Yep, It's possible that I (Skoot) am finally appearing in type on the much coveted blog site, If We Rate It, She Will COME!
An adventure kicked off over 6 months ago, back when we even wore jumpers in Newcastle (die Winter die!), and has encompassed much cavorting and many shenanigans in the far flung corners, seedy pubs, clubs, and occasional farmers markets, of the world.
Basically, I haven't provided a rating to date cause I'm kind of lazy when it comes to venues. Don't get me wrong, I love going out, but hey, in the extreme light and shade of my nature I'm generally either disappointed, and therefore on to the next quest for entertainment, or a fucking great time was had by all and that requires me to spend a fair proportion of the next day/week/year in bed recovering (or not).
Anyway, I'm already getting slightly bored with writing this so I'll get on with it:
Establishment: The Den of Depravity (the Den).
Date: 25th December 2010.
Time: 5pm-sometime the next morning...
Drunkenness: Well, I hit up a whole 1.25ltrs of coke zero, and everyone else was drinking something, but I forgot to pay attention to how much...
Density: Panic Attack (to qualify there were only a small number of women there but they were all hot, and all into sexing grrrls).
Quality: definitely Cuntstruck.
Types: self confessed nerds, subourbanites, fangbangers, foodies, skaters, tats n pierced, writers, to name a few labels.
Engagement: oooh yeah...
Food/Drink: the bestest dinner, and breakfast ever!
Service: with a smile.
Toilet: Shagworthy, and from previous experience I know that three women fit in the shower at the same time quite comfortably.
Score: OK, what goes on in the den of depravity stays in the den of depravity, if you insist on knowing more, email your number (and a picture of yourself) to ilygsmbwsn@gmail.com and we may get back to you.
What can I say about the Den? The fact this is a private venue (invite only) affords it hedonistic overtones, a made to order menu of events, happenings, and hanging outs, and a patronage of fine dining/diners. It has quickly become one of my favourite places to be in the 'berra.
What made December the 25th at the Den particularly memorable for this skooter was the long standing tradition of 'birthday celebration' events. Now I'm not Jesus, but given the close proximity of my birthday to the annual feast of turkey, the other patrons in attendance took it upon themselves to lavish me with*** this section has been removed by the editor due to the explicit nature of the content ***
This is a rundown of my recent travels by night in New York and San Francisco. I’m sure you understand there were more adventures than I’m willing to share so this will be a review of the regular girl parties I attended, minus a few intimate details...
Be wary that if you are off on a trip to the USA, the parties and venues do change. The scene is competitive and new events are added all the time.
No sleep for Indie in New York City
Arriving in New York from Philadelphia on a bus, I promptly got lost using the subway, eventually found my backpackers, dropped my luggage and went out for food and drinks, of course. I didn’t know a soul but I had done my Google search: “lesbian New York” and found out that on Tuesday nights there was Snapshot in Union Square. Internet. Amazing stuff. My plan was to party Tuesday through Saturday and see as much of this crazy massive city. No time for sleep on this adventure.
TUESDAYS: Snapshot Bar 13 in Union Square 13th Street at University Place
Walked into Bar 13 and ordered a beer. I was obviously too early. There was a mixed crowd. I heard some dude say he loved being here on Tuesday nights: I think he was referring to the fact that there was a trickle of our lesbifriends walking in. It never got packed that night, but it does at times I’ve heard and they have special events. As far as I’m concerned, if anything at all is happening and I can get a drink all night on a Tuesday, I’m one happy Kiwi. Another girl was by herself at the bar. She was from Amsterdam. Hmmm...promising…until she left to head to another lesbo bar, Henrietta Hudson, to get hit on by oldbians. I ended up chatting to the bartender, the professional lesbian, Sabrina. Turns out Sabrina is quite the local celesbian and is one of the frontrunners in lesbian party promoting in New York. Sabrina gave me a list of night spots for my stay in the city and I was set. I read on AfterEllen.com once I got home to Canberra that there was an Evan Rachel Wood sighting at Snapshot the night I was there. I didn’t notice. Uncanny really, since I’m a big fan of lesbian vampires. I must have been distracted. All I know is that I was there until closing and found myself getting lost on the subway at 3am and entering a completely deserted Times Square in my attempt to find ‘home’. Never thought I’d find an empty place in New York.
