Brutal Force, Whores d'Vor, and Reconnections

Bon soir mes petites pétasses,

I just had one of those NY moments. First let me take you back years ago when I was working at one of those uptown, ladies who lunch, fancy-schmancy department stores selling hope in a tube to skeletal plastic surgery disasters. It was actually a pretty fun gig. The first day I worked there, an adorable Asian lady named Van took me under her wing. She was so sweet that I thought it was a trick. Like, what's your angle lady? Most of the people I was working with were really sweet, even if a little thick (intelligence-wise not body) There was one girl pumping Peggy Mofit realness. I was enthralled! If memory serves, she had the original Sassoon 5 point bob, stacks of lashes, heavy black liner that extended out beyond her eyes, white liner inside that and a pale apricot lip. I was working an asymmetrical coif that was very forward at the time. As with most meaningful relationships, we bonded over our hairdos. Her name was Colleen and unfortunately was already faghag betrothed to the queen at Kevin Aucoin whose name I'm blanking on. He was a kiki too. He had a gay dad and saw his dad at a bathhouse in San Fran but I digress.

My meetings with Colleen were always fun and insightful. We became tanorexic simultaneously and independently. When we saw our brown skinned selves we immediately went into our fave tips for maximum baking. She always had some cool gigs going on and we'd talk about art, fashion, how much more advanced our conceptual style was than others.

So today I ran into her. Pumping a gorge look as always (bleached feathered hair with roots, denim bolero, skin tight pants with slouch boots. correct me if I'm wrong Colleen) We got to talking about conspiracy theories, corporate America enslaving the poor, and fashion. I asked what she was up to.

"Well I'm DJing full-time now. It's been pretty hectic with the Lady Gaga connection."

When she said "lady" it triggered a memory. When she was DJing and doing all her club performances she went by "Lady" something.

"OH MY GOD! Are you Lady Starlight?!?"

"Yeah. You didn't know that?"

I surely did not know that! I mean I know anyone I'm drawn to has major things going for them but it kind of floored me that I was so clueless. Anyway, if you're reading this, good talking to you Colleen!

So Saturday was boy's night at Fuerza Bruta! Boys in the pool! I had already seen it last week during the 20at20. That's when 20 off Broadway shows are $20. I couldn't get anyone to go with me then but my friend Aaron, who is pretty much my only friend that will do cultural activities with me, was back in town. After my rave reviews, plus it being boy's night we were psyched. it's so hard to talk about it without giving too much away. There's definitely lots of the unexpected. I can say that it's standing room only and audience participation. there's a DJ warming up the crowd before and as expected, the boy's night crowd danced a lot more and a lot better!

After the show we were hyped. It really gets you pumped up. Definitely go! Anyway we go back to mine to change for our night out. Sitting on the bench in front of my building is a bridge and tunnel couple devouring each others faces. We decide that it would be hilarious to get on my intercom and pretend to be security asking them to leave. So I get on, "would the couple on the bench please remove yourselves from the premises. We do not tolerate lewd behavior".

As if I would be allowed somewhere like that. We were crying with laughter even though we had no idea what their reaction was. Or if they were even still there to hear it for that matter. Next time I'm getting someone to secretly film it. So after a little Moi Renee,Fad Gadget (shave it!) and cocktails we head out. This when I encountered the cows that inspired this rant...

Ladies, ladies, ladies... I'm talkin' RGs, genetic females, keepers of the wound that shall not heal. My heroes used to be almost exclusively female. Now it seems like the vast majority are boring bimbos. As I walked the streets (don't say it) I felt like I kept walking in on girls in the shower. the rain heightened the effect. girls teetering knock-kneed in pumps they can't walk in. Arms crossed in a vain attempt to cover their exposed cleavage. Tugging down the hem of their stretch jersey minis that were shorter than a tampon string. Now I'm no prude, I think showing skin is great but being boring is not. If you're gonna be practically naked, at least clip on a brooch the size of a watermelon. Or take a page from Lady Gaga's book (a beacon of light in a sea of baby hookers!) and wear a mask or hood. some of these girls really should wear a hood to cover their troglodyte faces.

"What's with all the fat tweens in pumps?" I asked Aaron as we passed, well, a bunch of fat tweens in pumps waiting outside the backstage door after some concert. I decided that is the name of my new band. We get to Eastern Block and kiki with Marc (DJ Tekshur) for a minute.

"Hey Marc, you wanna be in our new band, Fat Tweens in Pumps?"

"yeah! what instrument would I play?"

"bass keytair."

"ok.."

now wait for it... 3...2...1 then Marc realizes.

"wait. but I'm not fat."

it's funny. let it marinate for a while and if you still don't get it I'll explain.

Alright darlings, I'm off to grind. Wish me luck! I've got more stories to tell about that don't worry!