Blast of Silence

This past Friday Chicago’s Metro played host to a sold out crowd of total lesbos in honor of the final performance of The Chicago Kings: Chicago’s premier drag king ensemble.  Sharing the bill was North Carolinian king troupe The Cuntry Kings, featuring the talents of my friend Carrie.  Such a night of hot sweaty Chicago-on-Carolina action was certainly not to be missed by this Male Gazer!  I arrived at 10:00 in the company of my aide-de-camp Irvin Lawrence Carsten III, whose woolly beard was the envy of all present.  We got standing-room in the mezzanine and tucked in for a H-O-T evening of gender performance.  The evening got off to a rip-roaring start with the classic butch-femme comedy stylings of Maxwell and Jessica.  Typical banter:

"Who likes vagina!????"

"That last act made my panties wet!"

"Who here majored in women’s studies!!???"

The acts themselves were honestly, very impressive.  The Chicago crew was hilarious, frequently rising above the boy-camp I was expecting, even lip-synching to The Avalanches crazy sample bonanza Frontier Psychiatrist.

The Cuntry Kings killed.  Every piece was like a candy-coated editorial cartoon fed to you by a wiccan pep-squad.

Criticism corner:  9 out of 10 Drag Kings still look like this guy.

After the show Irv and I met up with Carrie and his high School friend Sara.  We spoke for 2 minutes before we were promptly snubbed for hot bois and marooned on the dancefloor.  I spent the next 20 minutes trying to dance to ringtone techno and getting elbowed by snarly genderqueers who really should have excused xemselves.

At the end of the night Irv and I were voted 8th cutest couple right behind Dirk Thruster and Lil’ Toolbelt.  Such fun!

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