PACIFIC NORTHWESTICA MAJESTICA
Showcased a mini presentation of my underground film ouvre---"One Man Ladies"with a Glennda Orgasm nee Belverio "That Fertile Feeling","The Three Faces of Women" trilogy section "Dr Chris Teen" with Chris "Teen"Martin and Bruce LaBruce, wowing the youthful crowd, many who've only read of my exploits via their academic studies. Hosted the rock portion of Homo-A-Go-Go ala Club Sucker days of wine and gnosis. Nicely attended events, and a diverse popu of kiddies make Homo-A-Go-Go a utopian paradisio in the lovely town of Olympia Washington. Held at the gorgeou Capital Theatre, and well organized by an all-volunteer canibi staff of juicebods and thrombones----delicious each and every one of them.
John Cameron Manheim Steamroller Patrik Swayze Mitchell of Hedvig and the Angry Inch fame, previewed his new Canne Film Festival hit, "Shortbus" which is a lovely exploration of the polymorphously perverse denizens of a hallowed sexxx salon hosted by the geniustrata Justin Bond, who makes for a swelleganza screen presencia. Very attractive cast abounding in the glow of coitek carnel knowledging. Standouts being a nicely peniled young man with longish hair and milky white thrush body, his real life beau, who looks like a young version of Homocore Chicago's Mark "Ears" Freitas and a hard faced Soon Yi Previn look-a-like. A great score included a song by Canada's Hidden Cammeras.
Rode from the aeroport to my comfy Phoenix Inn digs with Mr. Mitchell, who was a pleasant and congenial companion. We're both of the same generation, and Madame Mitchell also DJ'd between band sets, and was an overall charming sprite. One of these days I'd love to take him up on the offer of a visit to his Puerto Rican retreat that he had built from scratch on the island of large uncut endowmentas.
Friday performance highlights included the Czarina of burlesque and intermedia choreography, NYC's Julie Atlas Muz, who never fails to cause gasps of delight, the expert musicianship of Englands King Cheetah, the boyganza of Mikeala's Fiend, chrystaline intity Assacre, the first lady of hip-hip Jenro, the bullet nipples and flat scratch stomachs of The Dead Betties, and the saviours of rock n roll, The Gossip featuring the divine and sexyline Beth of Hollers End. The Gossip should have the acclaim that is bestowed upon the overrated White Stripes. As a band The Gossip are explosive channelers of the best blues traditions, lurking from the muddy swamp waters. The Lady Miss Beth's voice is enchanting, with a berry tone that pays tribute to legendinas Ma Rainey and Bessie Smith, and a stage presence that brings to mind the young Alice Bag. Now I'm believing in rock n roll again.
The last night of the festival featured standout performances by poet Michelle Tea who gave me a copy of her new book, Rose of No Man's Land, which i can't wait to read, sweet country songstress Jessica Rose, Montreal's dazzling Lesbians on X who cleverly take the music of womyn's muzek pioneers Holly Near, Chris Williamson and Trent Furor and give it a modern electro flourish, Will Schwartz of Imperial Teen fame and his new dance music project Hey Willpower that caused a major sensation. Will is looking very teen spirit with his new lusty, muscular, bubblebutt power bitch body, humpy blatino rap star Dead Lee forced fed me his giant willis from the stage, and i eagerly serviced him. who could resist all that fine speciman of a man? Legend Bob Mould also performed and DJ-d the closing party which ended early due to so many after soirees, the biggest one being the train tracks Rim Party that siphon off much of the crowd. In fact my morning ride to the airport flaked on me, i guess after a night of non-stop analingus, one can't be expected to chauffer loud unruly diva queens. After waiting for 30 minutes i just called a taxi and had a surreal moment with the driver and his buddy, two of the fugliest middle aged men i've ever seen in my life. They were spiraling tweekers who talked non-stop, but couldn't drive very fast, and i almost missed my flight because of them. Oh welpsis. I still had a glorious time hanging out with so many wonderous people including major talent and hotticle Donna Dresch of Team Dresch who i love dearly, and i want to give thanks, love and kissy kisses to Miss Tara of Sex Workers, Ed and all the wonderful children of Homo A-Go-Go Directive, who attended to all my lady needs and desires.

SYNARCHIST ENEMIAS
I hate when publicists bug me about when I'm going to write about their movies. I see a lot of movies, so sometimes it takes me a while---OK? Well to be honest I had forgotten about Shadowboxer, starring Tom Cruises #2 dinge dream,Cuba Gooding Jr. and the amazing Helen Mirren who I’ve loved since she was in Roman Polanski’s brilliant screen version of MacBeth. This nutters film seems to be influenced by David Cronenberg’s A History of Violence. Its not as good as that movie, but its not a bad film either. I loved the May/Octoberfest sex scenes between Mirren and fat tittied, bubble butt Gooding Jr and the Feb/August fornicating of Gordon-Leavitt and comedienne Mo’nique, plus that full condom frontal of Stephen Dorff.
The Francoise Ozon film Time to Leave features the stunning Melvil Poupoud (who was so underused in the American film Le Divorce) and the ageless wonder that is acting royal Jeanne Moreau. The best scene is when Mr. Poupoud and his rather plithy member, mount and plow his young androgynous lover----yummy.

MENDACITY IN THE AIR
One of my oldest and dearest friends, and sister of the clothe Glenn Belverio has written a dazzling new tome, Confessions From the Velvet Ropes about New York’s top doorman Thomas Onorato, who use to do the door at Squeezebox at Don Hill’s a place that I performed at with frequency during the 90s. The book is rising on the New York Times best seller list, and is a wonderful summertime read. Glenn Belverio is a geniustrata writer and wit, and all his charms are reflected in this sensational book. All the tired club owners of Los Angeles need to heed what is written in Confessions. Especially these spurious types like Sam Nazarian with his partner Brett Bolthouse, that think just because they have oodles of money that makes them arbiters of taste and style. Well it doesn’t. If I read another article about this Nazarian character where it says he’s 31 years old, I’m good to vomit. The man doesn’t look a day over 50. And with the criteria of these tacky new clubs that cater to this bottle service crap of people paying gabs of money for expensive alcohol---the ultimate of tired. I guess one has to thank the ostentatiousness of the rap and hip hop scene for ushering that into play. True hip clubs as Belverio makes clear, and any one who has been to my events knows, involves selecting patrons based on their personal style, overall originality, quirky beauty, alluring ugliness, or interesting work credentials.
So go to Amazon.com and order your copy of Glenn’s book before I finish this sentence.

CHARLOTTE RAMPLING IS ON THE LINE
Sung Yi Previn better watch out or she is going to get replaced by a much younger girl, namely Scarlette Johanssen. The Woodster as in Woody Allen is so in love with the buxom Miss Scarlette that I wouldn’t be surprised if he made the star of his new movie Scoop, his regular leading lady. Its so obvious when watching the movie that he is beyond smitten kitten. I love Mr. Allen, but he is one neurotica horndoggedy old koot if ever I saw one, and I’m really feeling for Miss Mia Farrow and her 114 Rosemarried babies.
***
The Divine Charlotte Rampling in the movie Heading South gets her lady gnut with juicy jubas jubilee Menothy Cesar. I gather the French director Laurent Cantet is a major DINGE QUEEN with all the tight bodied, bubble butted and big dicked Mandingos he fills the screen with----delicious.
***
When it comes to one of the best racks in Hollywood, I’m torn between Fantastic Four male ingenue Chris Evans and Jesse Metcalfe who gets to strut his bountiful busoms in John Tucker Must Die. I’m begging you Jesse to please do something with those overly plucked eyebrows. They are such a distraction from your chesty morgan spurlock.
***
My lady guity pleasure: Clerks II. Thank god I get invited to free screenings and I don’t have to pay for movies, but this item from that rolly polly portly pepperpot Kevin Smith is hilarious. Especially the porch monkey bit. Poor pretty Rosario Dawson who has to kiss the hideous lead actor, and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Mr. Smith wasn’t sucking on the sweet fat titties and munching out the hairless bunghole of super lovesexy Jason Mewes who plays Jay to his Silent Bob. Just a thought.
***
The Lady in the Water should have stayed there, or gotten advice from The Lady in the Lake. See what happens when one gets a piddling of success in Hollywoodland. They lose their natural borne mind.
***
One of my dear friends Meesh is working on the Tyra Banks America’s Top Model Show and she is on strike. Here is some info so you can support their union efforts:

Hi Guys,
For those of you who don't know, the entire writing staff at America's Next Top Model is on strike (myself included). It is the usual Norma Rae scenario....we want health insurance and other protections offered by being part of the writers guild. It's been a crazy whirlwind the last couple of weeks, and I can fill you in more later if you are interested. We started picketing on Friday, and will continut starting tomorrow. If anyone is interested in coming to hang out and add bodies to our demonstration, let me know and I will give you details. If you can't come, but will be on the west side, at least drive by and give us a honk. We are on the corner of Sepulveda and Santa Monica. Wish us luck!
Below are some info links, if you are interested.
http://wga.org/subpage_newsevents.aspx?id=1993
This is where the WGA is posting clips on the main website

http://www.realityunited.org/
This is the recently launched website for the reality organizing
campaign - we are tracking clips there as well.

CHARLOTTE RAMPLING IS ON THE LINE
Sung Yi Previn better watch out or she is going to get replaced by a much younger girl, namely Scarlette Johanssen. The Woodster as in Woody Allen is so in love with the buxom Miss Scarlette that I wouldn’t be surprised if he made the star of his new movie Scoop, his regular leading lady. Its so obvious when watching the movie that he is beyond smitten kitten. I love Mr. Allen, but he is one neurotica horndoggedy old koot if ever I saw one, and I’m really feeling for Miss Mia Farrow and her 114 Rosemarried babies.
***
The Divine Charlotte Rampling in the movie Heading South gets her lady gnut with juicy jubas jubilee Menothy Cesar. I gather the French director Laurent Cantet is a major DINGE QUEEN with all the tight bodied, bubble butted and big dicked Mandingos he fills the screen with----delicious.
***
When it comes to one of the best racks in Hollywood, I’m torn between Fantastic Four male ingenue Chris Evans and Jesse Metcalfe who gets to strut his bountiful busoms in John Tucker Must Die. I’m begging you Jesse to please do something with those overly plucked eyebrows. They are such a distraction from your chesty morganspurlock.
***
My lady guity pleasure: Clerks II. Thank god I get invited to free screenings and I don’t have to pay for movies, but this item from that rolly polly portly pepperpot Kevin Smith is hilariouk. (new word) Especially the porch monkey bit, and the two ugly leads, and poor pretty Rosario Dawson who has to kiss one of them. For gods sakes.
I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Mr. Smith wasn’t sucking on the sweet fat titties, and munching out the hairless bunghole of super lovesexy Jason Mewes who plays Jay to his Silent Bob. Just a thought.
***
The Lady in the Water should have stayed there, or gotten advice from The Lady in the Lake. See what happens when one gets a piddling of success in Hollywoodland. They lose their natural borne mind.
***
One of my dear friends Meesh is working on the Tyra Banks America’s Top Model Show and she is on strike. Here is some info so you can support their union efforts:

Hi Guys,
For those of you who don't know, the entire writing staff at America's Next Top Model is on strike (myself included). It is the usual Norma Rae scenario....we want health insurance and other protections offered by being part of the writers guild. It's been a crazy whirlwind the last couple of weeks, and I can fill you in more later if you are interested. We started picketing on Friday, and will continut starting tomorrow. If anyone is interested in coming to hang out and add bodies to our demonstration, let me know and I will give you details. If you can't come, but will be on the west side, at least drive by and give us a honk. We are on the corner of Sepulveda and Santa Monica. Wish us luck!
Below are some info links, if you are interested.
http://wga.org/subpage_newsevents.aspx?id=1993
This is where the WGA is posting clips on the main website

http://www.realityunited.org/
This is the recently launched website for the reality organizing
campaign - we are tracking clips there as well.

