2014 San Francisco Air Guitar Qualifier: A Shot At Panties
-This is a guest post by GoldiRoxx, the gracious hostess of the San Francisco Qualifier- If you want to develop your performance talents with the dignity an artist deserves—well, you probably shouldn’t come to San Francisco. Here we’ll just throw panties at your face.
Before the season started this year, the various regional organizers had a conference call in which we discussed things people had tried to spice up the format and get the crowd involved. In a true spirit of taste and reserve, we in SF decided to try them ALL.
After a crowd-pleasing intro performance by the one-and-only Tiger Claw LaFever, the other one-and-only Cold Steel Renegade, and CSR’s legendary elephant thong, our first innovation made its appearance: the Battle Royale, in which our intrepid performers began the competition by rolling out in groups of 3 or 4 and playing AT THE SAME TIME to songs THEY HAD NEVER EVEN HEARD. And they were kind of obscure songs, too. Basically, we were taking these fresh, eager performers, shoving them on stage, and asking them to bring their A game right out of the gate. And bring it they did, getting the crowd and the judges psyched up for what was to come. The winners of each Battle Royale group (furry-panted SinGar the Goat Demon, pervy Ore Gas Sam, and repeat judge-humper Sweetness) got to pick their own performance placement like the bosses they were. And with that, we were off to the main show.
The main show…and the Panty Bonus.
Typically, the crowd at an air guitar show can only participate by screaming insanely, jumping up and down, throwing around beers in excitement, waving signs, and screaming some more. This is all excellent, but with the Panty Bonus they could purchase some extremely classy, high-quality, lot-bought Chinese-cranked-out thongs and fling them at their favorite performers. These panties were collected and counted after each performance (and you’ve never seen CSR in an elephant thong until you’ve seen CSR in an elephant thong crouching on the stage trying to get panties out of the cracks (of the stage)), and recipient of the most panties actually got an extra point added to their score. The Panty Bonus had the potential to change outcomes.*
Andres SegoviAIR, having already gained a place in the LA semifinal, volunteered to take the sacrificial Spot #1, and received the usual Spot #1 poop-upon from the judges. (Really, I think next year the minute the judges walk in the door I’m going to make them each take 2 shots. This warming up/getting drunk period is boo-shit.) Two much-beloved SF staples, Judas Priestess and Shred Theodore Logan, Esq, went next, and despite a panty-haul of 25 pairs for Shred and genuine black eye on Priestess, the judges remained most un-excellently unmoved/sober. Scores edged up slightly for Diesel ManDingo & Shaggy, and as you can see below ManDingo and his flawless ‘fro were inundated with panties, but I began to worry that we wouldn’t see a score above 5.6 all night.
But finally we got to the first of the Battle Royale winners, with a turn by SinGar the Goat Demon. The judges loved his flips, loved his goaty pants, loved his stiff hair—at last the drinks had kicked in, the judges were in love, and SinGar bounced off with 23.4 points.
The love continued for the next Battle Royale winner, Ore Gas Sam, whose fans paid tribute to his signature look, which I believe one judge described as “pervy pool boy.” Another judge said when Ore Gas Sam inevitably went to jail, then when he got out the judge would be happy to have him date his daughter. All that translated to a solid score of 22.5.
Then judges and the audience got their first look at reigning SF champ Pop Roxwell, who legendarily rose from the crowd last year to take the crown (and, as champ, skipped the Battle Royale). Did they like what they saw? Well, does the first 6.0 of the night and a near-perfect score of 23.7 mean anything to you? What about a haul of 39 panties? Judge Uni even asked to borrow her sequined hot pants. It was a love fest up in there.
Following that tough act was the last Battle Royale winner, Sweetness (also seen last week in Santa Cruz). Having smartly noted that humping the feet of Judge Uni got him the Battle Royale win, he went back for more. And it worked again, earning him a 22.4 and a ticket to the next round.
Finishing the early round were delightful pirate PBaaRgh, Human Airer in a jacket that was making him POUR sweat, and the night’s only virgin (at air guitar), the wonderful Riffin Robin. PBaaRgh faced some technical difficulties with his music and battled through like the true sailor he is, but the judges took a dump on him anyway. Riffin Robin had the task of going last, and got some solid and encouraging feedback. And Human Airer also faced technical difficulties, this time in the form of the separation of the ratchet faux-stage pieces we put in front of the stage because the stage itself had a 7-foot ceiling that simply could not contain the energy of such performers. As Airer whaled, the pieces under each foot started slowly, slowly, sliding apart until he was about 1 foot from doing a full Jean-Claude Van Damme split, while continuing to shred without pause. The crowd fucking loved it, showering him with 34 panties, and the judges were on board, too, giving him a 23.
Moving on, after a flawless half-time performance by the legendary dance troupe Sexitude: Sweetness, Ore Gas Sam, Human Airer, SinGar, and Pop Roxwell.
Round 2 saw the final innovation: the Shot at Glory. Each performer was given the chance to either play to the compulsory song they heard (My Sharona) OR to take a shot of extremely low-quality tequila, revealing a colored guitar pick at the bottom and playing, with no previous listen, the corresponding song. And in a true sign of rock-and-roll bad-assery, ALL FIVE COMPETITORS chose the Shot at Glory! The place went so wild that the police came in to tell us to keep it down.**
Sweetness went right back to humping Judge Uni. I hope he got her number, but he didn’t get The Numbers, unfortunately. The judges also seemed to feel that without the JCVD stage split Human Airer didn’t have the stuff to make the top three.
AND YOUR SAN FRANCISCO QUALIFIERS, who each earned a cash prize and a custom medal, furnished by the godfather of San Francisco air guitar, Tiger Claw:
Ore Gas Sam perved his way to spot #3 and a $25 payday, just squeaking past Human Airer by 0.1! And that without the failed jorts-removal-to-banana hammock action from the first round!
SinGar the Goat Demon sooooo delighted the judges that they delivered their first perfect slate of scores for the night, bringing him in solidly to the #2 spot! A 666 for our little devil boy, plus an extra 6 to grow on (and $50 in his pocket)!
And, returning as your San Francisco champion, $100 richer: Pop Roxwell, who was just 0.1 from perfection herself and collected so many panties that CSR had to hire the accounting firm of Ernst & Young to help him count them! 91 panties! I didn’t even know I brought that many!
I mean, you can see from the exclamation marks how exciting it was.
Many thanks to all the competitors, as well as the people who helped pull it together, including Tiger Claw, Dirty Airy, and Cold Steel Renegade.
* It didn’t, but it had that potential. Plus it was just funny seeing panties flying everywhere.
** No, that didn’t really happen. It’s the Mission, they don’t care what you do there as long as it doesn’t involve large quantities of blood.