Ba-Da-Bingo
News
& Reviews
"It's
like regular bingo...only crossed with the Rocky Horror Picture Show..."
- Bay Area Backroads
"There's
nothing like this in Nebraska." - Visitor from Nebraska
"It's
the stuff Catholic school porn is made of - but tamed for a general audience!"
- SF Bay Guardian
"The
night explodes in a display that threatens life, limb, and pious loyalty."
- SF Weekly
"Lunacy
is in grateful abundance." - Silke Tudor, SF Weekly
cable
cars are for suckers.
the
anti-tourist's guide to san francisco
by Matt Morin
If you’re looking for something slightly (and I stress slightly) more
subdued, you could try your hand at bingo. Of course, this being San Francisco,
you know it’s no normal bingo. It’s Ba-Da-Bingo! Put on as a fundraiser
by the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, Ba-Da-Bingo is something akin to
bingo meets the Rocky Horror Picture Show. There are drag queens. People
yelling obscenities at selected moments. And audience participation is
not only encouraged, but demanded. When I went prior to Christmas, the
theme was “A Porn Star Holiday.” Everyone was given free gay porn on DVD
(um…e-mail me if you want my unopened copy). If you happened to have your
raffle ticket drawn (no, that is not a euphemism for anything), you could
play bingo from a card printed on the boxer shorts currently being worn
an actual gay porn star. There’s big money and prizes, but a word of caution:
do not bring a cell phone. Anyone whose phone goes off (no, that is not
another euphemism) gets hauled up to the front and spanked with a paddle.
Hard. (Although I don’t know. Maybe you’re into that shit.)
Badabingo is Featured by a German Newspaper
SISTERS BINGO in the WILD WEST
San Francisco Bay Times, August 2003
By Sister Dana Van Iquity
In yet another of their wacky themed monthly Bingo fundraiser games,
the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, Inc. held “Wild Wild West Bingo: Six
Shooter, Six Packs, and Sex Pots” at the Metropolitan Community Church
on Aug. 7. “Over the four years, we've raised over $45,000 for charity.
That's because every penny of profit we make goes back to the community,”
said Sister Betty Does, founder of the monthly Ba-Da-Bingo. “Oh, Momma
would be proud (and jealous of our jewels).”
Many a Castro cowboy and Ponderosa poofter showed up in their Country
Western shit-kickin’ finery, ranging from complete outfits to just a butch
ten gallon hat to a child’s tiny plastic half-pint cowboy hat with a rubber
band chinstrap. My favorite was a gal in a marabou-trimmed pink cowboy
hat with “VIXEN” printed in glitter. She looked especially impressive carrying
her own stick horsie. And one lad brought his lasso with which to rope
and poke horny cowpokes. Several outlaws kept shooting off their cap guns.
Each Ba-Da-Bingo attendee got a complimentary sheriff’s badge to bring
them good luck. Costuming is not enforced but is highly encouraged. It’s
not that you get any special privileges, but you have a helluva lotta fun
being eye candy for the masses. And some say it brings extra favors from
the Bingo Goddess.
It has become tradition each time when the rest of the players do not
win, to ball up their Bingo paper cards and throw them across the room
or at each other, resulting in a veritable spitball snowstorm. Ah, there’s
nothing like a winter wonderland in the Castro in the middle of summer!
As always, Sister Betty combed the crowd for Bingo virgins—first time
players participating in the nuns’ special brand of Bingo—who were picked
to represent their part of the room, winning extra door prize tickets,
in a hog-calling contest. I thought the cute guy hollering, “Soooeee!”
should have won, but the audience picked the woman who just called, “Here
pig!” and squealed a lot. It was international night, because several tourists
were there from France and Germany. One Spanish lady needed a translator.
Periodically prizes were given when someone yelled out, “Free shit!
Free shit!” and tickets were drawn to get free stuff, including a revolting
talking George Bush doll that, according to Sister Betty, “says all the
stupid things…no, just 17 of the stupid things Bush has said” and porn
and toasters and VCRs and DVD players. That night winning Bingo cards could
make up to $200 per winner.
There are a few rules to this unruly game. No alcohol or drugs are allowed
OUTSIDE the body inside the hall. You must be 18 or older. You must call
out your Bingo before the next number is pulled or you will be declared
premature and might just get an instant makeover with the dauber, receiving
a green third eye and red dots for rouge. And if your cell phone goes off,
you risk getting paddled in front of the audience. And it’s double the
swats for the wicked player who purposely calls up his friend there and
makes that poor schlub’s cell ring.
