If you’re looking for a good time, look no further: New York’s hottest club is Crease. Club promoter Tranny Oakley has gone all out, and inside it’s just everything: lights, psychos, Furbies, screaming babies in Mozart wigs, sunburnt drifters with soapsuds beards…It’s that thing where a hobo becomes a rich man, so they take the big bubble bath.
New York’s hottest club is Wesh. Nine-year-old Tokyo pimp Ichiaku Guru is back with an all-new hot spot that answers the question What?!? This place has everything: trance, stilts, throw-up music, an albino that looks like Susan Powder, Teddy Graham people…It’s the thing, like when a guy has stumpy arms, but with the belly.
If you want fun, then listen to this: New York’s hottest club is Slice. Club promoter Gay Liotta is back, and this time he’s gone crazy. Jump in and join a dance party where you’ll see twinks, gypsies, grown men in wedding dresses, a cat from a bodega, puppets in disguise…It’s that thing like when Alf wore a trench coat, so he could go out into public.
New York’s hottest club is Slash. This place has everything: glass, steam, bear traps, and just when you think the fun is over, knock knock who’s there? It’s Black George Washington! All that, and a party room filled with human bathmats…It’s that thing like when midgets have dreadlocks and they lay faced down on the floor.
New York’s hottest club is Taste. Nightlife designer Tranny Griffith is back with an all-new club that answers the question Huh?!? Don’t look for a bouncer – there isn’t one. Instead the door’s guarded by ten jacked homeless guys in old-fashioned bathing suits. And inside it’s just sick: ice sculptures, winos, Germufs – 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.
New York’s hottest club is Ounce. Located in the middle of the East River, this place has everything: cholos, puke people, a sheepdog that looks like Bruce Vilanch, and an entire room of puppets doing karate…It’s that thing where someone calls Miss Piggy fat and she goes, “High ya!”
New York’s hottest holiday club is Blitzen, and right now they’re having their 12 Days of Christmas dance party. It has everything: 12 jacked albinos, 11 Little Richards, 10 piercer babies, 9 Asian Balkis, 8 gay Aladdins, 7 psychos swearing, 6 Puerto Screechers, 5 homeless Elmos. 4 coked up frogs, 3 French hens, Taylor Negron, and a human parking cone…It’s that thing were two jacked midgets paint themselves orange and you have to parallel park between them.
I have the perfect spot. New York’s hottest club is BOOOOOOOOOF. Located in an abandoned orphanage in the Lower East Side of Chelsea, this round-the-clock puke party is the creation of narcoleptic club owner Snoozan Lucci, and 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. I’ll have what she’s having.
If you want your mom to have a day filled with fun, look no further. New York’s hottest club is UHHNNNH. Located in the middle of the West Side Highway, this bi-curious beach party is the creation of Italian club owner Bologna Danza, and this place has everything: split kicks, pachucos, pile after pile of expired Lunchables, a Hawaiian cleaning lady that looks like Smokey Robinson…and look who just walked in, is that Natalie Portman? No, it’s an old Irish black man that we call Murphy Brown. Plus, if you come this Sunday you’ll meet two-year-old ultimate fighter Drooly Lips Jackson. He’s got fists like little empanadas and he is my best friend.
If you’re looking to get festive with your family, I’ve got the perfect place for you. New York’s hottest club is Heyyyyyy! Built from the bucket list of a dying pervert, this Battery Park bitch parade is now managed by overweight game show host Fat Sajak. This place has everything: tweakers, skeevies, Spud Webb, a child, and a Russian guy who runs on the treadmill in a Cosby sweater. So come on down this weekend — the bouncer is a bulldog who looks like Wilford Brimley and the password is “diabeetus.”
If you’re ordinary or love salt, I’ve got just the spot for you. New York’s hottest holiday club is BAAAAAAA-BAANAM. Opened and condemned in 1904, this seasonal psycho ward is the creation of Hanukkah cartoon character Menorah the Explorer, and this place has everything: Kiwis, Spud Webb, Clio Awards, some guy’s mom, plus a special showing of the African holiday classic A Fish Called Kwanza. Look who just walked in — it’s a lady who works at CVS, but do not bother her because she is on break. And all the proceeds go to charity — flaccid outreach group Doctors Without Boners.
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