"Joe Bob Goes to the Drive-In" for 6/15/90

cutline: Star of "Go-Go Dancer" explaining her theory of the ultimate causes of the French Revolution

By Joe Bob Briggs

Drive-In Movie Critic of Grapevine, Texas

Have I ever told you about the time me and Phil Siegel and Fuzzy Nixon did the coast-to-coast topless-bar Breast-o-rama?

It started out because Phil, who's from Brooklyn, claimed that the Kit Kat Club on Sixth Avenue in New York was the greatest topless bar in America. You could hear me and Fuzzy laughing all the way to Syracuse. The Kit Kat Club, if you've ever been there, is the closest thing there is to watching grizzly bears take off their clothes for money. They got girls in there that have to be hosed down every five minutes just to keep the roaches off.

That's when Fuzzy Nixon, who's from Santa Monica, said the greatest go-go dancers in the world are at Oscar's nightclub in Anaheim. This is getting closer to the truth. But I insisted then, and I continue to insist today, that the greatest topless bar in the world is Baby Doll's Topless in the famous Bachman Lake "Hooter Heaven" area of Dallas, where--I'm just gazing at the newspaper here--this week the top two star attractions are Lulu Devine, billed as "the 8th and 9th Wonders of the World," and Penthouse centerfold girl Catalina Lamour. (Lulu's measurements, by the way, are billed as "85MM-23-34." I haven't gotten by there yet to verify those figures, but I will.)

Anyhow, it was shortly after that that Phil, Fuzzy and me all gathered in New York and set out on a three-week cross-country topless-bar blitz that resulted in what I believe to be the only objective rankings of nekkid garbonzas ever compiled in one place. The results follow:

New York: The only city in America where extinct buffalo breeds can be seen dancing topless. All the clubs are owned by guys named Khalil. All the girls look like junkie albinos.

New Jersey: Same as New York, except the girls look like junkie albinos who live in the suburbs.

Boston: Some SERIOUS sleaze. Dark bat-caves where bug-eyed, frizzy-haired "exotic dancers" slide up and down a pole. Very weird. You've got to be a Yankee to be into it.

Florida: All the topless action is not in Miami, but in Tampa, the first place where some of the dancers assumed a vaguely humanoid form.

New Orleans: First city to go 100 per cent transvestite on us. You have to be into Judy Garland.

Chicago: Fifty-five-year-old grandmas with cellulite. Women hired by Al Capone are STILL dancing. Very depressing.

Vancouver: Last city in North America where they have actual "burlesque" shows, like in "Flashdance." Lots of leather and women named "Cheree" dancing to classical music. Interesting if you're casting a music video, but not erotic.

San Francisco: Broadway, where topless was founded by my close personal friend, Carol Doda, better known as "The Twin Peaks" (long before the TV show ripped off her trademark), is pretty much down to two or three pathetic little clubs, mere shadows of the street's glory days. Carol is semi-retired.

Vegas: They still wear balloons on their breasts and nine-foot peacock feathers on their heads, and if you ever see one of them close-up, they all look like they had head-on collisions with a Max Factor truck.

El Lay: Oscar's in Anaheim has the "girl-next-door" type, but all the more famous places on the Sunset Strip are either closed or so sleazy your pocket gets picked before you even get out of your car. Porno stars will sell you their picture for five bucks at some of them. You DON'T wanna go inside.

Houston: The city where "table-dancing" was invented (you have to see it to believe it) has decent-looking girls, and about 20 per cent of them can actually dance.

Dallas: Still the Topless Bar Capital of the World. Topless bars for every social class--Cabaret Royale for the high rollers, Million Dollar Saloon for the nouveau riche, and, for the working man, the gritty Geno's Topless on Harry Hines Boulevard. These topless bars are so good that the local D.A. has declared them a public nuisance. And the most annoying one, for my money, is Baby Doll's--about 30 dancers all the time. They got girls in that place that look good BEFORE the third beer, and, of course, that's the highest compliment I can pay to a woman.

And speaking of the noble nekkid female, there's a new kind of video out that's a sort of PG-rated topless-dancing experience WITHOUT ACTUALLY SHOWING ANYTHING. Sounds pretty pitiful, but these things are renting like crazy in the video stores. It's either professional topless dancers who strip down to a G-string and one of those bikini tops that looks like a couple Band-Aids, OR it's amateur-night "girls-next-door" who strip down to a G-string and one of those bikini tops that looks like a couple of DESIGNER Band-Aids. The ones from the East Coast feature pros. The ones from the West Coast feature college girls, secretaries, and waitresses trying to make a buck. If you're gonna check one out, go for the California ones. The ones from Atlantic City are so gross that the only way to enjoy em is to start at the end and run em backwards in fast motion, watching the dancers PUT THEIR CLOTHES BACK ON.

Typical of the East Coast videos is "Go-Go Dancer," hosted by--oh my God!--John Byner, who--oh my God!--does a Jackie Mason impression, followed by a Henny Youngman limerick. Then he introduces 15 girls competing in the "Platinum Doll Go-Go Awards," at the "famous" Chez Paree club in Atlantic City. On the outside this place looks like an urban-renewal project. On the inside it looks like an urban-renewal project with nekkid girls in it. The girls are all tougher than fifty-cent steaks and they all have stripper names, like "Chazz" and "Sher-yl" and "Special K." One of them can dance. Most of them can swing on a giant steel pole. Some of them still do actual BUMPS and GRINDS, like in the old burlesque houses. Sixty per cent of them have faces like bulldogs. And the winner of the $10,000 "Grand Prize" can make her face look like a snarling leopard. Fifteen dead bodies. Twenty-six thunder-thighs. No breasts. Drive-In Academy Award nomination for John Byner (sympathy nominee).

