Bash Compactor: A Room Full of Boobs

Written by Matt Harvey on . Posted in Bash Compactor, Posts.

An odd assortment of disappointed dyslexics and fledgling comics celebrated Spring Break at Greenhouse last Thursday night. “Wild Girls Gone,” the satirically titled event, revolved around videos of neurotic girls talking revealingly about their feelings—their clothes firmly on. Mumble porn without the porn. My wouldbe wingman cried false advertising: “You can’t just rearrange some words.” Slapping the air with the back of his hand he added,“Ultimately, it’s like, you need some tits to back it up.”

Recently out of prison Girls Gone Wild maven Joe Francis appeared not to think the joke funny either.Topped-off in a beige Members-Only windbreaker, the fallen porn mogul was shuffling around looking shell-shocked and clutching his invitation. The frequently jailed producer shook his head and muttered, “Too many white girls in here,” then he wheeled around on his heels and strode out. Of course, it wasn’t Francis at all, only his spitting image, talk-radio producer Scott Pellegrino.

The fake Francis hadn’t fooled sexy cybergossip Brittany Mendenhall for a second. The 23-year-old knows that GGW is tres vanilla and could tell me why: “Black girls just won’t take it off for a T-shirt.” She herself turned down the offer to appear, albeit ruefully.

Moreover, she said, the antics featured on the popular DVDs “is put to shame,” by footage shot during black spring break party Freaknik, in Atlanta. Dropping her jaw in mock astonishment, she added, “Those girls do everything. Every-thing.”

Nearby, Jeffrey Gurian, an old-timey gag-writer, was cracking polished insults. He might have styled his high Phil Spector-wig hair by sticking his finger in an electric socket.

He unfurled a foot-long plastic prop pen from his thin-lapelled black jacket, and snatched my notebook away. Peering through tiny-framed glasses as he scribbled away he barked, “Use these quotes, kid, I’ll sound hilarious, and you’ll look like a genius!” The night marched on and several cases of gratis vodka were drained. The lights were dimmed and the vibe started to loosen up. The DJ cranked a cheesy house mix of “I Kissed a Girl,” up to 10. The bass-heavy thrum sparked a tiny blonde—wrapped tightly in a yellow dress—to go wild. She began grinding furiously against a leggy gal-pal.The latter couldn’t resist a melodramatic announcement: “I just saw your brother here!” Yellow dress froze in her tracks, and the fake Spring Break died right there.