what a shit show Providence has been over the last few weeks.

Let’s go back to last Sunday night at Trixx down on Allens Ave. They’re having their typical Christmas party with all of their regulars, complete with Christmas tree and buffet table set up for Big Scotty to hover around once he arrived. We walked in a little late, interrupting a hot-body contest (at least that’s what it might have been). We won’t call out exactly who was up on the box, but we do know that one of them falls “somewhere in the autism spectrum”. That said, shouldn’t a spectacle like that be under some kind of ethical scrutiny? I mean, we don’t execute retards in jail anymore, do we? So why should we let them get slaughtered on stage?

Anyway, after having a few too many drinks, we thought that our watches were fucking up… but no, Scotty really did serve until way past 1:30. Oops.

Which Energy-Trixx DJ brings new meaning to the word “Francophile”? (haha)

Will you be out tonight?

Chances are, Mirabar’s DJ Kenny will not make the drive from Massachusetts to spin tonight, but will anyone make the drive downtown? You’ll have to pay for parking if you do, as the city has issued a parking ban…

Mickey Mouse singing karaoke at Dark Lady last Tuesday night.

Now for the first time, we can offer bitchiness… in audio! (Is nothing sacred? (and do you LOVE it?))

Press play!
DarkLady_12_09_08

Is THIS a surprise to anyone?

After all of the bullshit that goes on downtown after the bars close (gangs with whips, anyone?), we take this all with a “that’s what you get” attitude. We blame the club owners for allowing violent behavior to escalate and then pushing it out onto the streets for it to blow up. Oh, and for the underage drinking. And global warming.

Anyway, now that Level 2 has gone dark for a little bit, Recess Pub, which has been undergoing some changes recently underneath Level 2 may now have the chance to eek out some sort of an existence. Especially with an anticipated change in music (away from hip-hop), Recess on the weekends might become a reasonable spot again.

At least Retro night at Mirabar has been halfway decent lately.

By a narrow margin, Gallery’s Bob Thibault was voted most likely to win in an old club-owner fight against Mirabar’s John Dorr!

Now bitches, what was his weapon of choice? Vote!

As hard as it may be (for our livers) to believe, we don’t get downtown every single night — so sometimes we miss opportunities for pictures of hot messes, stories about shot boy porn, or general Providence terrible-ness.

How will you survive? On your own, bitches!

We’re thinking of opening up Bitchidence to a small number of contributors to suppliment our own take on Providence faggotry. This might be you if you can answer “yes, bitch!” to the following questions:

1. Do you go downtown to a bar at least twice a week? If you don’t, you probably won’t know what you’re talking about.

2. Did you graduate the 8th grade? Nobody likes reading anyway, so if you’re writing, it had better be understandable.

3. Can you bring a better story than us to Bitchidence.com? We’re not looking to make this blog any worse…

4. Can you tell the difference between a story and your story? Nobody wants to see pictures of you and your friends hugging and smiling at Mirabar. Save it for Facebook.

That’s it!

Send us something interesting to imabitchtoo@bitchidence.com. You’ll get a username and password and everything! (maybe)

It’s Rick James, bitch! (look closely in the upper right)
At Energy, Friday night.