Start your Friday night with a trip to the "lucha libre" double-feature tonight at Liberty Hall to see the great Mexican wrestler/superhero El Santo fight monsters and she-wolves. It's sponsored by Kansas Public Radio's "retro cocktail hour," which serves up "lounge, exotica, and bachelor pad music" for hipsters who prefer martinis and kitschy films to PBR and indie bands.
Afterwards, steer clear of the Haulin' Oats and Flight of the Dodos show at the Bottleneck (where local bands cover Hall and Oates and Flight of the Conchords). The fact that the show has moved from the Replay to the Bottleneck means that it has gone mainstream and might well cost you as much as five dollars, which no self-respecting hipster will pay to see local bands. Instead, consider Cl.thier's monthly Yacht Club gig. Just ask him to play his hippest song--and to please substitute DBT (Drive by Truckers) for DMB (Dave Matthews Band), unless of course there are dancing sorostitutes willing to toss their panties onstage at the first notes of "What Would You Say."
As for Saturday, don't think for a minute that kickball is the only ridiculous 'sport' beginning its season this weekend. The KC Roller Warriors (women's roller derby) kick off their season with a program titled "House of 1000 Stalkers," featuring all the usual shenanigans and afterparties that one has come to expect. Here's a photo:
Actually, that's Raquel Welch from the film Kansas City Bomber.
Here's an actual picture of a KC Roller Warrior from their website. Her name is "Stiletto Snake":
Chip: "I don't know if I'm scared or aroused. Scared, I think."
6 comments:
I enjoy roller derby:
Shit-kicking, hot women with a take charge kinda attitude that just says: "Look at me K!p and I will crush your nuts into a pasty goo." makes me all happy in the pantsexual zone. Plus, they're on wheels. That's always a nice touch.
It's the sorta feminism I think the blog ought to report on more frequently. In that, there are females (on wheels!) and I consider it an ideology to enjoy women (on wheels!).
As for The Cloth's show, Herr Cloth!er should never play any such hipster bullshit. A Cloth!er show should be about two things and two things only: 1.) Getting K!p drunk enough that he goes into bathroom stalls to look at other men's dicks and 2.) Making the women who largely constitute the body of his audience absolutely dripping wet in their thongs underswear... which they will eventual deposit at his feet as a token of their worthiness... oh which they are not as The Cloth has the ultimate hot mama wife. A woman both mother and sex panther... we all bow before his might and sexual prowess.
Nevertheless, I think what's important here is to continue the crusade to have a bulldozer plow through the Replay as soon as possible and erect a beautiful new roller rink where naked women on wheels can dance and play to all's merriment. I would say one could knock down Q's and do the same... but there's really just not enough space, and I would hate to detract from the Dempsey's crowd. Knocking down the Replay would ensure that not only would enough space be available, but the lofts that overlook the former Replay could now double their rent as renters facing the once pit of the replay could now look at boobs on wheels, all day and all night.
--It is a glorious dream.
I second the motion to substitute DBT in lieu of effing DMB. Instead of sorostitutes throwing their wet underthings at Cl.thier, it would be worldly, sophisticated, musically-intelligent hot chicks throwing their underthings at him (well, maybe not "throwing" as much as giving him a nod and a wink), and really now, isn't that better (and safer) for everyone (and their marriages to hot mama sex panthers)???
I think we might be in the wrong part of the country to expect throngs of women to go crazy about a DBT song, alas.
Actually, when I saw DBT at the Granada, there were a surprising amount of women who seemed sorostitute-ish but with a definite redneck vibe. I felt like I was back in Arkansas!
Bring it on, Cl.thier. If you play the Southern Rock Opera, we'll all get laid!
The Cloth Show DEMANDS wet, stanky underlinens delivered to his feet where minions such as Noggle and Nog's undersmithy, K!p, will collect them for his trophy gallery.
It is also the mission of the Cloth's manbitches to collect the sorostitual bitch-bitches and dispose of them, and their juices, properly.
--Hence, Ft. Scott has a breeding population.
I will do my best! The "tip" jar is being prepared as we speak.
"Just the tip."
"Dead, drunk, and naked."
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