“Proud of your boy…”
“…I’m going to make you Proud of Your Boy, trust me as bad as I’ve been ma…”
The singing could be heard from the streets outside the relatively tiny 14th street bar which served as the site for the much lauded ProudBoy Magazine launch party. The venue was packed to the absolute brim with fans, honoured guests, and Proud Boys of every stripe the entire night. The crowd was spilling into the streets for the entire duration of the event and the atmosphere was unbelievable.
Kyle, our creative director, and I had arrived a day earlier from Toronto. The trip felt like the culmination of over a year of hard work, and now we got to see our baby being born. Pretty gay, I know. After a harrowing bus ride between La Guardia and Penn Station (near our hotel), during which our very Asian driver cut off several very angry people including a vodka delivery truck (the driver of which got out, wearing his Teamsters jacket, and began banging on the bus door and screaming at the driver…Oh, New York, I missed you) we finally were able to set up our safe space just down the street from Compound Studios.
The first person we met up with was none other than the legendary David Ross Spielman of Hollywood Liberal.
While Kyle produces the show, and I have been a guest for several episodes, this was our first chance to meet David in person. It felt like a reunion with a long lost bro and we knew right then that the next few days would be unbelievable.
Our first stop was a little Irish pub down the street. Unbeknownst to us naive Canadians, it is a custom in Manhattan to charge insane amounts of money for anything, including food and liquor, and lunch easily took care of the small per diem we had afforded ourselves to travel. After a few rounds, our collective Scottish heritage kicked in and we decided to drink the old fashioned way, so we hit up a discount liquor store and skipped right over that middleman.
After a few more hours of bourbon and bullshit in the hotel, we decided to take a jaunt down the street and catch the filming of Pat Dixon’s NYC Crime Report.
Our good friend and contributor Stephen McCarthy was doing a sketch we had workshopped on today’s episode and we were feeling very proud of our boy. So proud, in fact, that we didn’t realize someone had replaced our cigarettes with some sort of medicinal herb blend. Combined with tremendous amounts of Guinness and bourbon, it’s needless to say that we were all the way turnt up.
As I came through the door, Stephen handed me a bag full of baby body parts and blood and told me I was playing Planned Parenthood. So far, so good.
While my impromptu performance isn’t going to win me any Oscars, I was happy to help out my buddy do some hilarious shit.
Pat Dixon approached us in the audience before the show began and told us to “laugh at everything”, little did he know that it wouldn’t be a problem. The man is a genius and the show was hilarious. Everything was on point and he had me dying in my seat on a few occasions.
After the show, we decided to take a moment back at home base to prepare everything for the big game tomorrow, Hollywood Liberal was going to be out in full force.
Today was the big day.
After stopping by at Gavin’s show, Kyle and I spent a few hours exploring New York, specifically working through a list of landmarks we had sourced primarily from Home Alone 2, which is the only tourist material on the subject available in Canada. I counted 19 screaming homeless men in total, and someone later informed me that this was quite a bit lower than usual. What an amazing city.
We arrived at Gaslight Lounge shortly before 4pm and spent the next few hours getting everything set up. Martina Markota (Lady Alchemy) had done an amazing job coordinating everything we needed for the party to be a huge success and everyone present worked their asses off to get the place ready.
We set ourselves up in a private room towards the back of the bar.
We had our sound equipment and microphones ready to go, but when we found out that beer was going to be $8 a bottle, we knew we had some more preparation to be done. With the terrible exchange rate between US Dollars and their Canadian equivalent, this seemed unsustainable. Sorry, Tony, I’ll buy some beers, but the last time we got drunk for $120, we had an empty keg to show for it. The discount liquor store down the street had exactly what we needed, and as David, Kyle, and I stood on 14th street chugging down a pint of Maker’s each, we knew that tonight would be something special.
We got back as people were pouring in off of the street.
We quickly got situated in our booth and began pulling out key guests from the crowd to come give the Hollywood Liberals a piece of their mind. Gavin McInnes, his brother Kyle McInnes, Chuck Johnson, Emily Youcis, the impeccable Jim Goad, John Thaddeus White, Richard Donahue, and many others. It was like a “greatest hits” of everyone ever involved with the Proud Boys and we didn’t even get to half of the awesome people there. Many thanks are in order to everyone who came out to talk to us.
The energy in the room was electric.
With each state announced an alternating chorus of cheers and boos erupted from the crowd. As the night went on, it became very clear that the cheers were outpacing the booing and the excitement level climbed ever higher.
Speeches were made: Gavin McInnes, Taleeb Starkes, even Lord Humongous himself stood up and rallied us all forth. John White gave a great rendition of his song “Dindu Nuffin’” and the chorus became a great sing-along moment.
As the results came in, the bar erupted into an ecstatic fit of pure ecstasy.
As I looked around, I saw Gavin crowd-surfing, everyone jumping up and down and hugging everyone around them, chants of “USA! USA!”, and the distraught looks of passerby on the street as they witnessed our happiness at their timely defeat. We had won, it was hard to believe.
The partying went on until well past 3am.
As things began to die down, Kyle, David, and I snuck out to recharge our tanks at a greek diner nearby. Here we were treated to the distraught looks of CNN anchors on the television and the defeated conversations of our liberally inclined peers at tables around us. We held our heads high, wearing gigantic grins from ear to ear. We had won!
After checking back at the party and saying goodbye to our friends, new and old. The three of us decided to walk back to our hotel room down 9th avenue. Riding the wave of excitement and talking animatedly about what the future held for us.
I was looking around at everything, high on excitement (ok, maybe more than just excitement), when something stopped me dead in my tracks.
“Wait, guys..” I said as I peered through the windows of a 9th ave diner “..is that James O’Keefe?”
“No it’s not, don’t be ridiculous” said Kyle, not even looking. His eyes then tracked to where mine were now locked.
“Oh shit, that’s James O’Keefe”
It was now 4am, and in our inebriated state, we entered the diner somewhat dramatically.
He was sitting with a gorgeous blonde and picking at what appeared to be a club sandwich with turkey (in case you were wondering). When he saw us, he seemed to stiffen up momentarily, seeing the look of recognizance on our faces and perhaps expecting some angry liberals to now confront him here. At this point, Kyle pulled down his MAGA cap, and instantly a more relaxed look came over the man.
“Hey man, sorry to bug you like this, but are you James O’Keefe?” I asked.
He said something to the affirmative and shook each of our hands.
“Hey man, thanks for saving America” said David.
His date (I assume) even recognized us from ProudBoy and we all took a moment to smile about the night’s event before thanking him once again and leaving them in peace. Pretty amazing, but I guess that’s New York for you.
We managed to sleep about 3 hours that night before getting up and dragging our asses to Gavin’s show, which he himself was late for. If you haven’t seen the “day after” episode, it’s worth watching.
All in all, we had an amazing time, met tons of truly outstanding people, and came away feeling like we had all really accomplished something.
Who could ask for a better outcome than all of that?
Uhuru to all, and a hearty Proud of your Boy! Let’s all take a moment to be proud of what we’ve done here, and keep this train rolling right along. Thank you to everyone who came out and supported, we could not have pulled something this incredible off without each and every one of you, and I mean that.