Sign up, tune into the things you care about, and get updates as they happen.
Welcome home!
Our Favorite Band - Stop Your Fussin' Lyrics
Never miss a Moment. Structural outline. See what’s happening in the world right now. Join Twitter.com makes heavy use of JavaScript Twitter.com makes heavy use of browser cookies Go to a person's profile Saved searches Promote this Tweet Block Tweet with a location Your lists Create a new list [h3 element with empty heading] Copy link to Tweet this Tweet Embed this Video Preview Why you're seeing this Log in to Twitter for Twitter Not on Twitter? Sign into the things you care about as they happen. Two-way (sending and receiving) short codes: Confirmation Welcome home! Tweets working for you? Say a lot with a little Spread the word Join the conversation Learn the latest Get more of what you love Find what's happening
mrjyn @mrjyn Jul 9 The Monty Hall problem: Suppose you're on a game show, and you're given the choice of three doors: Behind one door is a car; behind the others, goats. You pick a door, say No. 1, and the host, who knows what's behind the doors,... en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monty_Hal …
mrjyn @mrjyn Jul 8 Embarazada is the Spanish word for pregnant. It is a false friend for native English-speakers of Spanish who may attempt to say "I'm embarrassed" by saying "estoy embarazada". This phrase actually means "I'm pregnant" en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Embarazada
mrjyn @mrjyn Jul 7 You've heard of Snapchat and Instagram, but have you ever heard of 'tbh'? It's a new(ish) social networking app, that stands for 'to be honest', and is described as 'an app that encourages young people to be nice to each other' bbc.co.uk/newsround/4165 …
136
2
1.5%
View Tweet activity
There was a problem loading your Tweets. Please reload the page to try again.
You've reached the end of Tweets for the selected date range. Change date selection to view more.
"And they're touring again this summer," Ann offers. "And Mick's just signed up to co-write and produce the Cult's new album, and Meatloaf's and Ozzy Osbourne's . . ."
"I saved Mark's life once," Mick says amiably. "He fell off the boat in the Hamptons, and I dived in after him. James Brown came down from Heaven."
"Isn't James Brown alive?" I say.
Mick's just smiling.
"Why James Brown?"
"No reason, I assure you," says Charlotte, grinning.
Two years ago, the tabloids reported that Mick somehow wound up at Moomba for Paula Jones's celebration of her $850,000 settlement from the president, where Mick pointedly told a reporter, "Me and Mrs. Jones ain't got a thing goin' on!"
"He was never there -- those were staged photographs," Ann insists.
She's opening a bottle of Veuve-Clicquot.
Pop.
"Dahling, would you like some champagne?"
The champagne is geysering to the floor, and Juke, the family dog, who bites, is trotting over to see whether he'd like to lap it up. He turns up his nose.
"I live in festive confusion," Ann says, laughing huskily. Her laugh, to misquote Fitzgerald, is full of money.
Now Mark's coming in with John Forté, the wiry, dreadlocked rapper who's often played with the Fugees. They've started a music-production team together called, cryptically, Epstein & Sons. "Oh, I call everyone Stein," Forté explains. "You know, like Mariah calls everyone Lamb?" Not really.
"My dahling boy!" Ann says, turning up a cheek for Mark. "My numero uno son."
"Hello, Mummy."
"Hello, Mummy," echoes Forté, amused.
"You are coming with us to Moomba, aren't you?"
When we can't all squeeze into Forté's SUV, Samantha and Charlotte run up the street to hail a cab. "Too much family in too small a space," mutters Samantha.
There probably aren't too many families in New York that dine all together at Moomba, a place known for its surreal celebrity tableaux -- say, Jack Nicholson, Mike Tyson, and Jerry Seinfeld all in one evening.
Ann gives the linebackerish bouncer a peck on the cheek. "Hello, dahling!"
We're escorted to the candlelit VIP room upstairs -- it's here that the Ronson children often congregate with others of their kind, a group of young people who are already famous or hell-bent on becoming famous (well, if Gwyneth could do it . . .):
There's Donovan (son of Donovan) Leitch, who captains the much-hyped band Nancy Boy; Ione Skye (his sister), who, at 25, is already the ex-wife of Beastie Boy Adam Horovitz (son of Israel, the playwright); Bijou Phillips, of Papa John, who can currently be seen bare naked in Playboy; leggy model Ivanka Trump, whose mother talks worriedly on Good Morning America about the children of the rich contracting "affluenza" ("Many of these kids with too much money need guidance," Ivana warns); Stella and Lola Schnabel, the latter of whom unfortunately failed to get a gallery show despite efforts by her father (although she's been seen in nightclubs gamely drawing on tables); Cameron Douglas, son of Michael, a D.J.; Drena De Niro, a D.J. -- "They know more about turntables than silverware," a writer observes of this generation of socialites -- and Tatiana von Furstenberg, who runs a SoHo boutique that carries T-shirts by C. Ronson . . .
