This place has everything: Lights, psychos, Furbies, screaming babies in Mozart wigs, sunburned drifters with soap sud beards. You know, that thing when the hobo becomes a rich man, so they take that big bubble bath?
You got: Slice
Club promoter Gay Liotta is back, and this time he’s… gone… crazy. This place has everything: Twinks, gypsies, grown men in wedding dresses, a cat from a bodega, puppets in disguise. You know, it’s that thing of when Alf wore a trench coat, so he could go out into public.
You got: Twice
This place has everything: Gauze, carnival barkers, groups of guys with afros in graduation caps, human fire hydrants. You know, it’s that thing of when high-waisted midgets have like, the red pants and the big ass.
You got: Taste
Nightlife designer Tranny Griffith is back with an all-new club that answers the question, “Huh?!?” This place has everything: Ice sculptures, winos, Germfs – German smurfs – a Teddy Ruxpin wearing mascara, an old lady wearing Kid ‘N Play hair, and none other than DJ Baby Bok Choy. He’s a giant 300-pound Chinese baby who wears tinted aviator glasses, and he spins records with his little ravioli hands.
You got: Booooooooof
Located at an abandoned orphanage on the Lower Lower East Side of Chelsea, this round-the-clock puke party is creation of narcoleptic club owner Snoozin’ Lucci. This place has everything: Pugs, geezers, doo-wop groups, a wise old turtle that looks like Quincy Jones — and you’ll have your own When Harry Met Sally moment when you share a special kiss with Gizblow, the coked-up gremlin.
You got: OOOOOONTZ
This lower lower East Side dump is the creation of club owner Tranderson Cooper. It finally answers the question, “Do I have to?” This place has everything: Schitzos, kite enthusiasts — and that’s not all! Look who just came in — it’s Blingo! You know…Black Ringo.
You got: Push
This place has everything: Ghosts, banjos, Carl Paladino, a stuck-up kitten who won’t sign autographs, furkels. You know, fat Urkels. After you’ve been with one of those guys, you’ll ask yourself “Did I do thaaaat?’”
You got: Blitzen
This club has everything: 12 jacked albinos, 11 Little Richards, 10 piercer babies, 9 Asian Balkis, 8 gay Aladdins, 7 psychos swearing, 6 PuertoScreechens (Puerto Rican Screeches), 5 homeless Elmos, 4 coked-up frogs, 3 French hens, Tay-lor Ne-gron, and a hu-man park-ing coooooone! You know, that thing of when two jacked midgets paint themselves orange, and you have to parallel park between them.
You got: Wee Little Baby
This place has everything: Freckles, potato people, a room full of Heprechauns – Leprechauns with Hep C. Plus, you can hit the dance floor with a group of Hoombas! You know, human Roombas. It’s that thing of when you put a midget on a skateboard and it slides around on your floor eating garbage.
You got: Your Mother and I Are Separating
Don’t be fooled by the charred Red Lobster sign out front; this club is a burned-down Red Lobster. This place has everything: A shake for breakfast, a shake for lunch, a sensible dinner, those shoes that nurses wear — and you can dance the night away to the sounds of Donald Duck having a Vietnam nightmare.
You got: …Kevin?
Opened at gunpoint in a Lady Footlocker, this Long Island cold spot is managed by infamous gay running back Blowjay Simpson. This place has everything: Soda, purple stuff, Sunny D, and a VIP room for football jellyfish. You know, it’s that thing when NFL players have the helmet, but with skinny dreads hanging out.
You got: Heeyyyyy!
This place has everything: Tweekers, skeevies, Spud Webb, a child, and a Russian guy who runs on a treadmill in a Cosby sweater. Plus, the bouncer’s a bulldog who looks like Wilford Brimley, and the password is “dia-beat-us!”
Broken hearted? Maybe you’ll like something over here instead?
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Which Stefon Club Are You?
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