LE TEMPS QUE RESTE
One of the great things about having gone to a fancy Swiss finishing school (Le Rosey)on scholarship as a child is my connection to European aristocrats and royals. Its come in handy over the years for both me, and some of my friends who found themselves in boiling hot water abroad because of some drug related offense or whathaveyou. Luckily i was able to make one phone call and relieve the situation. Being that i was born into staunch poverty, its amazing that i can weild an arsenol when need be.
Now that I'm more or lessed based in Europe, i can't wait to party with Crown Prince Philip of Sweden aka Duke of Varmland. He is a major Ms. Gorgeous piece of Scandanavian butt cloister, and he adores me and is very flirtatious with that cruel club of his. When I'm in Graz, Austria i hope to spend time with that sultry thrombone Amedeo of Austria whose father Archduke Lorenz of Austria-Este use to be hot when he was young(thats when i first met him), but is now a bit on the trollish side.
I'd better be careful not to let lovesexy Gonzalo Miro catch me with Edwardo Cruz, the juicy pop star brother of Penelope Cruz. The two men hate each other because of an incident between me and Eugenia the Duchess of Montoro, whose mother is the Duchess of Alba who i use to hang with until she got into a knockout lesbiana sluggo with Paula Marzotto of the famed Italian fashion dynasty, and Paula's daughter Princess Beatrice Orromeo is now fooling around with studkin bullfighter Francisco Rivera who has a pretty little daughter named Cayetona whose mother is Eugenia----its all so complicated and confusing that i have trouble keeping track of it all, so i don't expect you to be able to. And did i mention that my good pal Lady Didi(Diana) Judd whose father is Visconte something or other is related to Prince Harry's girlfriend Chelsy Davy----let me end all this here and now.
I'm not known as a modern day Elsa Maxwell for nothing kids.

RAMPART REPORT
My other Rice cousin Connie Rice, just published the controversial Rampart Report about the LA Police Department's relationship with the minority community, and in it she makes the same prediction that I've constantly warned---Namely that something big is about to burst that will make the LA Riots of '65 and '92 look like an English country garden party. Yes, when civil war in the USA happens, like every other trend, it will begin in Los Angeles. Beware and take heed.
***
On a sad note another pal of mine died recently. Tracy Thielan of Action Box Records and the quirky band Tracy and the Hindenburg Ground Crew. Tracy was 43 and overdosed. His band use to perform regularly at my old Club Sucker in Silverlake, Tracy's famous friends Viggo Mortensen and Quentin Tarantino would always come to support him. Tracy was a loveable burly queen with an eye for a young boy with a pretty face and plump package. He even got to suck off Viggo once.
***
Was at a mainstream bookstore the other day and started reading Scar Tissue, by Anthony Kiedes of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. I'm the same age as Anthony and Flea, and we ran in the same circles so a lot of their memories of the 80s and 90's are also my memories. Fertile La Toyah Jackson even went to Fairyfax High School with them along with Timothy Hutten, Michele Green of LA Law fame and Bryon Allen (nee Foulks) I was surprised that while Anthony mentions Gary Allen in the book, he doesn't go into any of he and Flea's homo escapades, which were as numerous as their hetero adventures. Gary Allen for those of you who don't remember or weren't born yet, was this big, black faggot singer who was vaguely R&B new wave---very pleated pants/shoulder pads, and more or less was the sugar daddy and pimp of Flea who did a little bit of hustling in his youth. Flea has a notoriously large schlong that many a mansis coveted. Gary was featured in the same special issue of Interview Magazine that highlighted me and my Afro Sisters in the mid 1980s. The issue with Cindy Lauper on the cover, and the last one actually supervised by Andy Warhol himself.
***
i was recently clocked for my love affair with musician John Dragonetti of the band The Submarines. Why does everyone get into my sex business? If you all must know the details, let me set the record straight. Our thingy was more a slight fling, and now John is happy to be back with his true lady love Blake Hazard who incidentally is the great grandaughter of F. Scott Fitzgerald.
***
Yes, yes and more yes. I still occasionally hook up with the basketball player Vladimir Radmanovic. I call him my tall baby vampire. He looks a lot younger then his 25 years. Go ahead say it, I'm robbing the cradle AGAIN. The poor kid looked disapointed when i didn't get excited about his new contract with The Lakers, but what do i care about Sports.

HIGH BARBARY

One of my favorite golden era Hollywood stars died, June Allyson. She had one of the brightest, warmest smiles in tinseltown and a sexy husky voice. She wasn’t the best singer or dancer, but made up for it with that MGM charm. I loved her in the 1947 musical Good News opposite Peter Lawford, and Best Foot Forward(1943) with Lucille Ball, Nancy Walker and Gloria deHaven who she also starred with in Two Girls and a Sailor (1944) that featured sloppy holed faggots Van Johnson and Tom Drake. She was also known for being the remake queen of the mid 50s starring in remakes of It Happened One Night and The Women. One of her best dramatic films was a little known flicker called The Shrike (1955) co-starring Jose Ferrer, which I remember seeing on TV late at night in the mid 1970s. Ms. Allyson went against type and portrayed a harpy’s harpy. She was marvelous.

3D SUP BIN
One of my pals who has great taste in films and music, sent me these reviews of the new Richard Glatzer/Wash West film. I haven't seen the movie yet, but the premise of cultural tourism doesn't exactly exite me.

From Village Voice:
Wan and cutesy, Richard Glatzer and Wash Westmoreland's QUINCEAÑERA is most
notable for making explicit the slumming subtext of many an earnest Sundance
crowd-pleaser. Shot near the directors' own Echo Park residence and focused
largely on the neighborhood's Latino community (in particular a newly out,
tough gay boy and his possibly immaculately pregnant cousin), it's less
about culture-clash affirmation than gentrifiers' guilt. DENNIS LIM
From Film Comment:
Headline: And the Winner Isn't...
Sundance awards mediocrity while the standouts go home empty-handed
By Amy Taubin

Indifferently scripted, directed, acted, shot, and edited, Quinceanera is
less a film than a calling card for a Showtime series. A well-meaning,
cartoonish, though not satirical, comedy about gentrification, sexuality,
and multicultural relationships in the Los Angeles neighborhood of Echo
Park, Quinceanera pays lip service to political issues while sidestepping
any problem that could interfere with its feel-good ambiance. Thus
everyone's favorite uncle dies conveniently in his sleep so that we are
spared the sight of him being evicted by the upwardly mobile gay couple
who've bought the house and who've also recruited his hunky nephew for
threesomes. Similarly, a pregnant 16-year-old is reconciled with her dad
after it is medically proven that she's still a virgin. Heaven forbid the
A-word should be mentioned.

A SCANNER PORTLY PEPPERPOT
My gorgeous pal, the writer and global editrix Glenn Belverio pays homage to Hindi heartthrob Hrithik Roshan on A Shaded View on Fashion:
http://dianepernet.typepad.com/diane/2006/06/while_the_rest_.html
Mr. Roshan has become the Bollywood Superman, and speaking of Super Sperm-man I guess I should mention something about the films that I’ve seen in the last few months. I’m not really a film reviewer, sure I’m sent invites to private screenings and also videotape screeners. I do have a reputation as a tastemaker, and some people take all that so seriously, which of course I don’t. But since I enjoy getting all the delicious Star Jonesian swag, I’d better return the favour and write something.
First of all Superman Returns, directed by my former f*ck buddycan Miss Bryan Singer, one sloppy bottom who always forgets to douche. All that money$ involved and the flick is dullardsville. Loved Sings "Apt Pupil"
and The Usual Suspects. I also enjoyed his Mutant flickers as pure mindless entertainment, but this installation of Superman is only exciting when Marlon Brando’s image and voice is heard, and when your best performance is from someone who is dead, your movie is in trouble. Young beauty Brandon Routh has potential and otherworldly green screen matinee idol looks. They shouldn’t have photoshopped his bulge away, it would have given the proceedings some spark.
The Devil Wears Prada is bright and breezy. After seeing this film and Prairie Home Companion I now adore Meryl Streep. I use to hate her, and Miss Hathaway should star as a young Judy Garland in a film biopic. Considering this is a movie about fashion, Pat Fields clothes are all wrong-----way too cabaret-ish.
The brilliant British girl who plays the second assistant was the only character dressed appropriately.
And my horndoggedy pal Larry Clark scores high with Wassup Rockers. The main latin boyganza Jonathan Vasquez is mighty fine, ---a nice package in those stovepipe jeans, with a sizzlean musical score of south central punk bands.
I hate comedians and though I find him somewhat of an asphalt cutie, Adam Sandler is a deeply disturbed humanoid. His starring vehicle Click attests to that. It tries to be all sentimental at the end, but that is only masking some excrement that is beyond ill, something tells me that Mr. Sandler, like most comics is on the verge of committing suicide. Someone needs to intervene.
I love chunky Jack Black and really enjoyed Nacho Libre, which obviously he stole the idea from seeing one of Michele Carr of the Velvet Hammer’s Lucha VaVoom spectacles. Now Jack Black is what Adam Sandler wishes he was, but he’ll never be.
And did I mention how much I enjoyed the sexy Korean thriller Typhoon? The lead actors are two of the yummiest Asian men. How I’d like to munch on there fresh dugouts. That brings me to Lower City from Brazil’s Sergio Machada (Madame Sata) and the beautiful bodies of Alice Braga(Sonja’s niece) smoldering jubas Lazaro Ramos and lovesexy bubble butt Wagner Moura. And I cried when Antony sang in the Leonard Cohen docu-musical I’m Your Man.
At the airport I ran into an old dinge queen trick from the early 80s. The only reason I recognized him was that he still dresses the same. The man is British, wears big red framed Sally Jessy Raphael eye glasses and matching red canvas shoes. When I met him he was in his early 30s, skinny with male pattern baldness. He looked a little bit like Keith Haring crossed with a goofy Colin Firth. I wasn’t attracted to him, but he pursued me heavily which is always a turnon for me. He was actually cheating on his boyfriend with me. His lover was the TV actor Ernest Thomas who played Raj on the ABC black sitcom What’s Happening. He was always ragging on his lover, who he supported financially, and also his lover’s mother, who lived in South Central LA. I laughed out loud when I found out that Ernest Thomas was such a snippy snow and status queen that he refused to go south of Wilshire or east of LaBrea. At the terminal my former trick was giving me the hairy eyeball, but didn’t recognize me---thank god. He actually looks almost the same, just 25 years older.
On a sad note, John-John, aka Bush Bunny committed suicide by hanging himself in Griffith Park near one of John Rechy’s baby oiled leaves. Bush Bunny was named as such for the many times he was arrested for public sex in the parks of LA and Ventura County and was a mainstay of Ventura’s Wilde Planet crowd----Dora, Boofy St. Marie, Helen Bed of Retail Slut, Mrs. Jeff Burroughs and Mark Maxwell. Bush Bunny was also apart of the Amoeba Records and Filmworks collective that also included Keith Holland and Quasi O’Shea. My favorite memory of Bush was when he fell out of a tree in West Hollywood’s Blow Job Park performing fellatio on someone. He was always a happy-go-lucky hornpig, but the hardknock quality that is LA and the gay world finally proved to be his undoing.

