Our train pulled into Twist's yearly Warsaw Ballroom party a little early, but the freaks were out in full force. Someone kept shoving drink tickets in our hands; it wasn't long before the night sank into the pit of strippers, drag queens, and dashing young men. I think we made it out of Warsaw and somehow ended up in East Prussia because everyone was wearing spiked helmuts.
George and David (I hope I got those names right) were visiting from Australia and quite dazzled by the goings-on. It just wouldn't be a night out at Twist without meeting some cuties.
Despite the rather terrifying make-up, Karloz was a ssweet as pie.
As usual, we sat with our dear bartenders Nathan and Mario. I asked Mario if someone had to lick off his body paint and he said he was waiting for Nathan to do that.
I swear that you can bounce quarters off of Mario's chest (and his ass, too).