Because fatigue and nostalgia go hand in hand (or some such bullshit equivocation) enjoy this classic edition of 'What Have I Done?' (this column's original title), originally printed July 14, 2004.
And tune back in next week for a big issue filled with DJ Res-5's amazing coverage of the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving. I'm betting most of you won't remember the revelry. You're welcome.
Writing this column is proving to be more and more difficult. Once people know that I am the guy who writes it, they invariably come to me with bits of delicious information and then proceed to tell me it's 'off the record.' It's as if I am being tested by the gods of journalism. I'm getting weak.
Anyway, on that note, all I can say is that a very happy change (or change back to the way it was, before the city became asshole-ish) is comin' for a certain local fav bar.
What, I didn't say anything.
Here's a happy Pride memory: After riding on the float, getting all sweaty and drunk and flirtatious, I took the day off the following Monday. Tuesday, I get in to work and listen to a drunk-dial message on my voice mail from a certain crooner who rode the float with me. Apparently, he thought it was my cell phone. Can't tell what he said, but let's say I'd wished I was in the office at midnight Monday when the call came in!
Here's a warning to the men's community—start doing fun and crazy shit like the girls. Girlesque Burlesque, put on by Sissy Butch Bros. is a prime example. Check out the Spotlight on page 26 [See that link to the pdf in the top red bar? You know what to do.] for all the scoop. Also, see page 12 for a scandalous shot of the Hellcat Hussies, who will be performing in Girlesque Burlesque. They are a fat girls burlesque troupe. And if you bristle at my use of the word fat, open your fucking mind; they're fat and phenomenal. Check them out at Spot 6 on Clark for a good time.
While sitting at Clark's, chatting up a new friend, a huge guy fell off a bar stool. As he lay motionless, my friend and I stood on edge. Was he OK? Was he moving? Eventually he did move and, thank God! We had so many bitchy things to say about the situation. You know, the kind of things that, if he were dead, we would have felt really bad for. When he hit the floor, it was like that scene from Jurassic Park, with the ripples in the glass of water. Substitute beer for water and you'll catch my drift.
To Juan at Madrigal's— don't hide your light under a bushel basket. Let it shine. The Latin invasion ain't over, ya know!
On a serious note, I want you all to think good thoughts, even pray if that's your thing, for Miss Stella, who has been banished to bedrest after an adverse reaction to medication. If I know her, she itching pretty hard to get back up on her feet. Make sure you show up to all the Stella Productions in the next few weeks to show your support. I know I will.
kirk@windycitymediagroup.com
