The ProFros came around this weekend and the campus bulls started making the rounds to keep the campus dry, but the cats and dames of Stanford fought back by opening a run of speakeasy establishments around the place. The coolest eggs slunk outta their profro-filled dorms all weekend to any one of several clandestine dives. One happening hotspot, the Knotty Knoll, quickly got a name for hot clientele and hotter jazz, making it the prime destination for social dancers and dancing socialites alike. The bruno at the door is no boob, so if the bulls come knocking you’d best be ready to get clammed and make a clean sneak. Anyone caught dropping a dime will find themselves lookin down the wrong end of a bean-shooter real quick. If chinning or bumping gums are your thing and you’re just looking to jaw, the Birdhouse in the basement of Old Union is where you’ll find a cold one and some canaries that can really spit hot fire on the microphone. Now this next one’s not for any bluenoses or chumps, only the real butter and egg men, with some cabbage, ya follow? The Creekeasy, behind the pool in the Oak Creek apartments, is a true blue speakeasy for classy cats. Don’t get pinched without your glad rags, and come with some dough; the giggle juice isn’t cheap but it’s worth it. If you’re on the nut, don’t come looking here for handouts; this is a swanky joint, and the women are some real dolls. If it’s chippies you’re looking for, you might try dropping a dime to my pal Charlie. He may be goofy but he’s no flimflam, he’ll find you a squeeze, long as you’re not some sketchy, hanky fellow. Now that’s the rumble, savvy? I hope to see all you sheiks and shebas out round the scene this weekend. From this newshawk to you, stay cool.