- TV Show
- run date
- Lorne Michaels
- Current Status
- Off Air
[Update: Find Stefon’s very last club — sob! — at the end of the post.]
Here’s what we know about tweaky club kid Stefon Zelesky, by far Bill Hader’s most popular SNL character: He used to write for Smash. His dad is David Bowie. His brother is Ben Affleck (a.k.a. “David”). He lives in a trash can near the Radio Shack on 23rd St. and 7th Ave. He’s in love with Seth Meyers. And he’s got an encyclopedic knowledge of New York’s hottest clubs, from Scampi (“illegally parked behind the Statue of Liberty”) to SPICY (“the creation of club owner/rabbi Jew Diamond Phillips”) to Selfieee! (“based on the novel Push by Sapphire”).
But just like Booooooooof’s round-the-clock puke party, all good things must come to an end. And since this Saturday marks Hader’s last show as an SNL cast member, it may also be the last time we see Stefon horrify and amuse Seth — and himself — by rattling off facts about his favorite city hot spots.
So before he goes, let’s celebrate Stefon’s legacy by remembering all 31 of the crazy, improbable, disgusting, hilarious clubs he’s described over the past four seasons. And don’t worry — if the list makes you feel a bit misty, just reach down and grab yourself a human tissue. (It’s that thing of where a jacked midget wears a white shirt, and you blow your nose on it.)
New York’s hottest club is: Crease
Description: Club promoter Tranny Oakley has gone all out.
This place has everything: Lights, psychos, Furbies, screaming babies in Mozart wigs, sunburned drifters with soap sud beards.
Soap sud beards? You know, that thing when the hobo becomes a rich man, so they take that big bubble bath?
New York’s hottest club is: Wesh
Description: Nine-year-old Tokyo pimp Ichiaku Guru is back with an all new hotspot that answers the question, “WHAT?!”
This place has everything: Trance, stilts, throw-up music, an albino that looks like Susan Powter, Teddy Graham people.
Teddy Graham people? It’s that thing of when a guy has the stumpy arms, but with the belly.
New York’s hottest club is: Twice
Description: Don’t be thrown off when you’re greeted at the door by a rabbi that looks like Joaquin Phoenix — you’re in the right place. Also, it’s owned by Robert Blake.
This place has everything: Gauze, carnival barkers, groups of guys with afros in graduation caps, human fire hydrants.
Human fire hydrants? You know, it’s that thing of when high-waisted midgets have like, the red pants and the big ass.
New York’s hottest club is: Slice
Description: Club promoter Gay Liotta is back, and this time he’s… gone… crazy.
This place has everything: Twinks, gypsies, grown men in wedding dresses, a cat from a bodega, puppets in disguise.
Puppets in disguise? It’s that thing of when Alf wore a trench coat, so he could go out into public.
New York’s hottest club is: Taste
Description: Nightlife designer Tranny Griffith is back with an all-new club that answers the question, “Huh?!?” Don’t look for a bouncer — there isn’t one. Instead, the door’s guarded by 10 jacked homeless guys in old-fashioned bathing suits.
This place has everything: Ice sculptures, winos, Germfs – German smurfs – a Teddy Ruxpin wearing mascara, an old lady wearing Kid ‘N Play hair, and none other than DJ Baby Bok Choy.
DJ Baby Bok Choy? He’s a giant 300-pound Chinese baby who wears tinted aviator glasses, and he spins records with his little ravioli hands.
New York’s hottest club is: Slash
This place has everything: Glass, steam, bear traps, and just when you think the fun is over — knock knock, who’s there? It’s Black George Washington! All that, and a party room filled with human bathmats.
Human bathmats? It’s that thing when midgets have dreadlocks, and they lay face down on the floor.
New York’s hottest club is: Trash
Description: After you step through the stainless steel door to this meat-packing hot spot, you’ll be greeted by none other than Pierre, the Muslim Elvis Impersonator.
This place has everything: Clones, freaks, sneezing, a Russian man on a prepaid cell phone, and anyone can get in — there’s no password. At the door, just do the Cosby face.
New York’s hottest club is: Gush
Description: Club owner Gay Dunaway has built a fantasy world that answers the question, “Nooow?”
This place has everything: Geeks, sherpas, a Jamaican nurse wearing a shower cap, room after room of broken mirrors.
Look over there — is that Mick Jagger? No! It’s a fat kid on a Slip ‘n Slide. His knees look like biscuits, and he’s ready to party.
NEXT: “A stuck-up kitten who won’t sign autographs”