If you're gonna watch one of these, get the "California Girl Bikini Contest," numbers 1 through 13, which is a series of videos taped at Oscar's in Anaheim, featuring an occasional drive-in star like Monique Gabrielle, star of "Emmanuelle V" and "Deathstalker 2," and Hope Marie Carlton, the Playboy Playmate star of "Malibu Express" and "Savage Beach." In the East Coast videos, you feel like the girls are nasty, sleazy professional dancers. In the West Coast videos, you feel like the girls are nasty, sleazy NICE GIRLS. Some of em are from Bakersfield, for God's sake! And they use Paula Abdul music, and wear those designer French-cut bikinis, and the whole thing is . . . well . . . like watching your best friend's sister take her clothes off. In other words, it's a California deal. Two breasts (resulting in a disqualification). Only three dead bodies. Four thunder-thighs. Drive-In Academy Award nomination for Monique, for leaving her movie career behind to make an easy hundred bucks at Oscar's; this woman is DEDICATED. Someday they'll make a video in Texas. Until then, these get four stars.

Joe Bob says check em out.

JOE BOB'S ADVICE TO THE HOPELESS

Victory over Communism! The Valley Drive-In in Lompoc, Calif., is open year round at six bucks a car, catering to the sickos like Marisa Bunning at Vandenberg Air Force Base. Marisa reminds us that the drive-in will never die. To discuss the meaning of life with Joe Bob, or to get free junk in the mail and Joe Bob's "We Are the Weird" newsletter, write Joe Bob Briggs, P.O. Box 2002, Dallas, TX 75221. Joe Bob's Fax line is always open: 214-368-2310.

Dear Joe Bob:

One of the most noticeable aspects of ordinary life in Texas is the passion for High School football. I am deeply touched by the willingness of so many parents to hold their sons back a year so they'll be bigger than the other boys on the field. (Course, this idea is not going to work when it gets to be too common, though I have to wonder if they might not hold them back another year just to be sure.) I really feel the support that these parents have for their sons' proper development.

Occasionally,

Bubba Sanger

Richardson, Tex.

Dear Bubba:

I hope you're not referring to the 29-year-old sophomore tailback at Brownwood High School. They wouldn't of held that boy back, except that he was brought up by his grandparents and they didn't notice his dented forehead until the age of twelve. By then he'd failed first grade six times.

Joe Bob,

I knew a real sweet gal from TV. Mickey Gilley noticed her, too, and that's probably why she left that show. Then when I saw her handing out trophies for music videos I wrote to her and said "Call me collect at 916- etc." (Not there anymore.) And I got some calls, but hung up because no one spoke but me.

But there's hope for people with yellow teeth who can't afford a dentist. You put some "cream" (white) Revlon nail polish with a little squirt of gold paint which is actually copper but it won't turn green in your face because a couple or three drops of Crazy Glue holds it on there as long as you brush first and blow-dry your teeth before applying it. Then you absolutely must rinse your mouth with a bleach solution (bleach and water, which is good to brush with anyway).

So if ya know who I'm talking about, tell her "hi," or if not I won't have an "ama" but I still gots my mama.

(Note: Aim high unless you're pointing somewhere else.)

Stephens

Redwood City, Calif.

Dear Stephens:

Lemme get this straight. You're putting Crazy Glue on your teeth and waiting for a phone call from somebody whose name you can't remember who used to be on TV.

I love California.

Dearest Joe Bob -

Please help me! I'm a college student trapped in the body of a Yuppie! For the past year, I have been working to put myself through school for next year. So as a result:

1) I now take picnics of brie and bread to the drive-in.

2) I can't listen to anything but "new age" versions of old Patsy Cline.

3) I have strange cravings for Chardonnay and White Zinfandel with my Big Mac's Ribs.

Please bring me back to reality, so when I go back to college the students don't think I'm an expensive nerd.

P.S. I'm going to Graceland in July. Do you want anything?

Luv & B.M.W.'s,

Ann Spiegler

El Cerrito, Calif.

Dear Ann:

1) Go immediately to an all-you-can-eat fried-catfish place.

2) Put "Okie From Muskogee" on your record player and turn it up full. (You haven't tossed your stereo yet, have you?)

3) Throw yourself at a man in Bakersfield.

Any man in Bakersfield will do.

Dear Mr. Briggs,

I enjoy reading your editorials with an almost lustful abandon.

Keep up the good work and, I must say, you have a nice butt for a white guy.

Sincerely,

Lorita Schlopsnies

Tonawanda, N.Y.

Dear Lorita:

I work out on a Lazy-Boy recliner to keep it that way.

Joe Bob,

A great big blood-spattered Howdy from a gore hound in Colorado. Good point about "Freddy" Englund. Damn am I gettin' sick of this Fred bull. About B-movie queens, you know although she's not strictly a B-movie actress, Jamie Lee Curtis is one of my "faves." She was great in "Halloween" and II, "Prom Night" so on and so on. Although we don't get to see much of her "mams" she still is held high on my list of female horror actresses.

You mentioned about fighting the MPAA. What can I do to help? We went to see "Leatherface." I was so let down. Nothin' but a moth-eaten plot. Man that made me mad.

Paul Schiola

Denver

Dear Paul:

The MP double-A Jack Valenti Censorship Board has gone crazy during the last year, slapping X ratings on everthing with half an exploded head in it. Let the local theaters know that you WILL attend and support unrated movies. If enough people buy tickets, pretty soon the theaters won't give a flying frijole WHAT the Censorship Board says.

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