In her monthly column for Hamptons Country magazine -- "I write as if I'm Patsy from Ab Fab, sweetie darling, if you can't spell it, then it's just not for you" -- Ann wrote about Charlotte and Samantha and some of their closest friends, young society blondes like Lulu Kwiatkowski and Alex Kramer, without ever mentioning who their parents were (herself included); you were just supposed to know.
There was also a "really funny" piece on Charlotte and Samantha "in Tatler," says their brother Mark, "that said if you're 30 years or under and live in New York and you don't know the Ronsons, chances are you should get out of town."
At Moomba, the Ronson-Joneses spread themselves out on a series of plush brown couches. Samantha goes to put on a stack of CDs. "I'm not like my brother; I'm not a turntablist," she says unapologetically, cuing up some of her favorite introspective girl rock. "I'm not a hip-hop D.J. I play the music I like, and yeah, I'll scratch a little bit."
It gets her through parties for Lot 61, One51, and the likes of the giant Hollywood agency CAA. And yet, she says, "people can be so mean. Like when I started to D.J., it was in the paperthat I didn't even know how to turn the sound system on -- and okay, to a degree, yeah -- I wasn't Funkmaster Flex."
The Ronson-Joneses are drinking still more champagne, except for Annabelle and Alexander, who have school. The rest of the family seems to keep somewhat more irregular hours. "This rock wife is up every morning at 6:30!" Ann protests.
Alexandra von Furstenberg comes over to say hello -- "Dahling!" -- and so does someone called Gogo, who wears a cravat.
"People that read WWD and the gossip columns are always asking me, 'What's it like being a real socialite?' " says Mick, a former member of Spooky Tooth. "And I'm like, 'Ah, man, I'm a rock-and-rollah. Anybody with soul is welcome in my house, even people I meet walking the dog.' "
"We do entertain" -- Ann leans over, karma bracelets jangling -- "but we're not groupies, and we're not social climbers. There are a lot of people who come who are high-profile, and then there are some who are not, but we like them. For example, Al Pacino can be sitting next to a great friend of mine who's a wonderful healer -- "
"Or Michael Caine or David Lindley," Mick offers.
"Or," says Ann, "Michael Douglas and his girlfriend, who are really lovey-dopey. And always the children. Whether it's Andy Warhol or a great girl I meet who does manicures at Elizabeth Arden, what I tell the children is, I'm also inviting you to the party, so if you want to join in, you can.
"When Mark was just 2, Keith Moon" -- as in, of the Who -- "taught him to play drums on some stash boxes at our apartment in London," Ann reminisces. That was when she was married to rich real-estate guy Lawrence Ronson, a connected Londoner with a penchant for the company of "rock-and-rollahs. Everybody used to come over, David Bowie, Mick, Keith" -- this time, Richards -- "oh, it was wonderful!" she says.
"Keith" -- now Moon -- "had a lot of excess problems in those days -- but then, none of us were saints," she adds, low.
Subscribe now: http://bit.ly/Subscribe-to-Noisey FATTY BOOM BOOM is a bright and colourful African adventure, complete with wild animals, zef savages singing and dancing in the streets, and a special guest appearance by a sneaky little prawn star. Die Antwoord Respond to Fatty Boom Boom: http://bit.ly/1ptbNVM FATTY BOOM BOOM - Music video Artist: Die Antwoord Album: TEN$ION Label: ZEF RECORDZ Music video and story concept by Ninja and Yo-landi Vi$$er Executive producers: Eddy Moretti, Trevor Silmser, Sterling Proffer, Ninja and Yo-landi Vi$$er Produced by ZEF FILMZ in association with Egg Films, Battalion and VICE Directed by Ninja, Terence Neale and Saki Fokken Bergh Director of Photography: Alexis Zabe Edited by Saki Fokken Berg at Left Post Production Producer Julia Schnurr Music and sound design by DJ HI-TEK