For the uninitiated, Thunder From Down Under is not your standard male strip show. It's a Vegas-based hunkathon featuring a pack of high-kicking, bump 'n' grinding, pectoral pulsating Adonises. Also, they take their clothes off.
I know what you're thinking: "But Jamie, strange men always offer to take their clothes off. I usually have to argue with them to keep the things on." Yes, I know. But the fellas of Thunder are not like the wrong-eyed souls who approach you under the overpass. They're professionals. They get paid to make you scream. And in order to do so, they'll tackle a wide range of fantasies: Motown shuffling dance group? Yes. Boot-scootin' cowboys? Uh-huh. Physicists so invested in understanding the properties of dark matter that they cannot seem to button their coffee-stained shirts evenly? ... Oh, sorry. That one's all mine.
The House of Blues has ever so graciously given us a pair of tickets for this Thursday's only performance by Thunder From Down Under. Email me at Jamie.Laughlin@dallasobserver.com with the subject "Man Meat." I'll draw a name at 4:30 p.m. on Wednesday, the 27th, and contact the winner via email. Good luck! And, if you like giveaways, go ahead and like Mixmaster on Facebook and follow us on the Twitter. We like you.
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