Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Thundah From Down Undah!Forgive me while I think about Thunder From Down Under some more.
See, here's the thing.
I love strippers.
Boy strippers.
I don't have anything against female strippers -- I mean, I think the female body is beautiful and I generally enjoy looking at a beautiful body no matter its gender. But (despite claiming Lauren Dane as my girlfriend to save her from the grindage and being kissed by a "not-lesbian" in the bathroom at Nine Fine Irishmen) I mostly like to check out the boys.
I've been to see several male revues over the years -- most super duper cheesy. Some more fun than others. (The male strippers I saw last year for my birthday were THE BEST ever, not because they were better looking or had better moves but for the sheer, unexpected hands-on approach.)
This is what I liked about Thunder From Down Under.
1. They looked like they were having fun. Lots of fun. They didn't look bored, or, god forbid, scared, or even worse, grossed out. And if I were them and had to face some of the women who were there were flinging themselves bodily -- and I mean leaping over walls to get to them -- I might have been a little afraid.
2. They had a sense of humor. A good one. Okay, so I know that men in drag is a personal fetish for me, but when they danced to The Time Warp and super hot and sexy Pirate DUDE puts on a wig, skirt, thong and high heels to dance ...well, that says fun, to me. I like a guy who can laugh at himself. Also, the Emcee had a great laugh, even if his jokes were a bit cheesy. Well, what do you expect? It's a show about men taking off their clothes?
3. The music and dancing were polished. Not perfect. But polished and certainly accomplished. These guys worked hard. They did sort of silly things -- I find it interesting that the "sexy" moves men use are generally feminine when you dissect them. Bumping and grinding, etc. Though I particularly liked the one where "James Dean" crawled along the floor like some sort of raging sexbeast...yeah...hold on a minute...what was I saying? Umm...yeah, I liked that. It worked. And the pouring beer all over himself. Yeah. Ahem, that worked, too. I mean, in a purely fantasy sort of thing, because in real life I'd be all "dammit! Now you've made a mess" but...hey, this wasn't real life. Was it?
All in all, I really enjoyed it, and not only because it was some hot guys (honestly, none of them really pushed my every "hottttt" button -- they were all good looking but none of them made me want to lick them repeatedly. Wait. Let me think about that. Okay, so I might have been persuaded, had it been a matter of some national importance, to lick one of them, or several. But. In general, I like leaner angsty sort of goth boys more. Anyway.)
And this is why I love strippers. Because men taking off their clothes for women is so different than women taking off their clothes for men. It taps into some sort of odd role reversal thing where we women get to be all sexxed up and objectify men and be all prowly and demanding...and what it comes down to is this: women are used to being receptacles for lust. I'm not going into a whole sort of feminist rant because that's not really my ting or the point of my post. But men...when women turn the tables...when men shake and shimmy and take off their clothes and lick bottles and writhe and gyrate...
It's just different.
And I think why I like it is because it's a safe way of expressing interest in men who are not my husband. Let's face it, I can go to a club and find a guy and grind on him or let him grind on me, and chances are, he's gonna expect some action. And well he should, I guess, if I'm rubbing him up and down, it makes sense he'd assume I'm interested in possibly moving the dancing to a more horizontal surface. This does not mean a man has a right to try and take advantage of that, of course, but then again, if you're grinding with someone and they try to get frisky, should you be surprised? I think not.
But watching strippers? Those men don't want me. They're being paid to dance and strut and fulfill my fantasies. I can hoot and whoop and dream on about pecs and abs and bottle licking and tight hard asses that are gyrated to the beat of music, but I do not have to ACT upon those thoughts. I can totally enjoy it with no effort on my part.
Oh.
And I really dig guys. ;)
--M