Costumes designed by Ninja Costumes / wardrobe created and sourced by Gabrielle De Gersigny Ninja and Yo-landi's black human hair garments by Alexander Wang Set designs, mural designs, and graffiti by Ninja Ninja's graffiti based on the work of Roger Ballen Voodoo Room - art directed by Roger Ballen Art department: Kezia Eales Make-up and body-paint design by Ninja Make-up artist: Alexa Wilson 'GIRL I WANT TO EAT YOU' background track in Big 5 tour bus by Die Antwoord Vagina Prawn scene based on 'Black Gynaecologist' by Anton Kannemeyer Dance choreography/dancing by Ninja, Yo-landi, Manti, Tarryn and Robin Wild animals wrangled by Rodney Nombekana and Andile Nombekana Animatronic lion head by the Creature Shop Camera and grips equipment courtesy of Panavision Lighting equipment courtesy of Media Film Service Flame and grading by Left Post Production Additional flame and grading by Blade Guest starring: Kagiso Lediga as the Gynaecologist / Dentist Dave Kibuuka as the African tour guide Daniel Isele as DJ Hi-Tek on da drumz And Ali Ooop as 'U know who!' Titles, Promo art, DA buckhead monogram, Battalion logo / bakkie, Big 5 tour bus and Dr Lediga's Penis Enlargement Cream label designed by Poesbek: The Master Of The Known Universe FATTY BOOM BOOM - (lyrix) YO HI-TEK U FINK U CAN FUCK WIF SUMMIN LIKE DIS? YO WHATCHOO MEAN SUMMING LIKE DIS? JA DAT'S SPIF YO-LANDI DO DAT FING HEY FATTY BOOM BOOM, HIT ME WIF DA CHING CHING FAT POCKET CLINKING, DOLLAR EYE TWINKLING JEEZ DA BEATS SO CHUNKY, ME'SA GETTING FUNKY OOOH! WHEN I'M ON DA MIC IT'S LIKE MURDER MURDER MURDER! KILL KILL KILL! WAT SE ZUID AFRIKA? SUIG MY FOKKEN PIEL! HIER KOM EK WEER, LIKE A LEKKER SMACK IN DA FACE RAPPERS ARE FUCKIN BORING, NINJA BASHING DERE BRAINZ WHAT HAPPENED 2 ALL THE DA KOOL RAPPERZ FROM BACK IN IN DA DAY? NOWAWAYZ ALL DEZE RAPPERZ SOUND EXACTLY DA SAME IT'S LIKE 1 BIG INBRED FUCK-FEST! SIES! NO I DO NOT WANNA STOP, COLLABORATE OR LISTEN JIMMY JIMMY JIMMY, HOLD ON 2 YOR CHING I'M TAKING OVER AMERIKA, BLOWING UP EVERYFING PHYSICALLY FIT DAT NINJA VERY ENERGETIC IF U HAVEN'T GOT IT BY NOW, YO U NEVER GONNA GET IT I WHIP MY DICK OUT AND PISS ON ALL DIS HORRIBLE FOKKEN RAP GOT A OFFSHORE ACCOUNT FOR DA DOLLAR BILLZ DAT I STACK YO FUCK RAP! I'M SORRY MY CHINA, WE NOT RELATED I COME MAD FRESH LIKE DA 1ST TIME I EJACULATED HEY FATTY BOOM BOOM, HIT ME WIF DA CHING CHING FAT POCKET CLINKING, DOLLAR EYE TWINKLING JEEZ DA BEATS SO CHUNKY, ME'SA GETTING FUNKY OOOH! OOOH! HEY FATTY BOOM BOOM, HIT ME WIF DA CHING CHING FAT POCKET CLINKING, DOLLAR EYE TWINKLING JEEZ DA BEATS SO CHUNKY, ME'SA GETTING FUNKY OOOH! HI MY NAME IS...YO-LANDI FOKKEN VI$$ER! FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT! KICK U IN DA TEETH, HIT U ON DA HEAD WIF DA MIC DERE'Z A RUMBLE IN DA JUNGLE, I'M BUBBLING 2 DA BEAT I'M NOT LOOKING 4 TROUBLE BUT TROUBLEZ LOOKING FOR ME MY POCKETS R FOKKEN SWOLLEN, BUT NUFFING JUS CUM 4 FREE I USED 2 BEG BORROW OR STEAL JUS 2 HUSTLE SUMFING 2 EAT SOUF AFRIKA USED 2 B 2 DWANKY 2 NOTICE ME SUDDENLY U INTERESTED COZ WE BLOWING UP OVERSEAZ MAKING MONEY MONEY MONEY! YES YES YES! ZEFSIDE REPRESENT! U FUCKING WIF DA BEST! I'M A UPPER! DWANKIEZ GET POPPED LIKE A SUCKER BAKA! BAKA! YIPPEE-KAI-YAY MUDDAFUCKA! I'M A BIG DEAL! YO CRAZY MONEY GET THROWN AT ME NOW I'M HAVING SO MUCH FUN DAT I CAN'T EVEN GO 2 SLEEP! YO-LANDI! WHAT? WHERE U AT? HERE I AM! SPITTING FOKKEN LYRIX LIKE BAM BAM BAM! HEY FATTY BOOM BOOM, HIT ME WIF DA CHING CHING FAT POCKET CLINKING, DOLLAR EYE TWINKLING JEEZ DA BEATS SO CHUNKY, ME'SA GETTING FUNKY OOOH! OOOH! HEY FATTY BOOM BOOM, HIT ME WIF DA CHING CHING FAT POCKET CLINKING, DOLLAR EYE TWINKLING JEEZ DA BEATS SO CHUNKY, ME'SA GETTING FUNKY OOOH! OOH! HEY FATTY BOOM BOOM, HIT ME WIF DA CHING CHING FAT POCKET CLINKING, DOLLAR EYE TWINKLING JEEZ DA BEATS SO CHUNKY, ME'SA GETTING FUNKY OOOH! OOH! JEEZIZ OU! CHILL NET N BIETJIE FOKKEN UIT! WHATEVER MAN... happy end **
Never miss a Moment
