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Where were all the prostitutes at the DNC?

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"I wish I'd been hooking in Denver for the DNC."

Right now, everyone is hard at work dissecting the various successes and failures of the DNC. They're talking about the dearth of cabs, the profusion of really ugly T-shirts for sale, and who ate what and where and when.

Me? I got just one question: Where were the whores?

Before the DNC hit town, I was hearing reports of up to 40,000 hookers being choppered in to service the needs of lonely pols far from home. There were church groups on hand to try and save the prostitutes, cops ready to roust the prostitutes, an entire machinery of commerce, aid and law enforcement all built up around this magical notion of a decent-sized army of working girls descending on Denver and hurling themselves, crotch-first, at any ambulatory male they could find.

I saw precisely one. Through all the parties, all the events, walking (and driving) the streets from fairly early until very, very late, there was just one: a young woman with teased hair and high, red wedge shoes, a very mini miniskirt and a red, white and blue halter top stumbling out of the back of one of those white convention SUVs, hastily shoveling one boob back into her shirt and immediately hailing a cab on the corner.

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Busting Cindy Adams' balls, and other WTF moments from the Democratic National Convention

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We awoke this morning and wouldn't you know it: The stench has lifted. You know, that smell that hung heavily all week -- that subtle mix of patriotism (the proud delegates) and patchouli (the street whores), with a touch of bad-ass (Obama) and a slight whiff of bullshit (still Obama). It's wafting its way north now, through the plains to St. Paul, where it will crawl up the noses of every Republican in Minnesota and, if they're not careful, a few unlucky Canadians.

We, of course, are left behind to pick up the pieces, to try to figure out what the hell just happened. So, here, a look back at the week that was. After all, it was the only time in Denver's history that a white-haired, white-collared old man wearing coke-bottle glasses will sit at the bar at LoDo's swanky Spill, watching CNN and sipping Glenlivet. We better not forget it. -- Joe Tone

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The Music of the Democratic National Convention

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Music ruled Denver this week, from Saturday's Rock the Bells show to Thursday night at Invesco. Here are some of our favorite performances -- also known as the ones we managed to get into.

Local artists’ Boom truck has a blast during DNC

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Lauri Lynnx Murphy, Rodney Wallace and Brian Robertson go Boom.
The key to grabbing a bit of the spotlight during the convention is to ride on the VIPs’ coattails, as anyone who’s crashed a party or two can attest. Turns out local contemporary artists are using the same strategy to ensure their work gets a little attention.

A perfect example of this is Boom, a nomadic Denver gallery housed temporarily in the back of a 26-foot Penske truck. Boom, a collective effort featuring the work of local artists like Lauri Lynnxe Murphy, Brian Robertson and Rodney Wallace, has been making the rounds over the past few days, setting up shop on the street right where the action is. “We wanted to be the cultural ambassadors for Denver,” says Murphy. “To show that Denver has a great, vibrant art scene.” Many of the official convention art shows, like the Dialogue: City events presented by the Denver Office of Cultural Affairs, focus on non-Denver artists.

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Live Review: Nada Surf, Cold War Kids, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Silversun Pickups, at the Manifest Hope Art Gallery

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Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah. No, seriously, do it!

Nada Surf, Cold War Kids, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Silversun Pickups
Wednesday, Aug. 27, 2008 Manifest Hope Art Gallery
Better than: Hanging out in the industrial stretches of north Denver when the DNC is not in town.

By 6 p.m., the evening was quickly becoming frustrating, aggravating and enervating.
As the sound check rang from the improvised stage off of Walnut and 30th streets Wednesday, Aug. 27, the growing crowd assembled for the Manifest Hope Art Gallery concert started grumbling.

The show was already 20 minutes late, and though the stage was within sight, the gatekeepers held the burgeoning audience at bay. “This is just disorganized,” one young girl noted as the steady chorus of “Check, check, check” came from the restricted area for what seemed like the fiftieth time.


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Mad for Mad Men at the DNC

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Smokin' hot stars Jon Hamm and John Slattery in Mad Men and with Mayor John Hickenlooper at the Pepsi Center.

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I'd been getting kind of cranky about all the celebrity hype surrounding the Democratic National Convention.

Where were the big parties? a radio producer wanted to know. The only party that we should be covering was the Democratic Party, I huffed.

Have you seen any stars today?, a reporter asked, to which I snorted, Forget stars, let's talk issues.

Well, forget that.

Last night at the Pepsi Center, seconds after Joe Biden finished his speech and after hours of being clobbered by discussions of the issues, I looked up -- and saw stars.


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Does the Democratic National Convention make you feel like roadkill?

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The DNC is smashing.

I first saw the remains of this unfortunate lil' feller as I moved past the first security checkpoint outside the Pepsi Center early on Tuesday morning -- and when I headed toward the arena on Wednesday after five p.m., he was still there. Way to go, City of Denver officials. You've been so concerned about impressing the visitors in town for the Democratic National Convention, and yet you leave this at a spot every delegate and member of the press must walk past. Either clean it up or put it on a plate with some Rocky Mountain oysters and convince some dubious gourmand that it's a local delicacy. Crushed Vermin with Asphalt -- to die for! -- Michael Roberts

DNC crowds overwhelm 16th Street Mall shuttles

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The Rocky Mountain News' front-page headline described the mobs that have descended on the 16th Street Mall as a "hundred-year flood of humanity," and that's about right. How packed with people is the area? Yesterday, I walked from Westword's offices, at approximately 10th and Broadway, to the mall with the intention of catching the shuttle to Market and then walking down to the Pepsi Center. After two stops, however, I decided the vehicle was having to move so slowly due to all of the pedestrians of various stripes in the area that I'd make better time walking -- and oh man, was I right. Not only did I outdistance the bus on which I'd initially been riding. I actually passed the one in front of it. On foot. And I may be many things, but I'm not Usain Bolt. -- Michael Roberts

Shut out of the DNC Vanity Affair party -- again

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Hello, you must be going.

When we stopped by the visitor's bureau booth in Pavilion 3 outside the Pepsi Center yesterday -- chips, beer and hits of oxygen! -- the conversation turned to an e-mail that several Denver bold names had received that day, a painful slap in the face of our fragile, world-class status. Find it below. -- Patricia Calhoun

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A big can of whoopee at the Pepsi Center

Jesus, why didn’t I think of this sooner? I mean, I know those floor passes are hard to get, but still…

Thanks to my anonymous poster from gayzetteblog.com for the heads up. A quick scan of the craigslist personals proves that this isn’t the only guy looking to get a little action during the more boring moments of the Democratic National Convention. Apparently the men’s rooms at the Pepsi Center were very popular destinations for both the Party of the People and people looking to party.

No word yet on the potential for action at Invesco. -- Jason Sheehan


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