WEDNESDAYS: Crème de la Femme Union Square Lounge, below the Coffee Shop 30 E 16th Street (at Union Square West)
Crème de la Femme is a Sabrina creation, along with her “twin” Nikki and Maggie C. It was their intention to provide a party for women that played music beyond top 40 and the expectation that the girls would dress better than in flannel – you’re in the big city now, sweetheart, “dress to impress”. As a result it is a little on the pretentious side, but that’s probably all good if you’re with your posse. A little old kiwi and outsider found it hard to get in with these classy ladies. But then again, I’ve always liked them a little rougher around the edges. New York isn’t all class and the seedy underbelly is just as fun, which I found the following night – it is far too incomprehensible in my head to put into text. Sorry ladyfags, that one is all mine.
FRIDAYS: Lesbo-A-Go-Go Stonewall Inn 53 Christopher Street
That’s right, the Stonewall. Boys downstairs. Girls upstairs. Sabrina on bar. Go-go girls on the stage. Go-go girls. Seriously need them in Australia. It ain’t a girl night without them. So Stonewall is a massive historic landmark for the gays (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stonewall_riots). Pretty sure I thought it would be a good idea to make my mark on this landmark by having sex in the toilets, or at least try... Sometimes I’m not so smart. These toilets were definitely not up to Speck's shagability rating.
New York is full of all of the stuff. There’s something for everyone: the ‘A’ list lesbo at Crème, the slutty lesbo at The Cubbyhole, the hipster in East Village, the crack whore and her band downstairs at The Delancey. There’s nothing like this place.
San Francisco, be sure to wear flowers in your hair
I was sad to leave NYC so soon but I know I’ll be back. I’m a beatnik at heart so San Fran was for me but I won’t bore you with the details of my obsession for Jack Kerouac and the City Lights bookshop.
You’re not really gay until you know about the Castro, the gay rights movement and Harvey Milk. Seriously, watch the freaking movie if you know nothing. Yes, the Castro is definitely boys town – think Oxford Street but smaller with rainbow flags lining the street. Most of the clubs are mixed but there are some definitely strictly men zones and there are girl night dance parties in the Castro. The only lesbian bar in San Fran is in the Mission: dirtier, poorer and hipsterish compared to the neighbouring Castro. The Mission is drug-laden with Hispanic gangs, thrift stores and secondhand books. Dirty, run down: so Indie. It’s where I stayed for a week. (Get the lowdown in Michelle Tea novels like Valencia.) The lesbian bar, The Lexington Club (3464 19th Street), is a dive bar with a jukebox and pool table. It's pretty small and can be found on a side street between Valencia and Mission. There were a bunch of regulars who were not too hard to have a chat to. ‘The Lex’ is your “friendly neighbourhood dyke bar”. NEVER KNEW SUCH A THING EXISTED!
I arrived in San Francisco totally hungover from my night at Stonewall in New York. I hadn’t slept except for the times I passed out in the airport and on the plane and on the BART train in San Fran...I’m lucky I got to my hostel at all. I was so tired but I had to do it. I had to see San Fran lesbians on a Saturday night. There was a party called Cockblock on. Gotta say, not keen on the name. This party’s major draw card is that if you pay a little more on entry you get a cup and endless amounts of beer refills. Messssssy! And these girls GRIND! They don’t dance. I’m sorry, I don’t know your name and we’re not hooking up yet and I’m not sure that we’re gonna, so why are we grinding? I felt like a 13 year old again, pressed up against some unknown teenage boy. Yes, I was that uncomfortable with this. Look, if you wanna get that close to me, we’ll just go out in the alley and have a root, okay?
I don’t care that the music sucked, yes, let’s listen to Rihanna over and over again, because this party rocked. It’s brand new in the Castro and it’s taking over the whole girl scene apparently. Pretty sophisticated really considering how completely slutty the whole affair was. I don’t know how slutty can be sophisticated but it just was. Three or four go- go dancers on the bar with one in a cage in the centre of the bar. And they were HOT!!! Yes, I objectify women. SO FUCKING WHAT?! My poor little eyes didn’t know where to look. The music can suck if I’ve got plenty of entertainment. Sorry Lesbo-a-Go-Go, for dancers Trigger has it going on and is a party above the rest. The place was packed, everyone was drunk, and I was starting to get the hang of this grinding thing by the end of the night. It’s a shame to get kicked out at 2am. But that’s pretty normal in America. I plan on bringing this to little ol’ Canberra.
