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Feature Story July 24, 2003
 
Feis The Music! Buns Moons Moscow Nightclubs
By Mark Ames Browse author Email
 
Page 3 of 7
 
A silver four-door Mercedes sedan was hired for the night to take Buns, the two models and the Negro bodyguard. To complete the entourage, an off-duty ORT cameraman and a Russian photojournalist would follow in a taxi behind the Merc.

The two-car entourage was headed by the ultimate symbol of Stardom: a cop car.

eXtreme Buns!

An eXile photo essay
by Lyosha Matveev

Right, the $300 backseat girl just before Buns strikes out.

Right, the $300 backseat girl just before Buns strikes out.

Just another chick trying to bask in Buns’ glory. Get outta here!

Just another chick trying to bask in Buns’ glory. Get outta here!

“I’ll never wash this hand again!” Buns enjoys Shambala.

“I’ll never wash this hand again!” Buns enjoys Shambala.

Busted! Shambala art director Misha kisses Buns’ hand.

Busted! Shambala art director Misha kisses Buns’ hand.

A Star Is Born

We gathered at Shifrin's just before midnight on Saturday for the final assault. The War Room was in a state of total anarchy when I arrived, pouring sweat from too many energy drinks. Everyone was nervous and excited because we had the feeling, looking at the players gathered, that it might actually work. The elements had actually fallen into place.

Now it was time to set the ball rolling.

First, we selected from a list of the most brutal feis kontrol clubs in Moscow, narrowing it down to three in this order: Shambala, First, and Tseppelin.

Next, Schliefer, as PR extraordinaire Jelly Kowitz, called each of the clubs to warn them that Buns McGillicuddy was coming. We waited to make this call so that the club directors wouldn't have enough time to check up on the Buns story, and because, hell, that's just what stars do.

Schliefer, wearing a black Hugo Boss suit he'd just bought for a wedding, black horn-rimmed glasses and a purple silky Hugo Boss dress shirt, looking like a Hebraic Colin Farrell from Phone Booth, called Shambala and demanded to speak to their art director.

"Listen, my client, Buns McGillicuddy, whom you probably have heard of and I don't need to explain to you who he is, he's in Moscow taking a rest, getting away from New York and all the paparazzi, and he wants to visit a few clubs tonight. He has a new single out. We would like to come to Shambala, we've been told it's not a bad place. Buns wants to get a feel of the Moscow sound."

The art director was taken in. "Okay, okay."

"I want to warn you to make sure that everything goes smoothly because Buns is tired from the trip and he doesn't like waiting."

"Okay, sure!"

"We have a few people with us, his girlfriends, his bodyguard, a TV crew and so on, so I want to make sure there are no hassles."

"No, we'll take care of you, no problem."

"We have a few other requests. Buns has a guest list, and it's not small," Shliefer said. It was true: I had just printed out a dense two-column list of surnames taken from the FBI's Ten Most Wanted List, 22 Most Wanted Terrorist List (one name read "Laden +2"), and 25 Missing Children's List. "Buns also likes chocolate martinis. You can make chocolate martinis, right? Chocolate martinis for his entourage. He also doesn't like being with too many people. Can you put us in a VIP zone where there aren't too many people around? He's going to want to hear his new single. He'll bring it for you. Buns likes hearing his music to see people's reactions."


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Ames
Browse author
Email Mark Ames at editor@exile.ru.
 
 
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