VALSEURS
For those of you who think that my blog is complete fantasy, which seems absurd in that I write things that aren’t exactly flattering to myself, remember that truth is stranger then fiction. And yes I REALLY do get emails sent to me or my assistant for TV and movie roles. Below is a copy of one:

-----Original Message-----
From: Suzanne Broderick
Sent: Fri, 2 Jun 2006 17:01:28 -0700
Subject: Vaginal Davis

Hi,

I'm the casting director for "Breaking Up With Shannen Doherty" - a new show for the Oxygen network - and I'd like to speak with you about the possibility of Vaginal Davis appearing in a segment of our show. The show will be taped in Los Angeles on June 14. Please call me at (323) 436-0124 so I can give you more information about the show. Thanks.

Best regards,
Suzanne Broderick

***
And this email came from Canadian auteur Bruce La Bruce, who is a good friend of mine. I’ve performed in two of his films and he acted in one of mine. Some people out in cyberland don’t believe that I’m a real person, and that I’m a figment of the imagination of my webmaster Larry Bob. These internet techies did their computer finagling and traced my web page to Larry Bob’s web page. Well the reason why they are connected is that my webpage piggy backs on his. So that alone brings them to the brilliant deduction that I don’t exist.

Oh welpsis, here is Bruce’s emug:

DEAR DOCTOR DAVIS: Well you know will munro and lyn mcneil now run this cute
club the Beaver, and it would be absolutely perfect for bricktops, Ontario. But please consult with me as well so that I can try to be in town for at least part of your runs. What's new, pussy?
I struggle with life and death in this foul, fallow world.
Hey, I was thinking, what ever happened to lisa suckdog? And also, what was the name of those two hillbillies(Psychodrama) who used to pull shit out of their asses and work glory holes on stage and then chase people out of the club with handfuls of shit and down the street? They kept one of their members in a pig pen, if I recall, in the Ozarks. That was back when the world was simpler. I'm going
mondo new york from july 6 to 12. Gonna visit glenn belverio and lend immoral support for his book events. Also he and I are guess djing at Miss Shapes. Also they
are displaying J.D.s at the Visionaire gallery in a show. You should have
FLTJ there.
rick castro’s hollywood gallery Antebellum should be called Auntie Bellum?

I also have a photograph in a show at PS 1. Big whoop. One stinkin' photograph. I
loathe art. I just wrote a manifesto for the manifesto issue of C Magazine.
I'll include it below.

I'm writing the intro for the Butt book. How cum you
haven't been in Butt? Do you want me to pitch you? I think they're kind of
dragophobic. But you could do it as Buster Boote. Did you hear about Kevin
AuAviance getting hate crimed in the east village? My favourite part was
that they said he wasn't in drag, but that he was wearing something like a
feather boa and tight vinyl Daisy Dukes. If it walks like a duck in drag...
I'm so evil. But you already know that. Did you ever read the faux obituary
I wrote about Kevin AuCoin? I think I only showed it to slava. I don't know
what made me do it. It was so mean. But it's black humour, you know. I mean,
I only met him once, and he was a bit rude to me, but that's not why I did
it. I just corrupted his real obit in the ny times. His last book was called
Face Forward, and I said that it was being changed posthumously to Face
Down. Sometimes I just have a little tourette's devil in me. It's very
Sibyl. Oh well. I'll probably be dead soon too, and then people can write
nasty obits about me. Mr. LaBruce never married. Did you see my article
about the Che lawsuit in BlackBook? I reprinted it and the unedited version
on my Myspace blog (www.myspace.com/brucelabruce). Why aren't you in
myspace. All the kids are doing it. Ok delovely, I gotta dego. Keep Movin'.
Xxx blab P.s. We've got to do Ulrike's Brain on stage in Berlin and you
have to play Angela Davis in it. I've been doing research, like watching the
Brain That Wouldn't Die and They Saved Hitler's Brain and listening to They
Saved Hitler's Cock and re-watching Guerilla: The Taking of Patty Hearst and
State of Seige, which is so great and prescient. Susanne will play the head
of Ulrike Meinhoff, but Hitler's head will also make an appearance. I was
thinking of asking Daniel to help me write a libretto and make it into an
opera. Or an operetta. Or a rock opera. It would be so much funny.

***
The Purple Resistance Army (a.k.a., the PRA), and it¹s auxiliary wing,
the Purple Menace Society (PMS: women¹s division) is a united and federated
grouping of members of different races and genders and socialistic political
parties of the oppressed people of The United States of Canada and America,
who have, under homosexual and minority leadership, formed and joined The
Purple Federated Republic (PFR) and have agreed to struggle together on
behalf of all their people and races and sexes and political parties'
interests in the gaining of Freedom and Self Determination and Independence
for all faggots and others. The PRA declares revolutionary war against the
Fascist Capitalist and Largely Heterosexual Class and all its agents of
murder, oppression and exploitation. We support by force of Limp Wrists the
just struggles of all oppressed fairies for self-determination and
independence and hereby offer to all sexual liberation movements,
revolutionary workers¹ groups, and people¹s organizations our Total Aid(s)
and support for the struggle for freedom and justice for all people and
races and genders!
On behalf of all its constituents and affiliates and various sissy
sycophants, the PRA hereby identifies and extrapolates upon the following
pop cultural positions that should be followed in order to activate and
actuate the aforementioned principles in an opportunistic and propitious
fashion. Attention must be paid to the following edicts in order to gain
membership to the Purple Resistance Army. Failure to adhere to the general
principles delineated herewith may result in humiliation, teasing, taunting,
in-house gay bashing, cuckolding, cold-shouldering, and a general reading to
filth of the individual in question.