Or if it’s your birthday, you’ll get a whacking. Or if you look at
a Sister wrong, you might get spanked. It’s a very S&M kind of evening!
Occasionally a nun will call out a number wrong or make a mistake, and
then it’s HER turn to be punished. Sister Dana really should wear iron
underwear to these things.
This was a special night, because an anonymous donor gave the Sisters
brand new Bingo balls. I hesitate to say that the nuns’ balls were getting
a little worn through all the use they have gotten over the years. Ahem.
There are certain crowd catcalls that go along with the announcing of
ball numbers. O-69 is by far the most popular, and is always followed by
a lot of sexy whoo-hooing; O-68 is just a big “tease!” When B-11 is called,
the crowd shouts, “Chicken legs!” because of the number eleven’s resemblance
to the skinny gams of a fowl. O-75 is Big Daddy, because it’s the largest
number on the board. So it follows that 0-74 would be Big Mama. B-10 always
gets the “ouch!” response, because it is beaten. I-22 is tutu, but it must
be shouted out like a cuckoo clock sounds. O-66 [full of sibilants] gets
a very gay hiss. There are more, but why spoil the surprises?! The most
fun is learning the latest Bingo lingo.
There are variations to the usual four-corner Bingo--for instance, Lesbian
Bingo, in which players must spell out an “L”, or Sister Bingo, where the
squares must be in the form of a cross. Sister Dana Bingo is a horizontal
line of blots along the bottom—kind of like a blotto, passed-out Sister
Dana.
Sister Betty informed the crowd that the fabulous Russian River Sisters—bodacious
Sister Barbi Mitzvah, shimmering Sister Sparkle Plenty, comical Sister
Chastity Boner, hairy Novice Sister Nova Nilla, and others—now have their
own version of Bingo up at the River, and an opportunity has arrived to
visit and play with them at The Great Russian River Bingo Bus Adventure.
“Get ready, get set, and get out of the City,” said Sister Betty. “Climb
aboard our ultra-swank, giant, air-conditioned, bathroom-equipped bus and
join in as we head north to Guerneville for a day of Bingo at the River!”
The Bingo Bus leaves MCC at noon on Sept. 13, arriving in time for lounging
and cocktailing by the pool, canoeing down the river, or strolling the
streets of the gayest resort town this side of the Sierras. The cost of
the Bingo games [2 sets of cards] is included with the bus ticket, and
who knows, you could possibly return to the City with more money than when
you left. Of course there will be cocktailing after the game as well, with
an ETA into EssEff around midnight. Tickets are $37.50 each online at www.Acteva.com/go/badabingo,
until Sept 1st, and then will cost a bit more. But hurry, because only
30 seats are available now.
Next month on Sept. 4, 7 pm at MCC the theme is “The Price Is Right,”
so as the game show announcer would bellow, “COME ON DOWN!” And if you
wear a wig, you get two extra door prize tickets. Free shit! But remember,
this is NOT your grandmaw’s Bingo, so be prepared to get wild and crazy
with some of the fun nuns, hon!
Nitevibe features Ba-da-Bingo, December 2003
"Ba-da-Bingo" (no really... that's what it's called) was born
four years ago in the Castro and since then has won the attention of everyone
from National Geographic to the BBC. Bingo being the oldest form of gambling
known to man or grandmother is reinvented in a fun naked way and it's not
just for gay boys. In fact, nearly half the audience is straight, or bi,
or whatever. As the website says " It doesn't matter who you play footsie
with at Bingo. Why we even let girls spank boys, boys spank boys and nuns
spank everyone. It's equal opportunity for fun and mayhem." Porn stars
will be on hand for the festivities along with special guests like Trannyshack
Rentecca and Sister Grinchetta. Plus there are free porn videos for everyone.
BINGO! Date: 12/4, Time: 7pm, Place: 150 Eureka St, Cover: TBA, More Info
(JP)
Eros Guide features Ba-da-Bingo, August 2003
Excerpt from the Citysearch editorial review,
July 2003
Click
here for the full review
"If you think bingo is only for old folks and small-town hokies,
you're wrong. On the first Thursday of every month, the Sisters of Perpetual
Indulgence--a gaggle of cross-dressing social activists based in the Castro--host
the queerest, most obnoxious and absolutely lascivious bingo to ever exist.
