Gag No. 7 – Suck My Clit by Fire Chick – Gentrification of Wicker Park (Nov/Dec 1992)

Historical note – Fifth Column, a lesbian/bi band from Toronto Canada released their recording ”All-Time Queen Of The World ” in 1991 and toured in 1992 to follow up on that album and the release of their (most popular) single ‘”All Women are Bitches”, which would appear on the K-records 36-C album (1994 release). The new single and tour included Donna Dresch, later of Team Dresch. The band were in the heart of the queer ‘zine scene and homocore scene of the late 1980s to early 1990s. 
At the time of this writing, a group of Chicago ACT-UP girls (mainly lesbians) were making a film, later to become released internationally as ‘Go Fish’ and this is the reference to the lesbian film crew in the article.
The full names of the band members on the tour were Caroline Azar, G. B. Jones, Donna Dresch, Beverly Breckenridge and Torry Colichio.
The second part of the article deals with the gentrification of Wicker Park in Chicago, which was at this point in time a wonderful artists, musicians and writers haven – an amazing scene where everything cool and new was culminating – everyone who was anyone in the creative glitterati scene in Chicago lived in Wicker Park from 1990-1994, the heyday of the region.
Now  thanks to property developers, yuppie wankers who pay for sex on wheels and suburbanite refugees, it is a shell of its former self – merely good place to buy parking spaces, expensive coffee and designer sheets. Everything creative and wonderful has been sucked dry and even the skeletons have been bought up. At the point in time when this article was written, the original gay scene on HalstedStreet was where the ‘sweater fags’ lived (guppies) and all cool homos had moved to Wicker Park, along with cool straights and bis, into one giant melting orgy pot. However, the property developers were already starting to market the area as ‘Lincoln Park West’. In the end, they won. Art lost.

Suck My Clit bi Fire Chick 

Oct/Nov ‘92 

Boyfriend, if I think about this anymore I’m gonna cum yet again; that’ll make one, two, three four . . . Ecstatic, exhausted, sated, soaked. Fifth Column got us all wet. 

The weekend of the 13th was a lucky time for dykletz in Cow Town, as the great goddess of the Toronto ‘zine scene and homocore muzica, Fifth Column, came through town to play a groovy and fabolicious show at the Czar Bar, and an unfortunately sucky one at Metro where they opened for the Mekons(or was that Meegrob?).

Why, Meegrob themselves played not up to snuff that evening too, and they didn’t even have the excuses of being sulky after being fucked over by a promotor, having their keyboards blow up just before the show, and having a lead singer with a nasty virus in her throat like 5th C did.

5th C did put on a truly faboo faboo show at the crowded and queerly attended Friday gig. Connecting and networking city for the qu’artsy crowd, as performance tricks, band members, and a certain lesbian film crew were all reported to have touched more than bases (leggo my ego) and exchanged addresses. . .

The band memberz, Caroline, G.B., Donna, Beverly and Torri were veritable dollz – sweet as maple sirple. And did I mention how hot they were? Grrrr.

5th C made sure the pit was safe for, and full of, girlz. (And some fagz, they have to stick their butts in everydamnwhere when they think it’ll make ’em look cool. God love ’em.) Fluffy punky duckling dykes were moshing, all sweaty-leathery in the pit, and two lovely go-go dancer bear cubz were wrestling on the stage with whips and fishnet. In an assortment of colors and sizes, they were approachable as any at Paris (ed, Paris Dance, a club) and had far better wardrobes and toyz. Such looky looks were exchanged, dearies’ eyes got sore trying to follow the darting glances. (Many girleez had more than sore eyes by the next morning.) My, my were they ever tasty. Better than a Twinkie Lite.

Being as we will be attending more of the keen Homocore nites at Czar Bar in Wicked Park in the near future, Fire Chick is providing a cultural primer for those who will be attending.

Wicked Pork culture is very unlike the sweater strip that most gay men attach themselves to like velcro. For girlchikeez, since there is no pussy perfect cruise bar (see previous Fire Chick for details) it is all the same; six of one, half a dozen of the other, as the funy uncle used to say.

In Sticky Wicket cool people just don’t bathe as often as most (that scary fried hair look remains très chick) and The Gap look is the fashion faux pas du jour. Cop what you will, but if you look too fresh and clean, no one will speak to you. They will know you shower, and therefore you probably live in an evil yuppie re-hab and not in a rotting, leaking, yet festive raw loft like them. Not kool. Not Wicks-be-Perk.

Chock full o’ (con) artists, if you aren’t one yourself, don’t count on meeting any. Typically, you are likely to meet (‘Cuz real artistes don’t ever approach you – timid creatures that they are) someone with money (a rich lezzie or a straight but foolish boy who thinks you are so “different” [read: wild in bed] if you are bi-type of Ms. Thing) who is there to pick up hot young artistes so that they can feel daring, hip and o-so-with-it.

Provide. Say yes, why, I am; I make videos. (Say it as if you really do believe it is an art form that deserves to live.) Appear aloof and indifferent, but order expensive drinks and make her pay (starving artiste, remember?). Talk a lot about Foucault and SAIC, and use the terms “po-mo” and “I’m so over that, that is so not happening right now” in reference to most everything you see. Drop names incessantly. Make a few up on the spot.

Later at her place – the re-hab loft bordering the Park – make her lick your pussy for an hour or two – you are tired from being overworked and underpaid, like the true artiste you are; so sorry you are unable to reciprocate. Then, take her money while she is sleeping. You won’t see her slumming again and you will have done a good deed by discouraging the foreward march of gentrification. Remember, keep Lickey Pink clean, and naturally:

suck it bitch — ta-ta.

 

 

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