Gland of the free: Bob and Barbara's once again finds itself at the cutting edge of Philadelphia's cultural renaissance.

A-List

No longer relegated to church basements and other haunts of the blue-hair set, bingo has been making a steady resurgence among bohemians and same-sexers since the early '90s. It was perhaps inevitable then that twee stronghold and queer refuge Bob and Barbara's should host a weekly tournament trafficking in chips and cards with (what else?) porn dominating the list of prizes. What better way to celebrate the end of another grueling humpday than throwing back specials as you slowly fill your board with chips on your way to winning that coveted copy of That '70s ‘Ho'? With any luck, perhaps you'll walk out double-fisted after winning Edward Penishands the following round. Then again, maybe you're a little down on your luck, in which case the Hobo Round is right up your alley. Make a straight line of chips and you'll leave B&B's the proud owner of some rot-gut liquor and a can of meat. The specifics vary from week to week, but it doesn't really matter. If you can tell the difference between Spam and Libby's Potted Meat, perhaps you shouldn't be shelling out $3 for a bingo card. (Joshua Valocchi)

The greatest conundrum in pop culture is that it's cool to look lean and lightly muscled, but exercising is totally dorky. Has Steven Tyler ever been on a step machine? Did Jimi Hendrix jog? Was Sid Vicious a keen exponent of yoga, pilates and tai chi? No, no and fuck no. As a result nearly all rockers end up prematurely dead (Sid), looking like porkers (Elvis) or wizened, frizzy-haired, big-lipped trolls (Steven Tyler). There have been attempts to square this vicious circle. One thinks of punk rock ubermusclemensch Henry Rollins. (He's so sexy.) And last year's punk-rock aerobics craze. Now there's a new, cool DIY fit-kid on the block. Punk trainer Brian Adoff says never mind the stupid prancing 'round like a total git in overpriced gym bollocks—here's Punk Rock Boot Camp. PRBC Appreciation Day is open to everybody—even hippies, although they'll probably be driven off by the totally awesome music. Dress code? Hey, it's punk. Looking like a scruffy dick is half the fun. There'll be a workshop, an (optional) training session and a free fizzy drink. Now drop and give me 20. (Steven Wells)

Who'd win in a no-holds-barred fight using sweet tunes and awesome dance moves rather than blood-rusted cutlasses and shuriken throwing stars? It's an age-old question that'll be decided once and for all this weekend aboard the Captain Lucky. On the upper deck—spinning house, breaks, electro and other dancey blips and beats—is a one-night reunion of Discobotz Imri and Kil0byte along with Wally C vs. Kevin Kong. On the lower deck expect sexy feel-good funk, house and soul from Clayton & Fulcrum and Karoshi. How will the night divide, pirate- and ninja-wise? The upper deck is closer to the sea and will be much rowdier, while the lower deck will be more reserved with more places to hide. You work it out. Did we mention it's all-you-can-drink beer, soda and water? Pirate or ninja attire encouraged. Flintlock pistols and nunchakus not so much. (Dan51)