Most Popular

Recent Articles

National Features >

  • Broward-Palm Beach New Times

    The Agent from Iran

    How a mother of two ended up in a plot to smuggle high-tech gear to the enemy.

    By Deirdra Funcheon

  • Westword

    Murder By Design

    In life and death, tattoo artist Kauri Tiyme made her mark.

    By Alan Prendergast

  • Village Voice

    My Brother the Slumlord

    Amy Neustein never could resist going public with her family dramas.

    By Elizabeth Dwoskin

  • Houston Press

    The Ghosts of Galveston

    A visit with the hurricane victims that a country forgot.

    By John Nova Lomax

Be Social

  • rss

Hoochie Who?

Continued from page 1

Published on January 23, 2003

A blonde who earlier had been flashing her breasts outside to the shock and dismay of Schou and Wielenga (who could only see her back through the window) was having the least fun on the dance floor. All other women were smiling like they were on Exstasy (in this case, I'm almost positive the women were just good, old-fashioned alcoholics) and reaching out their hands to touch the faces of other women they didn't know, in a friendly and mostly unthreatening manner. Sisterhood and stuff. The most astounding thing was that all the women were in complete possession of all their front teeth. They really shouldn't have been.

My favorite girl was an attractive brunette, perhaps part Filipina or Samoan, in a little white muscle shirt and snakeskin pants that were far too tight, shoving a bit of bloat overboard. She made muscle poses and vamped around the dance floor, giving high fives to other girls and having the best time in the whole world ever.

The only expression her loud, American face was making was one of blotto joy. God bless.

Tell Rebecca you're lesborrific: CommieGirl99@hotmail.com.
« Previous Page   1   2


  • Weekly
  • Music
  • Insider
  • Dining
  • Events