1) Never Trust Anyone Under 30. A reversal (see: Counterintuitivity) of the
old proverb from a previous generation that exhorts fellow comrades never to
trust anyone over the age of 30, this neo-axiom of the PRA is designed both
as an historical broadside against the age-ism that has become endemic to
society since the advent of the industrial revolution, and as a reminder
that, under the new world order, tender youth, a formerly fairly reliable
bellwether of rebellion, anti-authoritarianism, and non-conformist
behaviour, has long since lost its counter-cultural compass and can no
longer be trusted or relied upon to instigate or disseminate revolutionary
ideals a priori. Although it may be misinterpreted as an encouraging sign
that voter turnout in the eighteen to twenty-five year age demographic has
dwindled in the past several decades in western democracies, it is by no
means a dependable indication that the youth of today is anything less than
a vast, empty cadre of reactionary, close-minded clones who will swallow any
sort of predigested pablum that is placed in front of them, including, but
not restricted to, badly realized computer-generated images (see also: The
Aesthetic Dementia), political doublespeak, marriage (including, sadly, the
gay kind), commercial pandering, substandard reality television, corporate
hip hop, pre-fabricated celebrities, hyper-violent video games, respect of
property and copyright, and other untold forms of popular prestidigitation.
The current Œyouth revolt¹ in France, wherein young people are fighting for
the right to gain permanent job security (whilst in their twenties! See
also: Revolutionary Reactionaries) is a far cry from the events of May ¹68
in which a popular uprising of French people from diverse ethnic, cultural,
class, and age groups, including communist and anarchist factions, roused to
action by a continuing trend of western imperialist adventurism in Southeast
Asia, sought to challenge the very control of the ruling classes by
espousing ultra left wing causes, including educational and social reform
and the advocacy of sexual freedom and free love.
2) Get To Know Your Asshole. The Purple Resistance Army entreats all males,
but particularly the self-proclaimed ³heterosexuals² (also known as
³breeders², although this term may now apply occasionally to ³homosexuals² ­
See once again: Revolutionary Reactionaries) to get in touch with their
assholes, by any means necessary. Marcuse might have had something like this
in mind when he talked about the surplus repression imposed on its people by
an ³affluent society.² In an industrialized society which has reached a
point of abundance that is characterized by the production of ³unproductive
goods² ­ tech gadgets, excess waste, planned obsolescence, luxury items,
excessive military build-up, etc. ­ a certain repression over and above the
one necessary to advance culture is forced on its citizens in order to exert
a particular notion of ³normalcy² that is more aligned with conformist
social and institutional attitudes rather than ideas of individual
fulfillment. The redundant, unnecessary work upon which advanced capitalism
is predicated, characterized by a deadening or stupefying effect ­ a kind of
zombie state when performed by the working or middle class subject, or, in
the case of the white collar workers, by a moral indifference and callous
aggressiveness ­ results in a distraction from their own personal and sexual
needs. A person who functions normally in such a sick society is himself
sick, while it is only the ³nonadjusted² individual who can achieve a
healthy acting out against the overly strict restraints and demands of the
dominant culture. It is such a society that prevents constitutionally
bisexual men from exploring their homosexuality, and in particular, from
getting to know their assholes. Many men can spend their entire lives not
experiencing the pleasure of the anus, when it has been well documented that
it is the very location of the male G-spot and thereby invaluable for
healthy orgasmic release. Neglect of this region leads to poor prostate
health, general irritability, spiritual malaise, or worse. A carefully
placed finger or fingers up the ass of any one of a number of members of the
Bush or Harper administrations would greatly reduce expenditures on the
military and Star Wars technology, curtail the doctrine of preemptive
aggression against oil-rich, Middle East nations (most of whose leaders are
already well acquainted with their own assholes and those of their Gulf
Coast neighbours), and a whole host of other bellicose, morally
insupportable policies based on surplus repression and anal indifference.
Members of the PRA are encouraged to help any adult male over the age of
consent to explore and befriend his own asshole so that others do not have
to suffer as a consequence. Anal Liberation Now!
3) Discourse Sucks! Although it may fly in the face of conventional wisdom
concerning the predisposition of homosexuals to the appreciation of art and
artistic practice (See: Counterintuitivity), the Purple Resistance Army does
not in general support or condone artists or, in particular, art discourse,
although bullshit artists and their discourses are provisionally accepted.
The art world has become a purely reactive and reactionary institution whose
trends and tendencies are determined and circumscribed by the broader
conservative cultural forces and socio-economic policies of an exploitative
capitalist ruling class, having long since foregone its function as a
vanguard or avant-garde, or as serving a therapeutic, cathartic, or even
critical function, let alone a political or revolutionary one. Devised by a
laissez-faire haute bourgeoisie, art discourse, an Emperor dressed in what
he believes are the most au current designer clothes, gets lost in the
elaborate, solipsistic layers of his own nakedness, lording his
self-importance over an unwitting and uncomprehending public whose idea of
art is the fruit in a slot machine. Modern trends in art include escapist
folk fantasies involving psilocybin unicorns and golden-tressed maidens with
dirty feet locked in pornographic carnal embrace, a new twist on a purely
decorative seventies throwback that reinvigorates questionable commodity
fetishism. More conceptual, ³dialogic² art, including the use of readymades
or relational art practice, while less commoditizable than traditional art
objects, is nonetheless reified and marketed by the same hierarchical
economic institutions and international exhibition superstructures that
confine it to the amusement of an insider elite. As an alternative to the
art orthodoxy, the PRA promotes finger painting, free range graffiti,
tattooing (although not on pigs), home movies, ad hoc shrines ­ or, for
conceptualists, practical jokes, pranks, hoaxes, and public nudity not
organized and sanctioned by institutionalized art stars.
4) Counterintuitivity. The Purple Resistance Army, a militant band of
insurgent sissies, must not succumb to the current cycle of cynicism and
apathy that has infiltrated and destroyed the spirit of resistance,
subversion and highly civil disobedience that was once at the very core of
the homosexual psyche. In today¹s topsy-turvy, wrong is right,
revolutionarily reactionary world, the members of the PRA must learn to use
counterintuitivity to fight its enemies. The dictates of common sense are no
longer to be trusted in this poisoned environment.
5) Death to Celebrity! Celebrity culture has become the biggest boondoggle
of the modern world, and members of the PRA must do everything in their
power to destroy it. Much of the blame for the rise of celebrity culture has
been laid at the dainty feet of Andy Warhol (peace and blessings be upon
him), whose famous phrase ³In the future everyone will be famous for fifteen
minutes² has been wildly misinterpreted as an endorsement of celebrity for
all as a kind of democratic principle in a capitalist context. His real
prediction for the future was probably more along the lines of an Orwellian
(or perhaps Kafkaesque) dystopic nightmare in which each individual in
society is forced, by means of an assembly line or factory model, into a
limited window of fame/labour precisely fifteen minutes in duration, none
more significant or important than the next, each turned out like so many
car parts and discarded when it has outworn its usefulness. This is the same
model Warhol used to produce his early movies and art work: objects
assembled by a series of poorly paid workers and manufactured in his
³Factory², mass-produced and sold in a free market economy. (Although Warhol
was, himself, an artist, celebrity, and capitalist nonpareil, the Purple
Resistance Army grants him enormous leeway for his overwhelming contribution
to hypersensitive, tortured sissyhood.) Today, the worship of celebrity has
become a kind of neurotic compulsion that turns otherwise salient and
reasonable human beings into slavering, sycophantic boobs who care more
about the excruciating minutiae of the lifestyles of the filthy rich and
unjustly famous than about their own, infinitely more authentic, everyday
lives. Celebrity itself has become a disease that mangles and maims the egos
of those who suffer it, reducing them to delusional paranoiacs who should be
at the very least, not paid very much attention to, at best, deprogrammed.
Down with Overexposure! Up with Anonymity!
6) Show Business is Politics/Politics is Show Business. Awards shows receive
their own special category of condemnation from the PRA for their smug
self-congratulatoriness and crass commercialism, propping up, as they do,
the celebrity infrastructure by lording the wealth and power of the
privileged few over the increasingly impoverished, debt-ridden anonymous
masses. There are now more award shows and presentations than there are
categories to define them, each one a cleverly contrived and predetermined
spectacle designed by the various industries who manufactures it to present
the illusion of democratic process and free market competition. The Oscars
have become the Holy Grail ­ or golden calf ­ of the entertainment industry,
an award conferring on its recipient both increased status and bargaining
power as commoditized icon. (Not to put too fine a point on it, but the free
gift bags handed out to celebrities at such awards are worth considerably
more than the yearly income of the average Canmerican family.) Celebrities
now campaign for major awards like seasoned (read: corrupt) politicians,
hiring teams of strategists and publicists to promote their cause, while
politicians, an increasing number of them crossing over from the
entertainment field, are styled and cosmetically sold to the public like
programmatic B-list movie stars. The PRA holds special contempt and
condemnation for George Clooney, a liberal star posturing as the rebel
dissenter. Recently accepting his Oscar, Clooney eschewed any overt
political statement ­ while his country is bogged down in an unjust war - in
favour of professing his proud support and admiration for ³The Academy², the
ultimate Hollywood establishment organ that controls the film industry in
the elitist and cabalistic, hierarchical style of Freemasonry. Gone are the
days of the likes of Vanessa Redgrave (peace and blessings be upon her),
who, while accepting her supporting Oscar in 1977 for playing a Jewish
freedom fighter during the Nazi occupation, gave a shout out to the
Palestine Liberation Organization. Even the most overtly Œpolitical¹ stars
today remain inside players who perpetuate the corrupt, nepotistic
plutocracy that is Hollywood by not only showing up to every conceivable
promotional event, but also actively campaigning for awards and accolades.
The PRA strongly encourages homosexuals to challenge their faggoty
predilection for organizing and participating in any and all parades,
festivals, pageants, and ceremonies that support and promote corporate
enterprise. Death to the Hollywood insect who preys upon the life of the
people!
7) The Tyranny of Stylists/The Aesthetic Dementia. Modern styling has become
particularly offensive to the PRA and the PMS, especially considering that
it¹s an invisible fifth column of our tragically misguided misogynistic
homosexual brothers, from stylists to designers, who have dictated and
enforced the grotesque style imperatives that now govern the image of women
in the western world. From the unimaginative, uniform blond frosted tips and
streaks, to the blow-up sex doll collagen-injected lips and over-inflated
fake bosoms, to the grotesquely immobilized Botoxed faces and plastic
surgery disasters, a new model army of faux lap-dancers have willingly
conformed to the style of the hyper-objectified woman, thereby capitulating
to the male gaze in a way that might previously have only occurred in the
worst nightmares of Laura Mulvey. (Cruelly, the advent of high definition
media technology only serves to exaggerate and intensify the monstrosity of
these highly engineered viral vixens on television and, to a lesser degree,
in the movies.) The PRA and its affiliates always encourage personal style
and individualism over tiresome trends, particularly when those trends
encourage women to approximate the image of female porn stars and strippers
who are themselves already a distorted and hideous manifestation of the
female image as conceived by the exploitative, male-dominated adult fantasy
industry. Autonomous and/or amateur sex trade workers with personal flair
and a feminist sensibility are, of course, welcome members of the PRA.
Although there are too many to enumerate, two other areas of modern
aesthetic dementia have been singled out for formal castigation by the PRA.
Firstly, the advent of digital effects and CGI is a particular effrontery to
the delicate sensibilities of our lavender membership. Even a technology in
its infancy should not be responsible for this much garish, crude, and
meretricious imagery. The perpetrators of CGI also have the dubious
distinction of removing all the visceral stimulation and sense of adventure
from the popular media. Nothing can replace the excitement, in the glory
days of analogue, of a vacant model or actor being forced to share the same
temporal space as a man-eating feline or a predatory bird eager to pluck out
his or her eye. The manufacturing (i.e., faking) of high-risk stunts
digitally deprives the audience of its most precious form of entertainment:
the potential evisceration and/or termination of overpaid, privileged, and
totally expendable celebrities. Secondly, the PRA calls out the exhausted
kingdom of hip hop for its negative contribution to fashion and style. From
its ostentatious signifiers of ³bling² ­ ridiculously enormous gold dollar
signs slung around slouched necks; tacky, overstated jewelry and
accessories; pimped out, gas-guzzling showboat cars ­ to its propensity to
engage in stylistic excess, infantilism, conspicuous consumption, and rank
gangsterism, the hip hop and rap contingent has taken nouveau riche
posturing to new levels of banality. Compare this to the sleek and elegant,
militant quasi-Marxist style of Angela Davis and the Black Panthers from the
era of true black revolution and you may be inspired to burn, baby, burn
your Fiddy Cent and The Game CDs and paraphernalia. (Incidentally, no
conscientious PRA member should buy CDs, hip hop or otherwise: free
downloading from the internet not only challenges the corrupt profiteering
of monopolistic music conglomerates and the enforcement of overly strict
copyright practices, but it also reduces the use of plastic and other
non-biodegradable materials unnecessarily used in the packaging of
entertainment products. File sharing is not only true democracy in action,
but it¹s also environmentally friendly! And remember, intellectual property
is theft!
8) Club Pamela Anderson. By Club Pamela Anderson, the PRA is not referring
to an organization represented by or supporting the over-hyped star. It
means club her, like a baby seal. From her recent appearance on the Comedy
Network as the subject of a celebrity roast (with Courtney ³Doll Parts²
Love, by her side ­ Kurt Cobain must be permanently spinning in his grave),
to her hostessing gig at the underwhelming Juno Awards, which presented
the sad spectacle of Canada¹s rad indie rockers salivating over her enormous
pair of commodities (see: Never Trust Anyone Under 30), Anderson represents
pretty much everything that is wrong with western free market capitalism.
She needs to be, if not regulated, garrotted.
9) The Charm Offensive. Counterintuitively, PRA members must always be kind,
courteous, and polite. The fact that the world is going to hell in a Kate
Spade handbag is no excuse for rudeness.
10) Down with Revolutionary Reactionaries. A relatively recent
phenomenon, the term revolutionary reactionaries refers to formerly radical
groups of disenfranchised minorities and/or oppressed peoples who are now
fighting, sometimes violently, for the right to be conservative, stable, and
inert. From the aforementioned French riots, during which so-called
socialist youths donned balaclavas and sacked the libraries of the Sorbonne
(the very site of the genesis of May ¹68!) to promote their fight for
sedentary, entrenched job security; to angry gays and lesbians struggling to
participate in marriage - a traditional social and legal institution
designed to bind and control its citizens - and to adopt family values; to
black thug rappers transforming hip hop, a previously unruly and subversive
form of spontaneous, rebellious street communication, into a corporate
enterprise characterized by good old-fashioned corruption, greed, and
internecine violence (Proof RIP!): the oppressed are doing a pretty good
job of oppressing themselves these days without the help of hegemonic
states, bureaucracies and institutions. The Purple Resistance Army urgently
implores you to Wake Up and Smell the Tear Gas!