Themes like Wild Wild West Bingo, Porn Bingo and Bingo Over Broadway, as
well as a various live musicians, set a naughty tone; but what goes on
after that is probably not fit to print. Know one thing, however: Faux
pas like jumping the gun on "Bingo!" or receiving a cell phone call will
get you the spanking of your life..."
Ba-da-Bingo Featured by CBS Evening Magazine,
May 2003
Click
here for the Evening Magazine website
Ba-da-Bingo featured by DeWereld TV, April
2003
(Belgium)
Click
here to view
KRON Channel 4
Bay
Area Backroads Features Ba-da-Bingo
(requires Windows Media player)
San Francisco is a great town to wander around
in at night. Silke Tudor, writer for the SF Weekly, gave us some
great tips about things to do when the sun goes down. Here are her
tips:
· Caffe Trieste
· City Lights Bookstore
· 22o2 Oxygen Bar
· Ba Da Bingo
From Spectator Magazine
February 4, 2002
The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence provide a clean well-lighted place
for the oldest get-rich-quick scheme in civilization: Bingo. That's Ba-da-Bingo
in Sister-speak, a Bingo game
that draws full-house crowds, as much for the queer-antics as the big
money prizes.
From SF Weekly, 25 December 2001
Crazy
for Christmas
Tired of a traditional holiday? Try opening presents with an elephant or
playing a game of Ba-Da-Bingo!
BY SILKE TUDOR
Being a San Francisco native, I have only on very rare occasion experienced
the
traditional white Christmas with carolers, chestnuts, and candy canes.
Frankly, I
don't see the allure. For my money, there's nothing like sunshine, wine,
and
foolishness to generate good will toward men: In Córdoba, Spain,
Christmastime
is celebrated by the Dance of the Madmen, during which the chief-elect
berserker leads a mob of deranged twinkle-toes bounding through town and
whirling through people's living rooms, just to test the good will and
humor of
their neighbors. This celebration is outdone only by the Festival of Verdiales
in
Málaga, Spain, where thousands of people converge on an old mountain
road to
watch a marathon flamenco competition among 20 groups comprised of several
hundred musicians. Apparently, volume counts almost as much as stamina.
A
somewhat quieter but far more ridiculous holiday tradition takes place
in Oaxaca,
Mexico. The Night of the Radishes commemorates the Spanish introduction
of
the radish, which grows very large and misshapen in this region, and of
Jesus
Christ, which grows very large and misshapen in almost any region. By day,
local
artisans spend tireless hours carving the spicy white flesh of the radish
into
intricate scenes from biblical stories and Aztec legends. As dark falls,
cash prizes
are awarded to the masterwork roots and the night explodes in a fireworks
display that threatens life, limb, and pious loyalty.
Oh! What I wouldn't give for a radish Nativity scene and a small block
of
dynamite this holiday season! Sadly, I must settle for home-grown Christmas
lunacy, which is, as always, in grateful abundance.
"Honey, I'll beat your ass with this stuffed candy cane!" howls 26-year-old
Sherman "Sure, man" Manacoll. "Don't you think I won't!" Manacoll wields
his plush toy with deadly accuracy, catching his friend Lu, a large queen
with
dishwater-blond hair, between the shoulder blades. Lu yelps and runs to
the end
of the long line waiting outside the Metropolitan Community Church for
the
Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence's holiday installment of Ba-Da-Bingo!
"OK, OK," gasps Lu as Manacoll rains candy-striped blows upon her head.
"I
love Christmas. I love bingo. And I love you."
"That's better," says Manacoll, flicking his green pompom-trimmed scarf
over his
shoulder and tucking his weapon under his arm like a triumphant brigadier.
"Let's
get back in line. We don't want to get stuck with a blue blotter."
 The
giddy crowd huddles together in the brisk winter night as a Sister in festive
holiday habit and full makeup scampers by shouting, "Good evening, darlings!"
It's worth the wait: The hall is bright and cozy, strung with garlands
and portraits
of Sisters past, and the crowd is nutty. Just as the last of the 230-plus
people
settle into their seats, arranging their bingo cards and displaying their
good-luck
bingo talismans, the overhead lights go out. A pulsing dance beat fills
the hall, accompanied by synchronized Christmas lights, which blink in
rhythm across the balcony and over the stained-glass arches. The audience
goes wild, clapping and hollering as five Sisters line up in the central
aisle, waving flashlights like runway attendants as Sister Betty Does LNM
comes in for a landing, a high and holy, fluttering bingo queen.
"We don't have spotlights," says Sister Betty through her beard, "but we
make do."
