This story gives new meaning to pour me a stiff one.
A new bar in London has opened up with a surprise Saturday event:
nude disco. Yes, now you can shake your naked booty to Staying Alive as hordes of fellow nudies look on. Even
the DJ is spinning naked behind his decks, which, if you know some of the DJs I know, does not conjure up pleasant
mental images. We do learn, however, that the bouncers stationed outside are, in fact, clothed. They are
there, too, to warn clubbers what awaits them inside because depending on your religious bent, you might just
believe you’d entered one of Dante’s circles of hell.
Me, I could care less if people go nude when they do the hustle. Just don’t ask me to join the conga line.