Bruce LaBruce for the Purple Resistance Army

WELTANSCHAUUNG
I’m always forgetting that my webblog is one of the most read in the world. Webmaster Larry-Bob tells me that the number of hits is astronomical. Of course not all the hits are for me, the majority are just horndogs looking for girlie action. Google Vagina and it instantly goes toyours truly. Fortunately some wind up being intrigued and actually become fans. Too bad I’m not business oriented, I could use this to my advantage and actually become gainfully employed for the first time in my life. Alas, thats not going to happen anytime soon.
My recent Margaret Cho posting caused a title wave of emugs my way. My intern hasn’t sent me all of them, but one missive from Bill Silva of Bill Silva Touring, Records and Filmworks was a pleasant surprise. Besides producing tours for Miss Cho, Bill has done every biggie in the music business. My intern Gleeson showed me Bill’s web page and he also handles management for Margaret now, and her opening act Bruce, as well as former tour manager John Hogan. Bill has his work cut out for him if he’s now repping Bruce and JHo. Oh welpsis. If he can make that cute little self-centered kid Jason Mraz a huge recording star, he can work wonders on anybody.

Here is what Bill had to say:

Hi vag,

Just wanted to send you a little "heeeeeeYyy" and some love. Saw your blog re: margaret and laughed my ass off in between feeling warm and fuzzy about the nice things you wrote about me. Wow. I'll never make it in hollywood if that nice reputation gets disemminated.

Also didn't realize that the jho relationship was not mutual love, hmmmmm.

How are you? Are you loving life and living it with all the passion you've ever had? I am. I leave on a 6-month sabbatical as of june 30, going all over the world, studying buddhism with monks in thailand, going to south africa to help in aids orphanages, I can't wait!!!

Love love love,
Bill

***
And Larry Bob just forwarded me a note from Margaret’s ex-manager Karen Taussig. Didn't expect to hear from her. Ain’t the internet grand?

***

You know what? I think you are brilliant. There's nothing I respect more than an artist forsaking mainstream acceptance in order to remain true to her vision. That was the message behind Margaret's first film, I'm The One That I Want. That message made her into an icon.

I always thought that you had a unique insight into people's souls. For the record...
a.. Margaret chose her opening acts. Fwiw, I don't think your career would have benefitted from the continued relationship.
b.. And cheap? Well, let's just say it was my job, on Margaret's behalf, to be cheap. Every dollar you earned or spent came out of her pocket, not mine.
c.. I loved J Ho. So flawed, confused, and full of heart and, without the typical hostility towards women. He had lost his mother recently and was truly devastated.
d.. Austin is an incredible artist but an even more opportunistic businessman. He's got Margaret wrapped around his "I will make you look beautiful as long as I can use your name and image for my portfolio" finger.
e.. Margaret's husband tried to kill her at least once. At least that's what I was told by Margaret, Bruce, and Ava. Him spending her money was the least of my concerns. In his latest video project in which she took part, a woman is stabbed with an ice pick and bleeds to death. The minute we parted, she began promoting his projects. I hope everyone in her life isn't just yessing her to death.
f.. I see her new manager a bit differently than do you. They are suing me. Details here.
Karen Taussig

P.S. You coming out on stage in that American Flag dress 4 days or so after 9-11 was the single most awe inspiring moment of my life.

THE LOVE CAMEL
One of my straight girlfriends and her husband came over to my studio recently, the hubby picked up a risque photo off of my desk of one of my tricks, and told me that the shaggy haired white man in the pic is a professional basketball player named Dirk Navitsky or something like that. I don’t remember my sex encounter with him that much, other then his being very tal, and asking me if I knew much about sports, of course I know nothing about sports, and now it makes sense why he asked that question.
I’m also being stalked by the film director Bryan Singer of the X-Man franchise, the movie The Usual Suspects, and the up-coming Superman film. He’s been emailing, calling and writing love letters. We had a bit of a fling awhile back, but he’s way too needy for me. Its funny how these men who are part of the mainstream entertainment super-complex, can’t handle it when someone isn’t impressed with their accomplishments.
I’m also being courted by a 21 year old jazz pianist Taylor Eigsti and his 18 year old guitarist Julian Lage. These jazz prodigy boys came to Bricktops Takes Man!hattan along with pianist David Benoit and want to collaborate on a project with me, and also get inside my big white Nina Blanchard panties.
***
Invited to a sexy bruncheon at El Encanto by Barbara of Santa Barbara for Glen Meadmore’s 49th birthday. Glorious ocean views, scrumpteous food, and an eye-candied hunkly waiter named Paul of German/Mexican extraction who resembles 60s matinee idol John Gavin of Imitation of Life fame. Lots of laughter had by all. Barbara is Santa Barbara royalty with a lineage that goes back to the 1860’s. She also shared some game tidbits about former SB resident Michael Jackson, and current neighbor Oprah. Maybe one of the days I’ll reveal what she told me about them. Am I the only one who doesn’t care for Ms. Winfrey?
Back at Barbara’s family ranch, her famous singing surfer sister Paula made a divine tart that I greedily gobbled two helpings of. I’ve decided not to diet anymore---its all about enjoying food and not denying myself those pleasures. Thank you Barb for a fantastic retreat. You are the bestest!!!!!

CHAVITY HOPE VALENTINE
Ran into someone who told me that Margaret Cho and her manager and business partner Karen Taussig had split. Not much detail, and I’m a stickler for details--- just that they read it somewhere. Of course this perked my interest as I toured with Margaret for six months in 2001-2 on her Notorious C.H.O tour.
My first impression of Karen Taussig was that she was like most business people, cheap, and that is my biggest pet peeve----I HATE CHEAP PEOPLE. I’ve been very vocal in attacking cheapskates,as Joseph Brooks, James Frankenstone and Lenny Young of the Funeral Parlour can attest to.
I only like people who are gracious and generous.
When I joined the Cho tour, I didn’t know that she was a top selling tour act.. Of course I knew she had a television show, but we’d known each other only casually, so when she asked me to open for her I didn’t know what to expect.
From the beginning Karen rubbed me the wrong way, but I convinced myself I was overreacting I have to remember to trust my instincts----they are golden. ALWAYS LISTEN TO THOSE RED FLAGS. Karen realized early on that I wasn’t some weak minded foolio who she could manipulate, and a few times, In Hawaii especially I shocked her by putting the chick to check.
Toward the end of the tour Margaret kept saying she wanted me for the next tour. I smiled and said, "o that’d be great, but I knew that would never happen, especially as long as Karen was her manager. And that was ok by me. I had a great time on the tour. It was glam, and I got to stay in 4 star hotels, and Bill Silva of Bill Silva Touring was amazing, to me. I have a natural disdain for the wealthy and I was surprised at how genuine Bill Silva was, and how smoothly his company worked. I always thought that people high up in the music or entertainment industry got there by being complete assholes. And if they were gay, then they must be super a-holes!!!Bill broke that stereotype.
Now that so much time has past I can now admit that I didn’t care much for our tour manager John Hogan or JHo as I renamed him. He was a little bit "sometimey" which is a black ghetto term that describes perfectly how some negroes feel about certain white f olks they can’t seem to trust. Of course JHo’s mood swings could be because like almost everyone in LA he is on psychotropic medication.
I found JHo to be a frustrated performer with a little sugar in his tank. We were civil to each other, and he lived vicariously through my shrimping routine, and loved that I incorporated him into the act. It secretly turned him on. But several times on tour he was somewhat curt with me, and I feel he resented that I had a following of my own, albeit a small following---JHo would always comment that the really cool people would always be hanging out in my dressing room backstage after the show and not in Margarets.

I’m not a commercially oriented performer, and never will be. Bill Silva even mentioned once that I needed to get out of my ghetto mentality, and think bigger. He may be right but I have to follow the path that is made for me and take it to its natural conclusion whereever that may be.

A few months after the tour JHo had the nerve to contact me to take part in some photo project with some tired friend of his. I may forgive, but I NEVER forget slights. But getting back to Karen Taussig---I mentioned to Larry Bob about the Margaret/Karen breakup and he tracked down a blog report that Margaret posted a few months back that is very illuminating. I include it at the end of my report, I’m not surprised by Margaret’s comments on Karen. My take is that Margaret is still searching for something, her recent marriage to Rev Al of the Cacophony Society proves that. Karen must have had a fit when Margaret married him, her hissy was probably self preservation in that she was most likely afraid that Margaret would spend all her money on him and his nutters projects. Margaret is financially successful, but like most people who have a foot in the mainstream, she probably wants more. I could see Margaret doing the roles that Sandra Oh has, and I think that is a good direction for her to go in, but since Sandra beat her to it, there is probably not room in the mainstream for two Asian comic actors----you know how Hollywood is. Her financing her own narrative movies is smart, but this new project Celeste and Bam Bam sounds like the Plush Life Players. Getting more embroiled in "The Gays" may not be such a good idea. "The Gays" are notoriously fickle, and cavorting to them can backfire on you big time. Margaret is very smart and needs to follow her instincts in going really radical, and not by just doing the obvious Bush bashing, and rally round the liberal flag twirl. Hopefully she’ll figure it out for herself, and I wish her well with that. I did have a good time doing a little short film project with her and Jackie Beat awhile back that Austin Young photographed. Austin is very handsome, but lets just say he and I aren’t destined to be good pals anytime soon. I gather the short subject will be playing the festivals, but I have no interest in seeing it.


http://margaretcho.net/blog/movingon.htm

4/12/06
Moving On

SEASON HUBLEY
Treated to a lovely bruncheon by the legendary Billy Wisdom of the 80s glam band Billy Wisdom and the HeeShees. Billy, aka: Craig Roose took me to a nifty J-Town eatery that had lots of cute pieces of masculine eye candy floating about. Mr. Roose is one of those unsung geniuses that came out of the punk scene via the San Fernando Valley, whose never been given his proper share of credit. He use to work for years at Slash Records, and also led the Brit pop parody band Stupor, and performed as the chanteuse Summer Caprice channeling a mean Eartha Kitt and whispy Billie Holliday. As Caprice he starred and hosted the cable TV Dinah Shore meets Mike Douglas talk show Decoupage. These days he works as an art director. He gave me a lot of great celebrity gossip but swore me to secrecy so i can't repeat any of it. Believe me its some juicy salacious stuff, but i don't want to get Craig in any trouble, unlike me, he can't afford to burn any bridges. See i can keep a secret.
My oldest friend from elementary school, Marlou de Luna is now a lawyer for the State of California. She and her lawyer hubby Hal Marinas took me to dine at Cafe Stella. The weekend heatwave was in full broil, but it didn't exhaust our spirits. I was housesitting at the Silverlake Maltman Avenue compound of gay lovers Hector Martinez and Eric Pierce. They live right next door to Ann Magnuson.
The scene at Cafe Stella was lively, and the service impecable. Saw buff male ingenue Channing Tatum and his girlfriend. The dull remake of The Poseiden Adventure starlet Emmy Rossum as sitting at another table with dinge queen X-Men directrice Brent Ratner, who is a bit of an otter, but has a really nice complexion, of course he brought along with him another one of those interchangeable LeRoy's whose semen he guzzles. I swear he's the new Keith Haring when it comes to a bevy of faceless black and latino male lovers. I wonder of Mr. Ratner is still seeing the Rican porn thugstar Tiger Tyson.
More exciting of a spotting was Zoey Dechanel and her sister who were eating with horsey faced Alanis Morrisette and her bisexual boyfriend Ryan Reynolds who brought along his cute ginger headed and freckly beau.
I escaped the heat the next day to spend time in Santa Barbara with Barbara Young and her foxy surfer gal sis Paula. Miss Barbara is the perfect hostessa. She cooked a feadt of feasts, where the liquor was constantly flowing for me and my companion, the kuntry krooner Glen Meadmore. I always cherish the moments i'm able to spend with Ms. Young & company. Barbara even knew the name of the lovesexy latino star of the TV serial Oz, that i ran into a few days ago. His screen name is Kirk Acevedo, and let me tell you he is more beautiful and muscular in person then on the telly.

