Teppy, come to Chicago!
Gettin' busy in a giant sandwich: A guide to Chicagoland's bizarrely themed love hotels
Your fantasy: Batman and Robin, cops/criminal role-play, cat costumes
Ideal hotel: The “Gotham City” room at Gurnee's Hollywood Inn And Suites (3740 Grand Ave., Gurnee, 847-623-7777).
Amenities: A '60s-style Batmobile Jacuzzi, complete with headlights, plus a 360-degree airbrushed mural of Gotham. Other than a crafty butler, what more do you need?
How it fits into a perfect date: Pick up a little source material from Libertyville's Dreamland Comics, or, in season, check out Batman: The Ride or The Dark Knight Coaster at Six Flags Great America, just blocks away from the hotel. Or if you absolutely don't want to leave the Lovecave, just watch The Dark Knight again—as if you really need an excuse. The hotel also boasts an Area 51 room, in case donning a cape doesn't help you get your boy wonder up.
The one Mardi Gras I attended I got bags and bags of beads (many parades over many days) and didn't show any flesh at all. I'm both flabbergasted and not that the myth persists and is perpetuated by the media.
I scored a Zulu coconut, nothing extracurricular required.
Stopped by TJ's yesterday. Am trying the rosemary chicken and wild rice for lunch today. So far, so tasty.
msbelle, we own a Versa- bought one in 2007. We love it.
Yeah, I've gotten buckets of beads at Mardi Gras with no nudity. I've also seen people arrested for flashing in the Quarter.
I've never flashed. Got most beads when a drunker girl on her boyfriend's shoulders was lifting her shirt and beads were bouncing off of her (note: If your hands are holding your shirt, it's kinda hard to grab the beads) and landing in my arms.
Also, made friends with a paramedic who had bags of beads thrown his way, and because he needed to be unencumbered, he'd just hand them over to me.
I've had stupid drunken frat boys yell at me to show my tits...in fucking June.
The one Mardi Gras I attended I got bags and bags of beads (many parades over many days) and didn't show any flesh at all. I'm both flabbergasted and not that the myth persists and is perpetuated by the media.
I've attended three, and while I have not showed flesh I have seen my fair share. I also saw a friend booed for only flashing her bra.
Oh, I so aspire to be smonster's massaage therapist. In spirit, if not in actual application of hands.
Heh. She's awesome in so many ways, and is in my (former) dance troupe.
Living in NO was an education in and of itself. I didn't know how early the Mardi Gras season started (6th January), and that many parades ran before tourists showed up and were heavily family-attended. No flashing requested then.
I went to the gay end of Bourbon Street on Mardi Gras itself. Boobs I did not see.
Thunder, all through the night / Promise to see Jesus in the morning light
Woohoo!
Also, because whenever song lyrics go through my brain they're followed by
My 9 is easy to load
and
I don't have any books about elephants.