Sister Betty nods at their decrepit old bingo cage, which has brought in
over $25,000 for local charities over the last two years.
"We finally raised enough money for an automatic bingo machine," she says
to great applause, "but someone flew a plane into a building so we donated
that money to the Red Cross." The crowd moans.
"Thankfully, Andy and Bill wrote us a check."
Andy and Bill, who sit in the front row with daubers in hand, are invited
onstage to accept honorary crowns. Sadly, in all the excitement of flipping
the switch on "Ball-Bushka," the new bingo machine (so named because it
roars like a disabled Soviet jet engine), Andy and Bill forget their distinction
and remove their crowns, the punishment for which is public spanking and,
worse, smooching Sister Dana Van Iquity.
But all generosity, frivolity, and thrashings aside, the crowd is here
to play bingo and win some holiday swag. Sister Sparkle and Sister Constance
Craving pass out condoms and lube as Sister Kitty Catalyst OCP begins the
calling.
"If you've got amphetamines," suggests Sister Betty, "pop 'em now. You'll
want to keep up."
"B-1!" But for the roar of Ball-Bushka, the hall falls silent.
"B-9!" A young man behind my seat cries, "Not malignant!"
"G-58!"
"I-22!" A couple of serious players with multiple bingo packs and lucky
trinkets shout, "Toot! Toot!"
"O-69!" The crowd erupts into hoots and catcalls.
"O-68!" A few men in the back row shout, "Tease!"
"I-18!" A gent in a Santa hat hollers, "You wish!"
"N-37!"
"0-75!"
The crowd shouts, "Oh, Daddy!" just as someone in the balcony calls out,
"Bingo!" The rest of the players hiss loudly and throw their losing cards
into the air. By game three, Lesbian Bingo (so named for the L-shape required
to win), balled-up bingo cards lie across the floor ankle-deep, like colorful
snowdrifts. By game eight, numerous folks have been flogged (one Canadian
gentleman quite severely for squeezing his dauber until it exploded, and
for being Canadian); several players have been awarded DVD players (for
having nice hats and the like); cash prizes have been won (and returned
for charity); and the entire crowd has had phone sex with a lonely queen
living in Barrow, Alaska, without a movie theater, a bar, or a road out.
"It's the least we could do," says Sister Betty of the pornographic cell-phone
call. "A little Sisterly charity for a poor soul stuck at the top of the
world."
"It's all about giving," says Susan Duong, who chose to let the Sisters
keep her bingo winnings. "And laughing."
SF Guardian July 25, 2001
Annual Best of the Bay Issue
page 107
Best Public Humiliation
by Nuns
If getting spanked by nuns
in front of a large boisterous crowd is
enough to get your hosanna
to the highest, then darling, you simply must
mark your calendar for the
first Thursday of the month, when the naughty
Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence
host(ess) Resurrection Bingo at the
Metropolitan Community Church
in the Castro. In the struggle to win
fabulous boatloads of cash
and prizes while making generous donations to
local charities, the audience
has a chance to sin. Shout "Bingo!"
inappropriately, by "accident"
or not, and you will be taken to the
stage and flogged. And Lord
helps you if your cell phone goes off while
the balls are being pulled,
as this, too, is a heavenly excuse to meet
with the leather paddle.
It's the stuff that Catholic school porn is
made of, but tamed for a
general audience. Metropolitan Community
Church, 150 Eureka, S.F.
www.sisterbetty.org/badabingo/bingo.htm
Not
Your Granny's Bingo
Drag
Queen Nuns Pack the House With Fundraising 'Resurrection'
Story
by: Justine Parker
XPRESS/Jocelyn
Bandas / Staff Photographer
Sister
Betty Does, LMN, does her chairnun duties during bingo night with some
help from some friends.
|
As she
strides purposefully to the stage, the crowd goes wild, cheering and whistling.
She throws off her Lakers jacket then slowly, teasingly removes her white
cotton t-shirt. The crowd explodes as she starts to remove her lingerie
while sensually swaying in time with the music. But that’s as far as it
goes. There are more important games to play tonight. There are balls to
be dropped, cash to be won, and if your cell phone rings during the proceedings,
you’re in for a serious spanking. Welcome to "2001: A Sex Odyssey," the
gala opening of the 2001 Resurrection Bingo season.
Tonight’s
event is a full house. Two hundred people have filled the pastel pink and
white hall of the Metropolitan Community Church in the Castro and they’re
ready for some action. Their flashy colored markers are poised and their
cards carefully arranged. Sister
Betty Does, LNM, Bingo Chairnun, officiates, with Sister Camille Leon
as her able assistant. The Bare Chested Calendar Boys are there to help
with ball pulling and marking the bingo board.