COVETED DWARFSTAR
Ran into that stunning young latin male ingenue with the lovesexy scar who was a featured player on the HBO prison sex melodrama Oz. I don't know his name, but this dimunitive male vixen has one of those muscular, tight bodies with a gorgeous complexion, and bubble derriere that has an unmitigated life of its own. I pretended to read the newspaper, but i just stared at him for a good 45 minutes, mentally undressing him, and imagining that he was sitting on my raw ocre face, and occasionally feeding me his uncut peterkin.
***
I wish tired TV people would stop contacting me. I'm not interested in auditioning for a part on a tired sitcom, exploitative talk fest, rock video or reality TV show.
I'm also sick of so called indie-filmmakers who never stop emailing me to be in their low budget films, with the promises of exposure. The only thing this lady needs is: a. food in her fat stomach b. serious coins in her shabby pocket book and c. hefty peni in her twitchy coochee.

LIEBE LESERIN, LIEBER LESER!
Was back in Los Angeles for a few days and for some strange reason I was feeling nostalgic and decided to go back to my old childhood neighborhood in South Central. Had a gigantic soul food feast in the Shaw as in Crenshaw. The old Japanese movie theatre is still there but now its some kind of Pentacostal Church and the Googie style bowling alley is a Starbucks. The Crenshaw Shopping Center where my mother and older sister use to put my school clothes on lay-away is now an icky Wal-mart, but the Robinson’s MayCompany is still there, and the building looks almost the same. Leimert Park also has retained its glamour. Back in the day the boys from Crenshaw High were know as the sexiest Jubas Jubilees in all of Funkytown. Maverick Flat, which use to be a gay bar is still there, but now its rented out for private parties.
Went through USC to cruise eye candy and there was plenty. Ran into Buttons Sinclair and El Cholo’s new Phd girlfriend who were on there way to Summer Schule class. Ended up near Santa Monica and Fairfax and bumped into three American Idols who were on there way to the Subway sandwich shoppe. Of course I didn’t know they were American Idols, but these two young girls standing near me did, and they went into a veritable tizzy. The three American Idol boys were dressed very casually, two were wearing flip flops, one had a shiny bald head and looked like a wannabe alt rocker dude, he even had the obligatory wallet key chain, the other kid had a long blond mullet pulled back in a ponytail with a goofy crooked tooth grin, and the last boy was super hot, tall with longish dark brown hair and a fantastic mantinee idol smile and big come hither eyes. I wanted to drop down on my knees and digest a load of the kids thickerous semen right on the spot.

DROGENHOLLE: IHRE TOCHTER IST IN GEFAHR
Finally finished reading the "The Fabulous Sylvester" by Joshua Gamson. Hard to believe it was written by an academic. I’m sorry but people in the academy usually write so dry its dullardsville. Gamson really captured the flavour of the period, and I thought I knew a lot about Sylvester, but I sure didn’t know he was party of a tranny gang, that came out of South Central.
Got a sweet letter from one of my old 1980s runaround Sue buddies, who I recently reconnected with at my Kunsthaus museum show in Bregenz, Austria. Yes, the one and only Taxi Derma also known as Princess Gloria Von Thurn und Taxis. I know its hard to believe that I use to hang with European royalty, but honey when you’ve lived as long as I have, anything and everything is possible, and back in the old punk and post punk days, a lot of different worlds use to collide. So different from how it is now, where everyone and everything is so segregated.
Fyfe Dangerfield the keyboardist and singer/songwriter with the London based band Guillemots is a big fan of mine, and emugged me that he wants to do a collaboration of some kind. I’m anxious to find out just what that would entail.. .
Will keep you postada pumpkins.

FRUHLINGS-ATTACKE!
I’m in the mood for movies. Saw Terry Zwigoff and Dan Clowes latest film, "Art School Confidential". Loved the sad eyes and bee-stung lips of Max Minghella, the young male ingenue who stars. Not as good as "Ghost World" but still a pleasure, and so much better then the dreck that is regular American cinema.
No I’m not going to see the remake of "The Poseidan Adventure", even though I find Josh Lucas awfully attractive, and poor little Mia,as in bullimia---Lindsey Lohan who I liked in Mean Girls, her latest just looks like an opus numb.
Asian cine just gets better and better, Chen Kaige’s "The Promise" is sublime, and Hou Hslao-hsien’ "Three Times" is a modern day romantic drama that reminded me of the Buster Keaton silent comedy "The Three Ages" Handsome Chang Chen is my new Taiwanese boyfriend---what cheekbones, what smoldering lovesexiness, he has matinee idol written all over him---yum yum and more yum. Mr. Chen is going to replace my former lover Leslie Chung, who killed himself a few years back. I needs me some hot sticky rice.

NACKTE TATSACHEN
I’ve been getting a million emails from those who came to Bricktops Takes Man!hattan asking who was the tall, muscular six-pack ab’d ginger haired boy I performed a tongue bath on the stage at the club. Well I never got his name, but I sure enjoyed licking and sucking him all over that amazing body of his. If he’s reading this blog please send me an emug c/o my assistant Gleeson Brevard at gleebrevard@aol.com. Oh and for those who wanted a copy of the text I performed here is a bit of it in all its extemperaneous contemporary glory:

Bricky: (Intro)
I’m hungry, I want a felafel or some Popeye’s Fried Chicken
Can’t someone run and get me a bite to eat?
I ain’t no hoofer
I gots me 14 left feet, count em
one, two three. . .
I ain’t a songbird
nothing that comes from this here mouth is sweet
I’m just a barmaid and an old barkeep.

Bricky with Jennifer Miller on banjo:

you’re my lady, o bearded lady
you’re so nappy and well endowed, wow
you’re my lady, o bearded lady
you are the kitten and I am the cow, now

HIMROD NEOYORQUINOS
Should i go to the Rolling Stone Party or Callie Angell's Andy Warhol Screen Test Soiree 230 Fifth Avenue at 27th Street overlooking the Empire State Building? Easy choice, I'm sure the Rolling Stone fete will be duller then toast.
Chittle chatted with Ms. Callie, who was looking lovely and subdued, introduced her to my handsome escort Glenn Belverio the author of the new tome "Confessions From the Velvet Rope" Glenn was almost knocked down by author Anthony Haden Guest "The Last Party" to get at the open bar. I stuck to drinking vodka gimlets and held court as Warhol stars, Bridgit Berlin, Ultra Violet, Taylor Meed, Vera Cruz and Bibbe Hansen with handsome Chicano husband Sean Carrillo flitted and floated. Superstar academe Douglas Crimp was accompanied by handsome Japanese masseur and concubine Yoshi while Benjamin Liu fumed. The evening soundtrack was provided by Nico, The Velvet Underground and Bob Dylan. So wonderful to go to an intelligent adult party for a change.
Bricktops Takes Man!hattan at the Soviet/Leninist bar Club Siberia was a rousing success. The Future art stars of NYU contributed the glorious decor supervised by Obie Award winning art director Michael Casselli. The notables included Kembra Pfahler of the Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black and her Karen Black Dancers, along with Bijou Phillips, Jimmy Fallon, writer C. Carr, Brock Enright, Linda Simpson with her My Comrade Mag in tow, Esther Kaplan, Scott Speedman, Flea of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers, photog Michael Wakefield, and Michelle Monaghan from Mission Impossible III. The dadaist performances by Julie Atlas Mus, Jennifer Miller, Garo from the New York Philharmonic, and Ms. Davis' creole nephew Kajohnnie Blue kept the audience intrigued. The amazing Justin Bond even did a surprise performance, and Anderson Cooper dropped by for a minute, though he wasn't able to do his Bobby Short tribute.
Special shout out to Nancy Barton, Jose Munoz and Jonathan Berger of NYU, Beatrice Glow and the NYU Bricktops kids, DJ Billy Miller, techie sexpert C.J. and Make-up Forever who co-sponsored and make-up artistes Katie Pelligrino and her bubble butt Rican assistant who beat on the flawless faces of Ms. Davis and the children.
The Final Event of the Where Art and Life Collide Symposium was an artist lecture/panel featuring Ron Athey and Ms. Davis facilitated by Jose Munoz. Ms. D set the tone by having the audience drink wine before and during which livened things up immensely(spellings?) Checking out the proceedings Julie Tolentino, Nurse "Lauren Pain" Pine, Marina Abramovic, RoseLee Goldberg and her handsome son, Patty Powers, Jeremy, the hot dancer/eve harrington boy, Tom Murrin aka: The Alien Comic, Adrian Heathfeld, curator and art theorist and the legendary Penny Arcade.

FINTON MARSAILLES
Helped daddy Ron Athey prepare for his piece "Incorruptible Flesh/Disassociative Sparkle" at Artist Space. Had the hardest time finding the damn place on Green Street. Woke up with a bit of chest and throat congestion, checked emugs and wrote blog at Dr. Jose's lovely 6th floor Tisch Office. Ate Thai food with Billy Miller, bought a new wig on 14th Street and called it an early night.

Couldn't shake the image of Papa Ron glistening with all that fake Rob/Bob Jackson-Paris orange ruffy tan and vaseline covering his tat body, and bootylish being impaled by a junior little league baseball bat.

Next morn had breakfast with John Sanchez at Odessa. John use to work at Martha Stewart Omnipotency Corporation, but now he's joined the freelance routine guild. John is a fantastic writer and performer who is actually from Long Beach, California, and is of Dutch and Puerto Rican ancestry, so you know he has one mighty powerful genitalic hegion.

***

Another great rehearsal with beauty boy John Blue in Crooklyn's Bushwicky neighb. John is an incredible musician, and our sessions together run really smoothly. I've renamed him KaJohnny as he has become my high yeller Creole cousin from New Orleans.

