This weekend, I went to see The Thunder From Down Under show in Las Vegas. Since I always critique the shows I see, now you get to read all about it.
Let me start off by saying the drunk Whoo-Hoo! chicks in the audience seemed to love this show. So if your idea of fun is getting drunk while sitting in a room full of other drunk women and shouting Whoo-Hoo! every time a guy rips apart his shirt to bare his sculpted, waxed, tanned, chest, are you ever the audience for this
show. If seeing one sculptured butt is all it takes to entertain you,
First - the positives. The music selection was great. I could have done without the half-assed lip-syncing, but there wasn't a bad piece of music in the set.
Second - the guys are nice eye candy (except the really bulked up muscle dude
with the long blond hair who couldn't dance to save his life, but I realize the TDU people try to staff with as many body types as possible.)
Third - the atmosphere rocked. Whoever put this show together did a great job of creating a comfortable and fun space.
Okay, before I say something negative, just remember that I called myself an
epic fail as a girl. I hate pink. A dozen roses are dead plants with their throats slit. I despise cute. I'm not a magpie, so don't ever gift me glittery shit like diamonds. And the perfect Valentines Day is one that passes without comment. Also remember that I spend a great deal of time thinking about and writing sex. Most women I've talked to (erotica writers aside, but even some of them) seem to have sex compartmentalized in this separate place outside of their everyday existence and only drag it out for special events. Not me. Sex might not be front and center in my mind at every moment, but it's always lurking right below everything else. This is the main reason why I consider myself an epic fail as a girl - but don't care.
Okay, now the negatives of The Thunder Down Under
First - The dancing. I've been to a number of adult shows in Vegas, and I notice when a show highlights - or fails to - the true dancing ability of their cast. I would have liked to have seen some more dance skills instead of so much S&M (stand and model in this instance, hon. I know that I usually mean that an entirely different way). A few hip thrusts to a microphone stand? Please. I'm not that easy.
Second - The Repetition. Yes, the Whoo-Hoo chicks went wild every time the guys came out, did some S&M, then ripped off their shirts. I think the Whoo-Hoo! chicks don't get out very often. After the third shirt-ripping moment, I turned to my accomplice, who rolled her eyes. So it wasn't just me. Even worse, the dancer's pants had saggy butts. What's with that? If I have to watch guys do a cowboy dance number in jeans instead of a pair of Ginch Gonch undies, those jeans better be showing off their assets instead of hiding them.
Third - Flesh for Fantasy. This is sort of a catch all, but it all comes down to the dancer's bodies. (Objectify, Sister!)
- I like a thick mat of hair around a guy's pecs, and love a treasure trail leading down to his g-string. Every guy in the cast was waxed within an inch of his life. Boo! Just one hairy chest would have made me much happier. If he was a brunette, so much the better, but any fur port in a storm...
- Only a few guys at TDU got down to g-strings, and their dancing wasn't anything that would get me hot and bothered, even after a glimpse of their very nice butts. I've seen enough gay go-go dancers to know what it looks like when a guy who can dance is really working it, and TDU didn't come close.
So overall, a fun evening with some R rated entertainment, but nothing I'd go to again. I definitely could have done without the juvenile gay remark to the two guys in the audience. However since I know I'm not the typical audience, I think the opinion of the other women there is more important than mine, and they seemed to give The Thunder Down Under a solid, screaming WHOO-HOO!