Build Date: Tue Mar 5 13:20:05 2024 UTC

There is no beer in space. That really pisses me off.
-- Johnnie Royale

Three Words: Guerrilla Queer Bar

by Mr. Bad

2000-10-27 00:27:03

So, you're gayer than an Easter parade, you like to drink, you live in San Francisco, and you're sick of the constant dumbing-down of the Most Wonderful City Ever Invented. What do you do? You got it: Guerrilla Queer Bar.

The folks who organize, so to speak, the Guerrilla Queer Bar call it "Part street party, part anti-gentrification protest act, and part guerrilla theater." The deal works like this:

Take your average horrible disgusting yuppie bar in the City. You know, the kind with guys with ties or blue denim-y button downs with the company logo ("Broccoli.com") over the breast pocket. All the women are wearing LBDs or Corporate Cyber Wear (TM). There are potentially rugby shirts in the house. There's lite alterna-rock playing in the background. It's vapid. It's an insult to your intelligence. It's a cauliflower-sized goiter on the World's Most Fabulous City. Nauseous yet?

Now, imagine a SURPRISE VISIT by a huge crowd of BIG FREEEEKS and CRAZY FAGS and the people who love them. Add leather and drag queens and pumping music. Think BIG HAIR. Think CHAPS. Now, get them STINKERS DRUNK. LEWD DANCING ensues. Much crazy kissing between folks with 3-day beards. Beaujolais!

I just got to say I love this Guerrilla Queer Bar idea. Actually, I like any guerrilla idea. And BARS are pretty great, too. And making people squirm. These are all concepts I stand strongly behind. Beaujolais for Guerrilla Queer Bar!

Over.  End of Story.  Go home now.

junkyarddog@pigdog.org

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