That's enough of my shenanigans for now. Happy summer loving lesbos. More from us in that place that you know and love, Canberra, soon.
So Indie and Charlie went to the Ball. One in a frock and one in a suit. This year Indie was the only chick in a suit. Suffice to say, we got some attention. In the bathrooms, on the dancefloor, by the oldbians, by the babydykes, by the grads.... I'll let Indie fill you in on the tutu wearing princess. Indie is in lusty luscious red font today.
Okay, so we first walk in and hardly anyone is there. We're early to get first hands into the food, drinks and watch the ladies in their dresses flow in. Oldbian spots us almost immediately. My interest dwindles until the food comes out and more women enter the room. Then tutu princess comes in and she seems to give us the eye too. But I'm pretty sure I've met her on some other occasion (yep, probably outside Cube NOT smoking). She likes my suit, she wanted to wear one too but decided to dress like punk tutu princess instead, she doesn't remember that we've met (I think), but my hair is different...again. She eventually sits down next to us and we awkwardly converse until she finally asks me if Charlie and I are together. I'm pretty sure by now everyone in Canberra thinks Charlie and I are an item. Yes they do, hence the necessity for T-SHIRTS!!
Lets you and me have a little time, to discuss the lovely Ms T. Get comfortable. T and I have shared two brief but meaningful work meetings, and a number of emphatically professional, yet delightful phone conversations. At the last meeting I casually mentioned that I couldn’t help but notice she was attending the Ball and that I would see her there. Insert friendly non-threatening smiley face. :D Smooooth. Can we please stop with the Ms T talk?! um, NO. You have a GPS on that girl. Every time I ask where T is Charlie can give the northing and easting bearings of her exact location and what cute gesture she is making with her hands. Your point is that I am very observant???
So, here we are people. I had already put the wheels in motion with Indie that I would no doubt stalk track T. down during the evening and introduce her. THEN regale T. with my charm and stabbingly good sense of humour, until she unwittingly fell into the lure of my lesbian entrapment…. Obviously, this is a total and utter fantasy (that last line anyway).
But I take some comfort in a) we had a number of nice chats. b) when she took off her heels to dance she didn’t take them to her table, she left them at mine (admittedly I was closer). BUT I reckon it was an excuse to come back, hey hey??? c) she was wearing a green silk dress. Speck – GREEN SILK. I love green. It was a sign. It’s fate, kismet even!! and d) she doesn’t look OVERly straight to me. Case closed. Glad we sorted that out
Indie surmised that she wasn’t that attractive. But attractiveness us quite a subjective thing, and I find some features ‘interesting and/or appealing’, and therefore cool. Anyway I digress because T is most likely to be a raging heterosexual and her occasional glances at me were probably along the lines of “why is that strange woman grinning at me like a moron? Come other straight women, let’s pick up our skirts and go tosome safe respectable bar, very much unlike the filthy gay bar that they will eventually end up in”.
Anyway. I just like having fun with the idea of these things. I just want her to find me devastatingly witty, and not pull the boyfriend card that's all. I also want to be a rainbow coloured unicorn. But somehow it seems that I am bound to only get SOME things that I want in this world. Still waiting on whether the unicorn thing will pan out....
I said enough about T. Time to tell you about Gypsy Girl.
Gypsy Girl was dancing in a group next to my table. A long red dress with sparklyness and long dark hair. She had her hips in my line. Couldn't help but notice. And sure enough, oldbian was also dancing in this circle. Typical. I proceeded to dance with Gypsy Girl. Yep, no oldbian. Just me and her. How did that happen? I won't go into too much detail but she liked me. I then got distracted by Charlie. That bitch (love you, CCC). Sorry darling. She reeled me back in. Next thing I know, GG has gone. Where? Where would she go? It would seem the night was coming to an end.
Got a few comments on the dress from oldbian no 1 and 2. Nothing from Gen X, Y or X/Y. Boo.
There was that one time in the evening where the band is forced to trot out every song with a dance move attached. I became painfully aware of the generation gap when Indie said to me "you actually know this??' when I was pounding the dancefloor to "Nutbush City Limits". "um, yes, doesn't everyone?". No. No, they don't. Gen X fail. I've constructed a brutally childlike cartoon to illustrate this music cultural divide. Apparently, this is not actually a generational gap but I think it's because I'm foreign. I can't do this dance. They'll take my kiwiness from me if I *gulp* line-dance.