Before
the games begin, there’s a floorshow. The lights are cut. The crowd cheers
wildly and counts down in unison. Sister Camille appears on stage, resplendent
in a strapless white sequined number, bearing the Bingo spaceship. Lights
flash, disco music fills the room and she starts to dance. The Bare Chested
Calendar Boys join in her skillful choreography, each bearing a carefully
decorated cardboard cutout planet. For the grand finale, they each turn
their planets in unison to reveal the letters B-I-N-G-O.
Finally,
it's time to play. First, a quick explanation of the rules for Bingo Virgins:
"Raise your hand if you get the Bingo honey. We’re not clairvoyant." You
win an extra door prize ticket if you are sitting next to a person who
wins a Bingo, and don’t forget the O69! special: There's an extra $50 if
you Bingo on O69. Aside from traditional Bingo or Four-Corners Bingo, players
can also win on "Lesbian Bingo" (any two connecting rows that form an L),
or "Sister Bingo" (in the shape of a cross).
As
Sister Betty calls the numbers and ensures the smooth running of the game,
the crowd enters into deep concentration mode, frantically scanning cards
for numbers as they are called. Within the first two minutes, someone has
a Bingo and the crowd groans. The groans quickly turn to cheers when Sister
Camille announces that the winner donated $20 of her $80 prize back to
the Sisters.
The
Profits of Resurrection Bingo will be used to fund the Sisters’ Social
and Economic Justice Scholarship Fund. Beginning in August, the fund will
award cash grants of up to $500 to graduate and post-graduate students
who pledge to use their education to promote social and economic justice.
Resurrection Bingo started in June 2000 under the guidance of the lovely
Sister Betty, of the San Francisco based charity organization the Sisters
of Perpetual Indulgence, a predominantly gay order of "drag queen nuns."
Despite the honor of being placed on the official Papal List of Heretics
in 1987, the Sisters continue their good work throughout the city.
Sister
Betty decided to launch a monthly bingo night to replace a previous bingo
night in the Castro which raised money for AIDS research, which stopped
two years ago.
"All
the people who ran it passed away, so we decided to start it again. That’s
why we called it Resurrection Bingo. We resurrected it," she said.
Since
its inception, Resurrection Bingo has raised more than $7000 for non-profit
charities, as well as awarding more than $7000 in cash prizes to players.
Since
1979 the divine Sisters have held fundraising events throughout San Francisco
to aid non-profit community organizations, as well as being involved with
fundraisers such as the Castro Street Fair, Pink Saturday and the AIDS
Dance-a-thon and Walk-a-thon. Dedicated to "expiating stigmatic guilt and
promulgating universal joy," the sisters now have orders worldwide: in
Europe, Asia, Australia and South America.
It’s
9 pm and time for the tenth and final game of the evening. This time round,
its Sister Bingo, and everyone’s eager to win. Out of nowhere, a faint
melody sounds. The crowd pounces. "Cell phone," yell some, while others
chant "Spank, spank, spank." Sister Betty calms the crowd and then requests
delightedly: "Can I have some nuns to the balcony?" The poor unfortunate
should have known better. To the cheers of the crowd, Sister Camille approaches
the gallery, where the owner of the cell phone awaits his punishment--10
spanks with a bingo clipboard. From the glint in his eyes it’s clear, he
enjoyed every second of it.
Resurrection
Bingo 7 pm, 1st Thursday of each month. Metropolitan Community Church,
150 Eureka St, San Francisco. Admission is $12.
For
more information about the Sisters’ Social and Economic Justice Scholarship
Fund, visit www.sisterbetty.org/badabingo
The Sisters
of Perpetual Indulgence, Inc. Announce Results of Resurrection Bingo and
Formation of Social Justice Scholarship Fund
January 14, 2001 – San Francisco - The Sisters
of Perpetual Indulgence, Inc., announced today that Resurrection Bingo
raised $7,010 for non-profit charities in the first seven months of operations
while distributing over $7,100 in cash prizes to players.
“We are indulgently ecstatic with the results
from our 2000 bingo season,” raved Sister Betty Does, Bingo Chairnun.
“And we’re sweating our undergarments through with excitement about our
plans for 2001!”
