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Club Review June 1, 2007
 
Katz Kanary
By Hannah Katz Browse author
 
 

What the fuck is up with this weather!? I know you boys love all the Russian sluts shedding their clothes. All those slamming bodies standing two inches away from your little peckers on the escalator. But quiet down, I'm not deprecating you. I'm being sympathetic, I know and understand. If my clit could get a hard on, I'd pop wood too. There are just way too many hot girls around not to. But I can't be like them. I'm no slut. There is no way I'm going out in public dolled up in little frilly dress that starts doing Japanese upskirt action every time a breeze comes around. No way!

So there I was, stuck in my sweltering modesty. All I could think of was diving into a cool pool and then - bam! Along comes this pretty little invitation to a VIP opening party of Moscow newest club. It's called KAK NA KANARAKH, which is Russian for "like on the Canary Islands." And get this, it has not one, but two pools! I love it when promoters can read my mind, it makes the review so much better.

The place is a hellava bitch to get to, but it's damn worth it. My friend and I arrived at the scene sometime around 8 p.m. and the party was already bumping. (I can't tell you her name because she'd be in deep shit with her fiance if he found out she wasn't out getting treated at an overnight spa, but bumping and grinding with a well-built aerobics instructor.) Anyway, we were stunned. The club turned out to be a series of platforms floating off of Pushkinskaya naberezhnaya. Each part of the club had its own separate floaty platform. There was one for the club and two separate platforms for the swimming pools. It was like a scene out of some glam version of Kevin Costner's Waterworld.

Instead of ugly mutants and shitty scrap-yard boats, the club was filled with good-looking elitny types and surrounded by a marina crammed with expensive Miami Vice-style speedboats. Is that cool or what? We thought so, especially after we realized that the club had their tropical house drink coming out of water faucets. Yes, for free. This place was definitely pafos-infused, but not nearly to the revolting level of Opera or Dyagelev. The people here were, oh how should I put it, the intelligentsia of the elitny crowd. Or something. Oh yeah, and there's a bridge that passed near the club from which poor Russian pedestrians (as well as the losers that got feised) stood around and marveled at this fresh oasis in the middle of this grime bowl they call Moscow. Nothing's nicer than to be constantly reminded that you're part of the privileged. The ego boost especially feels good when you're hammered.

No one was swimming, and that's probably a good thing. With the sheer volume of alcohol I consumed, I surely would've plunged into the pool if someone was already in there. We all know how that would've ended in embarrassment. Or drowning. But... forget the pool. I didn't have to jump into water to get wet. My friend and I quickly found ourselves something much better: Two good-looking dudes with a speedboat. And that was all we saw of the party. Frankly, I'm a little bummed I left early, the guy turned out to be a poor performer and... Sorry kids, but not gonna get all up in my sexual conquests. Go watch some Internet porn or something. Better yet, get your own freakin' sex life.

To sum it all up, I'm definitely coming back to review their restaurant and cafe. I think Tofer needs someone to show him how a real restaurant review is done.

Telephone: 223-1758

Address: Pushkinskaya naberezhnaya, somewhere around Leninsky prospect and 1-ya Gorodskaya bolnitsa

Metro: You don't.

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