Chicks with Picks

hola homos. so it's been an eventful coupla weeks. Let's start with Chicks with Picks http://www.chickswithpicks.com.au/gigguide/

This is an evening of entertainment every month at a bargain price of $5 with a free beer thrown in. You have a pub (the Clare Hotel) on Broadway in Sydney, with a bloody difficult entrance. We do not like pubs that are hard to get into. We have better things to do. Jess and I went elsewhere while we waited for someone smarter to navigate their way in first.

After a beverage at a nearby public house, we approached again and noted the signage now artfully displayed to lead us to the lezza den. Left at the pokies and we were in! Beer in hand we staked a claim on some couches and awaited the other Sydney fags.

Now. Speck would want me to discuss the toilets. There was one. One… which left room for a whole lotta line chats. Or barbed insults at the bitch who was currently enjoying emptying her fulsome (HAHA) bladder in the only toilet. After taking longer than a microsecond to do so, I copped a sarcastic "enjoying your pee?” and on leaving the unshagworthy cubicle found the offender to be a friend of a friend. Hahaha. Awkward. For her.

Now, it’s about the artists. The musicians. Rock and roll and all that shit. Fuck no. I was looking (for your sake of course) at the crowd. I haven’t seen so many dykes collectively since Mardi Gras. I was fascinated. There were hipsters hanging off the bar. A few older butches looked like they were camping there, like they weren’t ever gonna get up of that couch again.

I graciously accepted the task of minding seats for a nice young group of ladies going for a fag. Epic fail when I looked away for a second and only managed to save the seat my arse was on…. I was going to disappoint the nice lezzas who had put their trust in me! The other bitches did not appreciate my dilemma! Do I risk enraging the chick who has clearly sat next to me without even a “how you doin’?” by demanding her departure? Or ‘fess up to cute chicks that my witty banter about my preparedness to pretend to be borderline psychotic in order to protect their precious seats was a farce? What if on their return they are infuriated, and claw at my hair with their little short harpy nails???

Crisis averted when interloper went to the bar before hot chicks returned. Task successfully completed I returned to my velour couch to keep gawking. Problem for the Sydney bitches is that invariably at one of these ‘events’ someone’s ex or ex-shag is bound to be there. For the Canberra lezzas this is a whole new territory! Bonus!

All said, Chicks with Picks is worth a look on a Sunday night, especially if lesbian overload is your thing.

Lata lezzas. Enjoy yourself.