MANHATTAL CHATTEL
First event from NYU was panel discussia produced by Performa and hosted by le grande duchy RoseLee Goldberg, who was hilarious. She could have just talked the entire time and i would be wildly content. Ms. Goldberg is the ultimate New York sophisticate. On the panel was the curator of photography at the Guggenheim Jennifer Blessing, writer and critic C. Carr, Susan Jarosi a professor at the University of Louisville and the divine Galllic artiste Orlan who of course stole the show with her booming voice and larger then largesse persona. Orlan only spoke in French, and brought along her interpreter/concubine who i wanted to milk the quelle frommage out of. All i have to say is M. Orlan---squirrel climb that tree and get your gnut!!!!1
Dr. Jose Munoz who is the chairwoman of the Performance Studies Departamenta of NYU Tisch Academy and Bone Center hosted a bbrilliant book release party for Jennifer Doyle, who was in fine form---she was sexy, funny, more sexy, just deliri. Got to meet the famed Doyle Sisters and hang with their uber masculine, quietly intense super hot dad. His British accent gives me goose bumps. Jennifer's mom is petite and pretty and very Dina Merrill movie starish. Celebs in attendance: scholarina Gavin Butts, writer/stripper Patty Powers, performance honcha Nao Bustamente, legend Carmelita Tropicana and actor Crispin Glover. Who invited him?
Met Callie Angell, the Andy Warhol Film project curator at the Whitney. Callie is so sweet and lovely and is the personification of what New York is supposed to be about. I can't wait to attend her big roof garden soiree later in the week. G
Got all dolled up for Beatrice Glow's welcome to New York gathering at the designer collective boutique Burrow on Bing Crosby Street. So many cute kidsters and my NYU beauties all glossy and gussied up. Make-up Forever was one of the sponsors and did some makeovers and a bevy of supermodels provided the bootleg liquor. Met a sweet girl and lovely Nordic boy who edit a great new fashion website called Coutorture Media. I admire the moxy of these New York children. RoseLee Goldberg's sexy youthquaker son DJ'd and he is smoldering smoldering yummy yummy and needs to park his asstrovar on my raw face.
Earlier in the day i breakfasted with Billy Miller of the Manhattan Review of Unnatural Acts and had a celeb citatia of Elaine Stritch looking great and not at all boozyrella. Billy and i attended an anti-war rally and womens march and took a detour later for some sightseeing. Billy is my New York Tri-state history guru and took me to 86 Bedford Street to Chumley's, the 20's speakeasy where the term 86'd was coined. He also squired me to the home of Edna St. Vincent Millay which is the thinnest house in Manhattan. My oogling through the window gave the owner a heart attach. Billster filled me in on all these little tidbits about architecture and the like----how coiled rope design on a facade is a symbol of affluence and a pineapple on a gate is the universal sign of welcome.
Went to Angelica Cinema and saw that teen movie BBrick. Was impressed by the leads performance and also this studly bubble butt muscular creature that reminded me of a young James Caan. Yowza!!
Had rehearsal with bearded lady Jennifer Miller and we wrote a new song together. That woman is one supreme talent, and i love her!!!!
In the morning was interviewed by Steven Watson at my University visiting artist apartment. He is delightful, and we had a perfect time together. I'm writing this very blogula at the office of Dr. Jose Munoz, who has an eleganza office at the 721 Broadway Tische campus building. Thanks Dr. Munoz for accomodating my lady self.
It seems like the tired mainstream media is trying to backlash teenie tiny, dimunitive movie star Tom Cruise by using me as the means of his fall from grace. A news item was picked up on the UP Wireservice from when i was doing my visiting artist gig at Ohio University in Athens, Ohio. Just to set the record straight. I was not making fun of Tom Cruise or his sexuality. I love Tom and always have. He's actually a good actor, and deserves his fame and success. I am also fascinated by Scientology, and think its a damn juicy religion. I really think the young Scientology grunts who parade up and down Hollywood Blvd in their tight polyester pants and nautical shirts chain smoking are kindof sexy. So leave them and their religion alone, and stop picking on poor Tom. Media pundits you should be concentrating on war, famine and pestilence. Those are much more timely subjects.

NEWYORIKAN BLESSINGS
Swift flight to Manhattan with Papa dee da da Ron Athey and Dr. Jennifer Doyle for NYU's Where Art and Life Collide Symposium. Franko B was supposed to be a part of the event, but he wasn't allowed to board the plane in London---some nonsense concerning a visa and irregular passporte photo discrepancy. Franko must have cursed them out royally at Heathcliffe, i mean Heathrow airport. I was looking forward to hanging with the great Franko B. I haven't seen him since the Nation Review of Live Art Festival in Glasgow, Scotland in 2004. Celebrity siting on my plane. The giant cute, Chinese basketball star---don't know his name, but he's taller then me. i wonder if he has extra large genitalia?
NYU chair of the visual art department, and lovely gamine Nancy Barton with luscious Jonathan Berger, event producer put me right to work the next day critiquing MFA candidates and making studio visitations. Talented crop of future art starinas. Had a wonderful time with New Orleans native Rachel Detrinis, a spirited and intelligent beauty who works in an arts n crafts mode, knitting and crocheting new and earthy horizens mixed with electronic media and needlepoint whimsy. Love it.
Was lost in kusak conversation with Dutch/Canadian pretty Jonah Groeneboer, a sensitive and softspoken F2M student. I was surprised i wasn't able to clock him as a tranny boy. I'm so use to macho transits, that his slight sissy manner and appearance completely threw me for an overextended loop. Jonah totally passes and is 100% young faggot realness. The big black mama in me just wants to nurture and death hug the children, and to protect them from the disasters that come with an art life, but i've got to snip that unbiblical cord, and let them find their own gravela pathstain.
Began rehearsing with handsome hunksis John Blue, the younger brother of my Berlin Cheap collektive comrade Tim Blue. John lives in Bushwick, Crooklyn in a spacious loft/studio. Bushwick is a big dick thickerous Rican/Dominican area, that is just adore, especially the elecated train stations that look so movie set. John's neighbors adore him---well who wouldn't he is a dazzlingly stunning young man and speaks fluent Spanish. John took me to a local eatery and we feasted. I'm sure we're going to come up with something special for Bricktops Takes Manhattan on Thursday May 4th.
Went to see Jonathan Bergers show at Grimm Rosenfeld Gallery in Chelsea. Jonathan's work is sublime. Hard to believe he is 26 years old now. Didn't i just give birth to him yesterday? Jonathan is so goodlooking, with a gorgeous distinct nose and lips of vermillion. Met his parents---he has a dapper dad, who is a bit of a showboater---claiming all attention in the room, and a stylish and serene mother. Jonathan comes from New York art royalty.
Writer Glenn Belverio took me to dinner at the saucy French Bistro Casimir. Love the food and the ambiance, Uma Thurman sat near us and gave me a bit of attitude. Perhaps she thought i was someone else, as i don't know her from Adam 12. I've always liked Uma, but can't stand her drug addled ex-husband Ethan Hawke. Maybe she gave me daggers because she knows i use to have a regular thing with Andre Belaz.
Glen took me on a Village post queer tour that began at the Monster where we drank frozen Margaritas. The Monster is a bonafide Monster show. Sour bar tenders, and a clientele that reminds me of LA in the early 80s. What a time continuem vortexa. I found it amusing though for a while. The best ill look awards go to a long on the tooth hustler in panjabi jeweled flip flops, madras pajama bottoms and an egg shell blazer over a heliotrope wife beater. First runner up is the salt n pepper gay couple in badfitting matching tuxedos who kept going in and out of the restrooms. The downstairs discoteqa is even more odd, with a barrel chested Lou Costello gogo gargoyle with horn rimmed glasses, who had an ardent admirer who was loudly quizzing him about his work out routine. Daddy Athey joined us and his eyes glazed at the very site of it all. We also dropped by Marie's Crisis, the sad luck piano bar. The evening ended at Duvet which is all homo modern, slick but lacks any sexual energy even with a bedroom decor. Nice seeing and talking with DJ Larry T in his airport lounge dj booth. Larry is a hoot, didn't get to meet his new male order child bride. Larry rules!
I'm amazed at the benal Miami/LA style of big New York clubs. I guess the whole world now caters to the dull nouveau riche. Its quite sad, but isn't ruining my new york minutes. The city in spring is breathtaking.

HOLLYWOOD FUR ANFANGER
Spent a few days in Berlina to begin recording the new Ruth Fischer album "Sexualethik des Kommunismus". We didn't get a chance to do much recording as my comrades in arms Ibadette and Mickey One were too busy with their main musical project The Super 700's, but it was wonderful spending time with them and the Cheap gang.
Tim Blue of Cheap moved into his new 100 euro a month apartment, and it is a delightful flat. Tim is such a design genius, his use of space is flawless. He gave me a copy of his new chapbook "Public Sex, I Love You" and its as brilliant as he is with sharp insightful writing that is right on the markus mark.
As a group Cheap invaded a Cazzo porno premiere at this new industrial bar Luxe, in Krutzberg. The flick starred eugo sensation Thom Barron. It was strange seeing a gay blue movie in a large crowd. No one knows the appropriate way to view porn in public these days as porn is only something that one rents and isn't seen in theatres, but Jurgen Bruning, Bruce La Bruce's fantastic producer is changing all that with his Porno Film Festival in October. I've been invited on the Jury Selection, and will also conduct a How to Have Sex, Like those Fuycking Blakxxx workshop.
On this last trip to Berlin it was great hanging with experimental film guru Wilhelm Hein and his art photog gal pal Annetta Frick, Judean beauty boy and bubble butt studkin Assof Hockman, Belgian designer Coen Claerhout, Gelitin juicy Ali Janka and his Babi Papi, and filmmaker Christian Asbach, whose footage from our Silvester Party was stunning. Christian also showed me some of his other experimental films and the video he shot for a Ruth Fischer ditty. Christian is a perky new talent to keep an eye on, and he's awfully cute and robust.
Leaving Berlin was difficult, i was having so much fun with Timothy, Marcu, Daniela and fearless leader Suzi. My connector flight was delayed big time and i wound up spending the night in a cute airport boutique hotel in ugly Frankfurt, courtesy of Luthansa Airlines. Returned to tired LA and in one day had to fly to Ohio University in Athens for a visiting artist gig. Had a blast with the cute young kidz at this school outside of Columbus Ohio. Ohio U is the #7 party school in the country according to Playboy Magazine, and they all showed up to party down at my lecture/performance which was packed to the rafters with cornfed, free range humpsters and sexy Hilljacks from the Appalachian mountains. Lovely reuniting with Professor Jenny Klein, who i spent gobs of time with two years ago at the National Review of Live Art in Glasgow, Scotland. Ms. Klein is adorable and filled with endless energy. My connector flight to Ohio was very late, so i almost missed the boat. Thank god for popular student performer Nikki who was my opening act and entertained everyone until i showed up. Nikki and her bevy of buxom lesbian girl gangmembers were my ninja bodyguards, keeping the frat boys from leaving pearl necklaces on my face(well almost), and escorting me back to the airport. Special thanks to Eliot and all the wonderful people at Ohio U, which i found out is a midwestern porn capital. One sublime Japanese/American boy i met with his super intellectual tight bodied pal,is an internet porn ingenue.

ABER SICHER WILL ICH SEX BIATCH!
Wonderous time in Bregenz with my Gelitin boys. Much love kisses and thanx to daddy loving Ali and Papi Choulo, bick dicked dwink of water Flo, and his pretty wife and gorgeous children, Chevalier Wolfie Amadeus, and matinee idol Tobi. you are the bestest.
Got up early and took train to Berlin. Of course i got a bit lost as i don´t do trains well either. nice adventure though. met cute fat assed train worker who helped me MUCH, and lots of deli eye candy on the long long winding road to Oz as in berlina. sat next to a handsome baby dyke and a flawless young business man---yum
reunion with cheap din din and lots of drinking at the communista pizza joing with daniela and tim blue, lots of hugs and kisses. went to the Sheuna leather daddy salty dog bar and it was packed with leatherettes and costumers from all over fairyland. everyone wanted to suck on my lady tits and i let them, i was so hungry for stink. settled down and had a mini romance with a cute chinese aussie fashionista twinkasaurus till 3am, came back to flat and crashed until 3pm the next day. i had a lot of sleep to make up for.
kilbanza!