The Sisters also announced the formation of the
Sisters Social and Economic Justice Scholarship Fund. The fund will
provide cash grants of up to $500 for education-related expenses for graduate
and post-graduate students who pledge to use their education to promote
social and economic justice. Money raised by Resurrection Bingo in
2001 will help underwrite the fund.
“We need leaders who can help move our world from
the current situation of great economic and social disparity to a place
where the quality of human life is valued more than corporate profits
and shareholder value,” Sister Betty stated. “This scholarship fund
is our attempt to help those with a vision for justice  make
that vision a reality.”
Grants from the Sisters Social and Economic Justice
Scholarship Fund will be available to students in California and nationwide
in the fall of 2001. Information on how to apply for a grant will
be available on the Sister’s website: www.TheSisters.org in August.
Resurrection Bingo begins it’s 2001 season on
February 1 with a gala “2001: A Sex Odyssey” bingo blowout.
In addition to hundreds of dollars in cash prizes, players will have a
chance to win a special high-tech door prize while enjoying the antics
of the Sisters and their celebrity guests.
Resurrection Bingo operates the first Thursday
of each month at 150 Eureka Street. Admission is $12, which includes
entertainment, 10 games of bingo with cash prizes of up to $250 each game,
blotter rental and door prize ticket. Resurrection Bingo is
licensed for operation by the City and County of San Francisco.
For more information about Resurrection Bingo,
including Bingo 101 – A Basic Course for Bingo Virgins – visit www.TheSisters.org.
SFBay
Guardian, 09 August 2000
Dilettante
The
next night, the beauty factor is decidedly more original –
and
comedic standards are thankfully raised – at
Resurrection
Bingo, a monthly benefit put on by the
ever-fabulous
Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. The Sisters,
a
San Francisco charity organization since 1979, combine
drag
with tongue-in-cheek Catholic imagery to "expiate
stigmatic
guilt and promulgate universal joy" – throwing benefits
and
parties for all kinds of deserving nonprofits, and dressing in
elaborate
and colorful "habits," their whitened faces painted
and
glittered up like beautiful hot-rod clowns. At the entrance to
the
capacity-crowded Metropolitan Community Church,
Sisters
Roxanne Roles and Camille Leon, along with Saint
Great
Dane, take admission and dole out colorful bingo sheets
to
the chattering throng.
Inside
the church, participants take their places at the long rows
of
tables under rainbow flags and stained-glass renderings of
different
world religions. Event organizer Sister Betty Does, in
a
midriff-revealing habit and painted-over goatee, emcees.
Tonight's
Resurrection Bingo game, she tells us, partially
benefits
Bethany Methodist Church: In the '70s, what's now the
hole
in the ground on Market Street in the Castro used to be a
church
that allowed gay men to perform plays in the basement.
Homophobic
yahoos firebombed the place, and now Bethany
(who
still owns the property) wants to build a
come-one-come-all
community amphitheater for the performing
arts.
The proceeds, in other words, will be well spent.
"Who
here has never played bingo before?" I and a couple
others
raise our hands. "Virgin!" the crowd chants. A "telegram"
from
The Shrub (George W. Bush) arrives, congratulating the
"Sisters"
on what he thinks are their goody-two-shoes good
deeds.
Hardy har. Sister Betty goes over the rules for
Resurrection
Bingo (e.g., if you bingo on O-69, the prize
increases
by $50), and the games begin. "Oh my god, I'm so
nervous,"
one player groans dramatically.
Sister
Betty pulls balls from the cage as Sister Gina Tonic
works
the low-rent board (markers and butcher paper only – the
fact
of having no fancy lit-up bingo board equals more money
for
charity) and players heckle and concentrate. Sexual
innuendos
fly ("Oh no, he dropped his balls!"), and different
games
keep bingo players on their toes: "Lesbian Bingo"
requires
two filled rows in the shape of an L; "Sister Bingo," a
cross.
Sister Betty keeps the proceedings going at a steady
clip
to ensure that the crowd can be out by the time Will and
Grace
comes on.
For
the second half, comedian Kevin Snow guest-stars as the
celebrity
ball puller. "Do we have our daubers dampened?," he
asks.
"Do we have our free spaces plugged?" He announces
that
anyone who cries false bingo will be stood up on a chair
and
paddled. "Bingo!," the crowd deadpans. Two players win
on
the 0-69 and split the prize. As with most bingo victors, they
graciously,
immediately donate a portion of their winnings back
to
the Sisters. Sister Betty tells the crowd that the Catholic
Church
filed an injunction to try to prevent these nuns fro
having
bingo night. Of course, they lost. You can't keep a good nun down. |