Apart from the fact that Charlie and I looked super-hot and super-gay as we played dress-up role-playing lesos, we failed to score. And we even were tempted to go home straight after the ball but we prevailed and wasted some time at Cube. Charlie had the hots for some trans-man (who was clearly attracted to boys). Fail. You're still a bit hetero, Choppy. :/ See me after class Miss Indiana Kiwifruit.
I was in pain because my suit combo included heels (yes, yes, shocking I know). And the two of us went home. Alone. I woke up later in agony. I had a coccyx injury. How the hell did I fuck up my coccyx? There is no woman in my bed. I double-check. Nope, no woman/women. Therefore, this is probably not a sex injury. Then I think about drink consumption and incidences of falling over when wearing non-Chuck Taylor footwear. I don't recall falling over and blacking out. Agony!!!! My favourite thing to do (lying down) is now painful! I maintain it's the heels. Never again.
PS: the day after the Ball consisted of the following; 3 hours sleep after deciding that going on the internet would be a good way to ‘send’ me to sleep. I eventually passed out at 4am. Spent morning looking at Hyperbole blog archives and pictures of naked women. Abby Winters you minx. I like naked women. Course you do precious, you aren't hetero! Don't believe their lies!!
Call for food from Indie at 3.30pm. Arrive at dirty fast food joint in trackies and hoodie and uggies. Quite content in my belief that no self respecting lezza is ever gonna spot me there.
Charlie x
Have a good weekend my lovelies. Wishing you many sex injuries. Indie x.
Hello homos.Yeah I'm gonna leave up that piccie of Miranda Kerr cos i think she is the hottest chick I don't know, even though she has committed the cardinal sin of marrying the hetero way.
So I came to Splendour prepared to observe the lezzelles. What are they wearing? Do they have nice tattoos? Piercings? Do I like their hair and do I want to steal that idea for my next haircut?
All of this I do for you, dear reader.
In the line for the showers at a festival campground was a good opportunity for me to check out the flame-haired chick with the forearm tatt. I decided to include Jess in my observations and garner some comment for the purposes of the blog.
“hey look at her, nice tatt eh” “what?” “behind me” “who?” “the chick with the red hair and cool tatt, that I’m pointing at, thaaaat one” “ummmreeal subtle chops”
Obviously I was alone in this review of Splendour lezzas. A lone wolf you might say. No doubt being the 'newcomer', I do need some honing of the gaydar. Of course I was also there for the music. Just don't ask me what I saw.
I carried on with my task dutifully. I optimistically decided she was gay, due to tatt, piercings, hair and general demeanour. So far i have not been proved technically wrong in my 'optimism'.
While we are on the subject of the shower block, the toilets were ‘composting” not only non-shagworthy but I think I used the term putrid for the smell. Better than a Youth Hostel though, I’m sure.
I was hanging at the Mix-up tent and was about to start crapping on to some chick about the band, when her gf returned. I am not brave or stupid enough to sidle up to a couple unless properly introduced. Chicks are reeeal possessive at the best of times, and I ain’t gonna put myself in a position to get into a stinkeye match with a stranger who had a chain instead of a belt.
Seeing Florence and the Machine was a kickass highlight (amongst many others) and inspired a dye job of my hacked up and shaved hair. Hypnotic Red by L'Oreal. This little winner is proving to be getting me some nice comments amongst the womenfolk at work. The menfolk also seem to dig it which is less fun.
Post-Splendour was a roadtrip to Byron, back where I grew up. We chowed down on some delicious buttermilk pancakes at the Clarks Beach cafe where the staff are quite pretty and I quite like their little aprons. They don't actually look like this, but i have a little imagination.
There is also a fine establishment called the Green Garage where I purchased the required daily coffee and made nice with the lady with all the piercings. Let's call her Dale. I also like that she didn't ask me to pay for the first two coffees i got there. Sweet.
Am I ever gonna get too old to check women out and stop being a dirty perve?? Lets give it a few more years at least, I'm still learning.
Yep, it's the one you've all been waiting for... Speck rates Cube! I think this could be an ongoing rate...
