Bois, boards, baby butches and bed hopping: Argo's angsty fiction debut, centered on the shenanigans of a crew of gender-fluid young women, should perhaps come with an age-appropriate label. Old folks - anyone over 40, more or less - ought to be adolescent at heart, or at least nostalgic for their own adventurous youth, to fully engage with its feisty plot. The effort, however, will be rewarded. The residents of The Creamsickle - a ramshackle San Francisco Mission District Victorian crash pad where art and anarchy reign - are a sexually rambunctious lot. Central to the story is Georgie, a hapless romantic tomboi-turned-stripper with a tough exterior and a yen for self-destructive punk rock girls, and her skater pals Cruzer, a tough Mexican-American girl with a soft heart and a talent for photography, and Soda, who starts the cheerfully unruly story about the queerest of queer families as "her" and ends it as "him." Argo, who is touring this fall with dyke-spirited Sister Spit, brings the energy of live performance to this affectingly offbeat depiction of queer young lives.