Gavin McInnes writes:
Some kid snuck in and started putting swastika stickers on the art, which I missed, but I did catch a big fat guy in a Che Guevara hat who was clutching a bag close to his side and acting very suspicious. I asked him if he was a plant and he immediately started panicking so I threw his hat in the pig’s blood, grabbed him by the collar, and threw him out the door. As I was marching him out, he broke into this high-pitched scream that sounded like an 8-year-old girl on a roller coaster. It was one of the funniest and most disturbing things I’ve ever heard. It was also invigorating and the atmosphere at this thing reminded me of early-Giuliani New York when there was a sense of danger and people wanted to get into trouble. Despite the art being so disproportionately faggy, there were tons of beautiful women floating around and they were flirtatious because everyone was drunk.
