Bash Compactor: Asking For It

A special edition of Eastern Bloc's weekly Good Times party, "Night of 1,000 Courtney Loves" turned out to be quite the overstatement, but fun nonetheless. Perhaps because gays who like grunge and riot grrrl tend to be less drag-inclined than those who like, say,

Cher, there were barely enough wigs present to assemble a costume contest. The likeliest contender, a blonde and bloody bride, explained that she was not going for Courtney at all: "I went to a zombie crawl earlier and I didn't have time to change."

The night's theme, host Kelvin said, was conceived partly with his friend James in mind. "It's his birthday and he's a diehard Courtney fan," he explained. "The gays love Courtney Love." Looking around, I smiled broadly to see countless guys (guys!) singing along with the music I'd held so dear growing up: Bikini Kill, Elastica, Babes in Toyland, Garbage and of course Hole. The birthday boy in question then appeared in the form of a scruffy fellow wearing a blue shirt, a sparkly gold skirt, and a wig that looked like it had seen much better days. "This wig has been drenched in beer but I put it back on my head," he enthused. "I'm 30, can you believe it?" Which era of Courtney was he going for? "Pretty on the Inside, aka loaded."

"Can we please get all Courtneys to the stripper pole?" asked DJ Sparber. He repeated the announcement several times, eventually coaxing James and another be-wigged gentleman over, where, in true C-Lo form, they did a few shimmies, but mainly tried not to fall off. The birthday boy won the applause contest handily and went to claim his bottle of bubbly. Sparber thanked everyone for coming, then added, "Maybe next year it'll be a night of 15 Courtney Loves." I looked up and noticed the energetic ass fucking on the bar's television screens was in perfect sync with "Miss World." If that's not a sign that gays and Courtney go together like tiaras and prescription painkillers, I don't know what is.