We had our show Saturday night at the new Blondie's downtown in Detroit. We didn't know it, but Blondie's was to be the base camp for what is called... Detroit Santarchy.
It's a pub crawl with a Santa outfit theme. Imagine if you will... we're upstairs waiting for the night to get started. The bar is empty, except for employees and band members. We're getting our pre-staging beverages. Then three gals in Santa outfits come in.
Then five dudes in Santa outfits.
Then we hear GAWD-AWFUL HORRIBLE AIR-RAID-SIREN-LIKE CLATTER!
I sprang from my barstool to see what was the matter.
I glared out the window and what did I find?
FOUR Santa-filled buses and a limo in a line!
They stumbled out to approach the stairs
We all followed their pathway with desheveled stares
In droves they came, screaming and shouting
The event organizers first, to do their scouting
To find all the waitresses and introduce themselves
To meet all the Santas, the wives, and the green-clad elves
And harlots and skanks dressed head to toe
In fashion quite unsuitable for Michigan snow
Their asses hung out and their cleavage was heaved
Some corsets made me wonder how any of them breathed
The guys had their worst intentions manifested
Beer guts painted green and hooligans bare-chested
Cowboy hats of red with trim of fluffy white
And the megaphone-wielding leader filling us with fright
They flung pudding shots at each other to and fro
While waitresses scramble without slipping as they go
Shenanigans were partaken, calamities were inevitable
What in the hell actually rhymes with inevitable?
The first band started up, as this sea of crimson red
Listened to the "music" as it bombarded their heads
The gold-hewn temptress was showing off her outfit
As we noticed her panties would be deemed by most, unfit!
The bar was attacked by wives needing refills
Of whiskey rum vodka, and other beverages distilled
The booze was a-flowing, the crowd was a-screaming
The hawt slutty outfits got the windows a-steaming!
And as swiftly as the walls were crammed with this crowd
The megaphone blasted the drunkards aloud
"GET THE HELL OUT! BUSES ARE LEAVING!"
And we watched many Santas stumbling and weaving
They piled back into their yellow booze chariots
With the crowd filling the limo looking the scariest
We were still amazed as they shouted afar
"MERRY CHRISTMAS YOU BASTARDS, ON TO THE NEXT BAR!"
It's a pub crawl with a Santa outfit theme. Imagine if you will... we're upstairs waiting for the night to get started. The bar is empty, except for employees and band members. We're getting our pre-staging beverages. Then three gals in Santa outfits come in.
Then five dudes in Santa outfits.
Then we hear GAWD-AWFUL HORRIBLE AIR-RAID-SIREN-LIKE CLATTER!
I sprang from my barstool to see what was the matter.
I glared out the window and what did I find?
FOUR Santa-filled buses and a limo in a line!
They stumbled out to approach the stairs
We all followed their pathway with desheveled stares
In droves they came, screaming and shouting
The event organizers first, to do their scouting
To find all the waitresses and introduce themselves
To meet all the Santas, the wives, and the green-clad elves
And harlots and skanks dressed head to toe
In fashion quite unsuitable for Michigan snow
Their asses hung out and their cleavage was heaved
Some corsets made me wonder how any of them breathed
The guys had their worst intentions manifested
Beer guts painted green and hooligans bare-chested
Cowboy hats of red with trim of fluffy white
And the megaphone-wielding leader filling us with fright
They flung pudding shots at each other to and fro
While waitresses scramble without slipping as they go
Shenanigans were partaken, calamities were inevitable
What in the hell actually rhymes with inevitable?
The first band started up, as this sea of crimson red
Listened to the "music" as it bombarded their heads
The gold-hewn temptress was showing off her outfit
As we noticed her panties would be deemed by most, unfit!
The bar was attacked by wives needing refills
Of whiskey rum vodka, and other beverages distilled
The booze was a-flowing, the crowd was a-screaming
The hawt slutty outfits got the windows a-steaming!
And as swiftly as the walls were crammed with this crowd
The megaphone blasted the drunkards aloud
"GET THE HELL OUT! BUSES ARE LEAVING!"
And we watched many Santas stumbling and weaving
They piled back into their yellow booze chariots
With the crowd filling the limo looking the scariest
We were still amazed as they shouted afar
"MERRY CHRISTMAS YOU BASTARDS, ON TO THE NEXT BAR!"
