Jack Pearadin and Doug Nelsen found a 1.73-carat diamond after nearly a year of searching the park's field.
AUSTRALIA’S THUNDER FROM DOWN UNDER
8 p.m. Electric Cowboy. $25-$35.
I tried. I honestly have given it 110 percent. I must’ve watched nearly 34 seconds of a video of it online, but I still just can’t understand the appeal. I’m talking (and yes, I do mean talking) about male strippers, of course.
It’s like, what are they doing up there? First we’re supposed to be convinced that they’re all just a bunch of innocent policemen or firefighters or tuxedo-wearers and they just happen to be dancing around to a nice choreographed tune. But then they rip all their clothing off to reveal chest after ripped, deeply tanned, deeply oily, 100-percent hairless chest. And then the pants come off and they start prancing and thrusting and bulging around everywhere and for some reason, some people — women mostly, it seems — appear to enjoy this. They shriek and cackle at these poor studly ragamuffins.
And I’m thinking (and yes, I do mean thinking), “Hey, this is like, sexual objectification or something. This isn’t right.” And then I remembered: It’s all because of Hollywood. See, there’s this popular actor right now who used to be a male stripper. He’s called Chunnam Tating or something weird, some nonsensical stripper name. Anyways, it’s probably his fault, so thanks a lot, Chunnam.
And to all you folks ages 21 and older who want to watch a troupe of utterly buff, devastatingly handsome dudes with antipodean accents and pumped up pectorals dance around sexily, here you go, Australia's Thunder from Down Under.
Thank you so much, Leslie, and the Arkansas Times for your support of the arts…