FÜHRUNGSPROTOKOLL
I don´t know what day it is, thats the whirl i´ve been under with the boys from Gelitin here in Austria. I´ve had a wonderous mad swirl of a time. Got to flirt with cute tiny Christof of of the many Geliten army memebers. Christof has the tightest roundest bubble butt on record, and is sincere and sensitive. He doesn´t know exactly what to make of me. The Gelitin exilhary members are an international lot scouring the globe. David Jourdain, from France is one of the most masculine. He reminds me of a slightly taller Jean Genet, but with a bigger thicker penis. Hooray! The girls including Joey Heatherton look-a-like Rita Novak and Romy Schneider doppleganger Sabine Friesz are just delights. And the rest of the performers and crew are the most lick and suckable in all of Christendom.
My good friend and younger art sister Rosina Kuhn came to the fancy opening last night. There were a thousand people crowded into the museum, enjoying the liquor that never stopped flowing.
During the performance a hot father, daughter and son partook in the mudslide room, stripping and playing in the Volcanic kanundra. The boy was such a beefy bubble butt divinity that he made everyones jaw drop. Fine ass, face, dick and titty. The quatre whammy. unbelievable.
after the opening we went to the only alternative bar in town on top of a mountain. i flirted some more but the only ones sharing my room were two girls that decided they didn´t want to sleep with some of the gelitin crew boys so i wound up hosting an impromptu slumberina party. not exactly what i was hoping for but i am a lady who goes with the flowzilla. Got run now its time for the gourmet artist luncheon.

HOLLUNDER
Bregenz, Austria is a small town of under 20,000 people off of one of the largest lakes in all europa. I äm a young girl in the provinces, and that became stingly clear as the Gelitin crew and I were cavorting in the third floor homo moderne Kunthshaus volcanic mud slide room in their new museo piece Chinese Synthese Leberkäse.
The local yocalti had a twitchy nigger fit and became disturbed by our romper stomper ala naturelle. I quoteth, "we`ve never seen men and women being naked in that way and its upsetting to us." The Jurgen Bruning look-a-like curator also reported that these village workmen are refusing to set foot in the gallery if such displays continue.
i missed the opportunity to take a break from installing to visit ole crazy king Ludvig of Bavaria´s castle. i just can´t handle a long car ride without getting sick. Gabrielle the statuesque nelly prince of judea Gelitin minister of information was driving, but i do not believe he knew where to go exactly. i am sure that my fellow Angelenos Dame Darcy and Sean deLear along with Mexican beauty princessa Sara Montiel Glaxia, the pal of junky below the border film icon and hungthrob Diego Luna and paramour to art star Raymond Pettibone would have a nicer trip without my contact whining and need to relieve my pea bladder.
Yesterday after a full days love labour lost we relaxed at the co-sexúal lake spa for some tender bovine care.
The Gelitin boys are superstars. Their notorious World Trade Center intervention right before 9-11 first brought them international curiosity, and this new piece that i´m part of is sure to become a modern scandale.

VIEGER SANCTION
Mr. Guy Trebay, the patrician journalist with the New York Times, New Yorker,Vanity Fair and Conde Nast Traveler took me to dine at a scrumpt devore bistro on 9th Street. Our morose waiter was dourly amusing, and the restaurant owner charming and attentive with his Adolphe Menjou mustache. I loved hearing about Mr. Trebay´s travels to Dubai, Oman and the Michael Jackson principality of Bahrain (spelling?)
Trebay and Davis together and its all about getting gertie´s giggling garter.
Azo of nyu video dept gave me a bon voyage bruncheon at the French Roast on 6th Avenue. joining us Billy Miller, Finnish artist Eija Lisa Ahtila who just won some prestigious arte mundi prizet, Aerin Lauder Zinterhofer and Gabby Karan DeFelice. Of course i had to keep the girls from power bitching each other to death which was a bit taxing.
o and i forgot to mention that after dins with mr. trebay, i bumped into glenn belverio and his st. martins press editor of his new tome "confessions from the velvet ropes". they had just dined with Bruce Benderson, his bubbly gallic gamine writer friend Tsipi Keller and bon vivant heiress Cory. The group dragged me to the 40 year anniversary party of Patricia Field at Capitale on Bowery. Not a great soiree by any means but it was sweet running into my old la gangla of nurse lauren pine, jeff gardner, scott ewahlt who is now going out with michael of the former big dicked power couple of the early 90s michael and andrew sears, (nee sears-roebucks)
and it was a hootel seeing and chatting with mz. understood, that connie girl, kenny kenny, richie rich, and xavier.

THE UNIVERSAL URGE
To smell a fart, so spake the great John Waters at the taping i attended with my NYU video art professor pal Azo. Mr. Waters' monologue consisted of some of his banter from his Christmas show, but all done in an easyflowing conversational manner, which never comes across as rehearsed shtick. A packed house at a lower manhattan community theatre, the Henry Street Settlement. Sitting next to Azo and I was the legendary Waters' production designer/art director Vincente Perrini who has been with Mr. Agua since Multiple Maniacs, and besides designing the spare stage set also works in the mainstream with the HBO TV show Wired. Mr. Perrini's long on the tooth hustler boyfriend sat next to him but didn't contribute to the conversation.
I didn't quite catch why his lecture was being filmed, but it was a pleasant evening, the only blight being a gaggle of oportunists who used the Q&A portion of the event to wrangle a job, but John Waters dodged the Eve Harringtons with grace and class.
I DJ'd the Weimar New York Earl Dax event at Joe's Pub. Lots of fun. Joe's is a sublime space, and Earl is one of the hardest working promoters in new york. When does he find time to sleep? Backstage was reunited with sexy and commanding Flotilla DeBarge who will be starring on Broadway opposite Alan Cummings in the revival of The Three Penny Opera. No one deserves success more then my lady Flo.
Met Julie Atlas Muse, the burlesque starina who perfectly began the nights festivities with rousing visual flair. Great seeing scintilating Theo of the Luna Chicks, Adam Dugas who is part of the cabaret kollective Citizen Band and co-hostess Shari Vine looking just like Joan Blondell. I was really impressed by a woman who played the accordian and sang in a fantastically choppy manner. She was definately one of my favorite performers, but i didn't catch her name.
My entourage included Dr. Jose Munoz of NYU and his cute lookalike cousin Albert De Acosta, Billy Miller of STH, Slovenian art dreamboat Davide Grassi and the divine Nicole Blackman. Joining us later was Bruce Benderson, Glenn Belverio, Slava Mogutin and his hot beau Brian. The celebs in the audience were Elaine Stritch, John Lurie and Sylvia Miles.
I met with my delightful Bricktops Takes Manhattan students from NYU at Michael Casselli's class. The Kidz have so many brilliant ideas, and Michael has really inspired them with his brilliance. Michael did the best room at Platinum Oasis, an electrical bunker, that people still talk about, and its been almost 5 years.
Ran around with my Israeli pop star son Jonathan Berger, shooting the proverbial breeze with Adrian and Nathan of the Grimm Rosenfeld Gallery and also hanging with John Connelly and company at John Connelly Presents. Of course i had to see my girl Lia G. of Participant, and she remains one of New York's most striking beauties. Its all been such a whirlwind, but i must mention that i did attend an Al Hansen exhibit at the Andrea Rosen Gallery in Chelsea. Bibbe Hansen his gorgeous daughter looked younger then ever, and her boytoy chicano husband Sean Carrillo was working latin dapperness. Got to hang outside the gallery with one of my ex-Cholita's Tallulah Banketa, who has the cutest child with devlish grey eyes. Yes one of my Cholita girls did get The PREGGERS!!!!

PENNSYLVANIA DUTCH
Swarthmore College is lovely. Ashton House which I've renamed Ashy House is a campus guest residence for visiting dignitaries. I have a cozy room in the large stone manor, with lots of windows and a wraparound balcony. The place has the feel of a mortuary, and i wind up turning into a corpse after my first night---not able to sleep because its too damn quiet and peaceful. I'm an urban lady and i need lots of gunshots and buzzing helicopters overhead to get a proper rest.
The students are friendly and eager to open their young minds to all sorts of possibilities. This is very refreshing as most college students these days are completely blank----they only go to school because its a necessity to have a decent paying job. I adore the Swatty's. They are truelly uncommon women & others, to quote ms. Wendy Wasserstein. As i trolled the campus i noticed lots of humpy bucks in short shorts and flip flips in the cold 39 degree weather. yummy eye candy abounding.
Sublime dinner with the Sager Symposium planning committee that included students and main senior organizer Harris Kornstein who is so dear at 22 years of age with peaches n cream complexion and a liza with a Z personality. i guess i'm still relevant to young people, even though i'm a grandmother. i was personally picked by the students as a visiting artist and there was no faculty or administrative elements involved. The generous funding came mainly from Mr. Sager who i gather is a wealthy gay man of considerable WASP family means. Good for him.
I had a wonderful conversation with Siobhan Brooks, an imposing black sistah girlfriend and tyro academe, as well as the engagingly personable writer Laura Kipnis, who gave me a copy of her hit book Against Love. I can't wait to read it on the plane to Austria.
My presentation went very well and was packed to the rafters. My lecture performance took place at Upper Tarble a massive and beautiful hall that looks like a gothica cathedral. Afterwards i partied till 4am with the children and drank mountain liquor from the still of these hot juicy straight boys all packing large swinging packages in their pants. I always go cockoo for youthful caucasion cock. The kids also showered me and Billy Miller of the Manhattan Review of Unnatural Acts with presents that included collage art, sculpture, kolonopin, xanax and valium for my continuing air travels. Thank you all my beauties, i love you forever. remember your bung holes never stink.
The train ride to man!hattan was pretty and my companion Ms. Kipnis was utterly delighful. I'm so glad i got to spend quality time with her. In New York legendary writers Bruce Benderson and Glenn Belverio treated me to a fancy dinner at the east village french bistro Leon on 12th Street. The food was incredible and lots of booty pies at the bar. Then they took me drinking at what use to be the Wonder Bar, but is now dolled up in Soviet drag with awful dj music and a shirtless big titty male bar maid who was really obvious. Later in the week I'll get to meet Bruce Benderson's new french boyfriend Cyrille Thouvenin who is a Cesar award winning young actor, who is beyond major ms. gorgeous.
The next morn Dr. Jose Munoz of NYU took me for a high french champagne bruncheon. Professor Jose and i were able to catch-up latino girlfriend style----she really takes care of la princessa. I'm very needy and i demand lots of pampering from all my gifted and talented superstar pals.