It's Sting! In his underpants! STING IN UNDERPANTS! Central Cinema, $6 adv/ $8 DOS, 7 pm, all ages.
Too long we've suffered. The nightmare must end! It's straight girls we're talking about here, specifically in gay bars, and QUICK! PLEASE NOTE! I'm most certainly NOT talking to and/or about the fabulous and frolicsome breeder-girls who really understand us and love us and realize that it is two-thousand-and-fucking-eleven already (thank you). Heavens no! They are much-welcomed, beloved, and necessary. We're talking about the hysterical bridal-shower-in-a-gay-bar crowd—roving/raving herds of invading "I-just-LUUUUURVE-gay-clubs-because-I-can-just-DANCE-and-have-FUN-with-no-pressure-and-don't-have-to-WORRY-about-guys-HITTING-ON-ME-or-anything-SQUEEEE!" That's who. And I was molested by TWO (yes, TWO!!!) packs of these rude and ridiculous ninnies just last week at two very gay bars. Me! Here! Smack in the middle of the Great Gay Renaissance! How alienating. How nineteen-ninety-two. Gay bars do not equal Disneyland for condescending drunk chicks on bridal binges, I'd like the world to know (pass it on!). And frankly, considering the state of gay marriage, it's more than a smidge fucking crass. And the next time I'm cornered and given the "Oooooh! I just LURVE gay bars..." speech when I am JUST ABOUT to make a move on a SUPER-HOT GUY, some bridal-bimbo is gonna suddenly feel a well-polished Fluevog right up her ass. That's all. And thank you for letting me get this off my chest. Also, it's really important that you go to Comeback tonight because Larry Tee from NYC is appearing, and he has been described thusly: "A club kid before Michael Alig dismembered one." This is, of course, probably the most perversely delightful thing ever said about anyone. Admit it. (No fucking bridal showers!) Chop Suey, $8, 9 pm, 21+.
Back, back we go! Into the misty realms of ancient gay history: the old and original Vogue, down on First Ave. It was a rather infamous gay indie-goth club, and, if you didn't know, it had a second incarnation for a while roughly where Purr sits today, and, even though she went tits up long ago, Roxy Doll has been keeping her spooky spirit alive for four years now—every week in Neighbours Underground. Tonight is the anniversary of her vigil. Break out the black eyeliner and Bauhaus sensibilities—it's time to Siouxie your Banshee...again! Neighbours Underground, 9 pm, $5, 21+.