Cube's my favourite nightclub... I'm open to being shown a better one though - if a better one exists!! You may think there are many out there but do they have everything that Cube has?? Including that real fun spot on the stagey/dancefloory bit in front of the 2-way mirror? Cause if your club don't got that... it better have something to match it. Hmmm, like free Harley rides or well chipped underwear that does that pounding vibrating thing in time to the bass line. Ooo ooo ooo, I wonder if I could make something like that? How much fun would that be? Party in the pants... AAAALLL the time :-p
I like the dude that owns/manages the joint too. You will hear him on the microphone at some point throughout a big night with the catch phrase (which describes the philosophy of Cube to a tee) "Welcome to Cube everybody. This is a gay nightclub, so if you don't like it FUCK OFF!!".
Cube has a zero violence policy, see what they say on their website -
"....Above all Cube boasts a Zero Violence Policy within the club ensuring the safest clubbing experience possible.
Like the carousel located out the front of the club in the heart of the City, just come in and enjoy the ride. Take a break from the everyday; learn to play the gay way and party Cube style for a night. From Thursday to Sunday you can paint the town rainbow before the weekend starts and well after it’s over.
We don’t care where you’ve been before…"
And check them out at their website (I thought I was real clever here and had managed to figure out how to post the link, but alas, upon previewing, I found that I am still stupid - over to you Charlie :-) )Speck dances real hot at CUBE :) Charlie
My recollection of the rating game is lacking at present so sorry if it's not true to the original formula Scoot!! Hmmm, the deviation from clarity and sobriety upon arrival at Cube is generally fairly high, although I do recall having been sober once or twice - and still had a good time (pfft what-evaaa)
The eye candy is usually grand! And if there's none on the dance floor, on the couches, in the cage or in the cave then there's always some behind the bar or the lecturney looking thingy where you pay your money to get in.
I haven't shagged in the bathroom but I hear it's shagworthy to some... but so's the cage apparently... and the couch... and that little spot behind the mirror eh eh eh??
And I'd hate to give it all away by telling you all the stories we have about the goings on there so you'll just have to come and see it to believe it. (Let us know when you're going and we'll come meet you!)
It's fairly well anything goes and you can be completely at ease with whoever you so desire to be (or be all over) on the night!!
In winter, bring a warm jacket cause one of the other interesting things about Cube is its outdoorsy culture. I've been wondering when they're going to make it official, or do some fancy demolition/renovation work and bring the stairs (and the rest of the outdoor interesting chat spots) into the club somehow.
Cube gets 9 out of 10 from me - and this is subject to review post Brisvegas and Perth. If I can't find anything anywhere near Cube's league around the rest of the country, it's going to get upgraded to a 10! (And if you don't like it - FUCK OFF!)
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 ClareHotel) 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.
Tilley's is one of our favourite hangouts in the 'berra. It's comfortable (saw some chicky having a nap there the other day), serves great food, coffee and wine (and beer and spirits), always has something pleasant playing through the speakers and I don't think I've ever been there and NOT seen a lezza... Ooo ooo ooo, once I went there and saw Tex Perkins. That was fucking awesome. Another time I went there and watched my cousin and her troop do their sexy egyption gyrations... but enough about that... rate rate rate. Indie will be so proud of her posse! She's gone to Vietnam for a couple of weeks, so we "gettin bizay" on this 'em here blogspot like good girls :-)
Right then - so Tilley's is a bit famous in Canberra. I know some people know Canberra is the capital of Australia... I think maybe more people know it's the home of Tilley's. If you hop on to their website (which you'll have to find yourself unless one of the bitches helps me out here because I've been trying to figure out how to put links and pastes in but I'm clearly too stupid for blogspots and have been unsuccessful so far - Tilleys there you go sweetpea - Charlie. you'll see that Tilley's has been around since 1986 and you'll also see a few of the reasons why Tilley's got to be so high profile. The music scene is one reason, but I think the biggest reason is the rule that used to be enforced which was that groups of men had to have at least one woman with them to be allowed entry. These days many people refer to Tilley's as "the lesbian bar" or "oh, that place that used to be women-only?". Incorrect but interesting.
Anytime you're there there's generally a medium density of lezzas and the quality is variable. I like the staff. They're real friendly and helpful and if you take a peek over the bar (wear heels if you're short because jumping up and down, while fun, ofttimes draws strange looks) sometimes you can see some very cute/cool/hot outfits :-p !! The toilets are not shagworthy, especially not in winter cause they're really f'n cold. I'm beginning to despair of ever finding a shagworthy toilet (and starting to have grave concerns about JJ's standards) and think that if I do I'm going to have to shag in it immediately...
Tilley's - I'm going to give it a 9.5 out of 10 (subject to change) because it's got everything, all the time. This posse love it.
