I usually visit my favorite swingers club Erostotle during the middle of the month. That is when I am tired of jerking it to fake pictures on internet dating services and talking to police officers posing as 13 year olds on Yahoo or MySpace. Around the 15th of the month, I need sex and that leads me to Erostotle.

I got an email update from them claiming "Sex Slaves and Fosterchild at Blockley Pourhouse in Philadelphia." SHIT YEAH! I exclaimed spraying lube everywhere. Finally two things I enjoy at one location; being a complete leather submissive with daddy/mommy issues. Sex Slaves and Fosterchild could provide me the middle of the month release I seek.

I showed up at the Blockley Pourhouse, leather zipper mask sealed shut and a leash attached to my nipples. Shockingly, I was denied entry to the establishment. Apparently, Sex Slaves and Fosterchild are rock bands. Conveniently, I had a spare set of clothes and diapers in the car. Since I write for this half-assed website, mine as well do a review of this show.

A local band Pissing Prophets, Heiroglyphics Angels, something like that opened the show. I might be hard to impress because they felt pretentious, self-indulgent, and banal as all hell. What didn't help them was their bassist broke a bass string. Ladies, if the bassist breaks a bass string flock to him. He has magical and strong fingers.....or it was strung too tight. Either way, flock to him. I am going to choose to believe this man has magical fingers that can make a woman's G-spot purr. Line up ladies!

The band that piqued my interest, Sex Slaves, were on next. They are a power punk band out of New York City who sing about sex, Jack Daniels, sex, guys in bathrooms, and more sex. I took an impromptu visual survey of the crowd and it was 89% Cougars, 2% pasty white boys who went to U Penn, .05% of guys who thought it was a sex club, and 8% Jersey Shore Does Bachelor Party. And if you are wondering, yes, the Jersey Shore Bachelor Party showed up in a stretch limo, drank vodka shots, and made various requests of the bands as obnoxiously as possible.

I left my camera at home because they are frowned upon in sex clubs, but the amps of the Sex Slaves were car rims clearly stolen from the pimps in North Philly. Clad in traditional Ramones like punk regalia, Sex Slaves pounded out their classic sleazy punk sing-a-longs like Thank God for Jack Daniels, Ssssay What?, and even tossed in a Motorhead cover of Ace of Spades. The song dedication to Jason, the bathroom valet at the Blockley was priceless. As the band noted, the bathroom smelled of piss and shit before Jason got there. After he arrived it smelled of chamomile with only a small hint of chestnut and urine.

The band really impressed me with their brand of stage antics. They had great banter with the crowd, which only comes from years of heavy touring and fucking more chicks than a farmer's coming of age son. I also enjoyed Del Cheetah's, the bassist for the Sex Slaves, Greed $immons impersonation. He turns to face their car rim amplifiers and when Cheetah turns back to the crowd he unleashes a giant fireball worthy of Draco. (Yea that's right, I made a Dragonheart reference) Thank god the band decided on their Greed $immons impersonation and not their Great White impersonation.

All joking aside, this band is a must see. Catchy, tongue-in-cheek songs, no holds barred fuck you attitude on stage, and a crushed velvet drum kit, this band has something for everyone. If you miss Sex Slaves when they hit your town, well you are fucked and not in the good way. In the kind of way Catholic priests did to me when I was eight.

Head to their main site or MySpace for all upcoming tour dates.