Free Radio SF

So they decided to pay us in liquor. Thanks a lot Katy Bell.

Last night I judged a "talent show" at 12 Galaxies in SF. The Spass Guerilla was hosted by the fine and fabulous Katy Bell of Cyclecide, and Porn Clown Posse. She had all the essentials in place: leiderhosen, high-heeled converse high-tops. Yep. I judged the performances along with my compadre from this years Power Tool Drag Races, Mikl-em. He's cheeky. We also grabbed a delightful Ranessa from the crowd to balance out all the testosterone brewing up on the stage. Katy gave us a gong to employ if any of the contestants got unruly. It wasn't the contestants we were concerned with. The judges got more boos than anyone last night.

As I said, we were paid in liquor.

I don't remember much, but what I do recall was very, very ugly. Charles Bronson ugly. The kind of ugly that very hot water won't get off of you. More liquor might. Yes, it might do fine actually.

The show started off well enough. Some Irishman decided to croon some ballad. We felt bad for his gimpy leg, so we let him continue. Into his second song, a drinking song as a matter of fact, we gave him the boot, er, that is, gong. It was at this point the audience lost confidence in us. They threatened revenge. I spit on them. More drinks were delivered.

I think Dittmar, the comediene was up next. She rubbed her belly on my face. Not really, but she wanted to. she actually sang quite a fine song about how hard it is to be a comediene, and did recieve a zerbert on her stomach from Ranessa. The crowd called for her to "show us your tits", which she would have done if there were more people there, I'm sure, but as there were only about 20 in the audience, she reserved them for a higher class crowd. I don't blame her. 

The next few acts were a bit of a blur. I recall a sax player who really was waiting for us to gong him. The crowd really wanted us to gong him. We knew this, and decided to make it hard on all of them. We waited until just the right moment: refill time. 

In between acts Katy Bell would come up and make some comment about the act, and how damn good they were about to be. She would attempt to shut up the judges, who were more interested in gettiing "paid" then actually judging. We were pretty good, but I thought she would be interested in getting our reaction to the acts. I was proven wrong...as usual. 

It was hard to see the audience, but I know they were there, I got pelted with an empty beer glass, and I know I heard a belch come from that general direction.

Two more comediens appeared, both of whom were really disappointed that we gonged them. Guys, you really sucked. We kept stealing the set-list from one of them. He didn't seem to appreciate it. Where's his sense of humor?

The act I really enjoyed was this couple dressed up in brides-maid dresses, doing an interpretive dance to Kate Bush. They followed it up with a black face painted tribal stomp, complete with hooting and hollering at the moon. Karlacki (or something like that).

The last act was a monkey dressed wench who threw frosted cake at everyone. And I do mean everyone. Luckily, the judges were given plastic bags for our heads for this melee. It didn't really work though. Mikl was covered, and ended up breaking his glasses. He also lost his wallet, so if anyone finds it, please give it to Robert or Cat at 12 Galaxies, so he can get it back. He may have insulted the hell out of you, but it was out of love.

Our plan was to play the American Idol judges, but really drunk, as opposed to really, really drunk. Mikl was to be Paula.

The stage and floor were covered in cake and frosting. There was a lot of slipping, and cursing, and running and falling. I smell like butter today.

Following the show, I noted to Katy that this reminded me of the halcyon days of the First Church of the Bleeding Ulcer, which Chicken John founded. We would have about a dozen or so slackers at the show, and one of us would give a "real" sermon. After about three months, we were packing the place. It became huge. Local SF prostitutes adopted it, and called it the "Whore Church", and did weekly semons for about five years. Chicken also started the weekly "You Asked For It". A different game show every week: You Lost in Jeopordy, Wheel of Misfortune, Steal Geekboy's Liquor. All of these shows started off with little attendance. After a few weeks though, word spread, and the events got huge. We always needed to move to larger locations. Chicken opened his own bar: The Odeon, just to put on his own shows. It got to be too stressful, but now he's turned his home into a great performance space.

Last night was the kind of night you wish you were at. Everyone had a hilarious time. You'll lie your ass of and tell everyone you were there. I hope your stories can live up to the truth.

SPASSGUERILLA
with Emcee Katy Bell
Judges TBA
and DJ Jef Leopard!
Tuesday June 12th
Music at 8:30 PM | Show at 9:30 PM
12 Galaxies, 2562 Mission Street, San Francisco, CA
$5 admission