By Albert Samaha
By Steve Weinstein
By Devon Maloney
By Tessa Stuart
By Alison Flowers
By Albert Samaha
By Jesse Jarnow
By Eric Tsetsi
And they can even move, if not make genital puppets. At an outdoor social in the town of Seisholtzville, all the fat, nice people showed up to watch the Twitty Fever Band perform a heartfelt anthem addressed to the heavens. ("Wash her pretty face/Dry her eyes and then/God bless America again.") It was too Robert Altmanfor wordsand so was the concession table hawking handknitted doilies and yummy "chow-chow" (a vegetable treat so sugary it doesn't even need woppers or chocolate disks).
If you crave some sweetening, don't turn to Rosie O'Donnell's monthly rag (and no, I don't mean her Tampax). As an essay on Datalounge points out, "a quick review of recent covers comes up with cancer, Fergie, staph infection, and clinical depression. And this from a magazine that calls itself 'feisty and fun-loving.' "
Moving on to feisty, fun-loving nightlife, it seems to bug the chocolate disks out of some people. An anonymous letter just went out protesting promoter John Blair's attempt to stop the crackdown on Limelight (which Blair and his partner won the bid to buy, but which might get its liquor license blocked). The letter says the campaign by Blair and company "intends to alarm the gay community about imminent danger to our nightlife . . . so they can continue to use gays to make tons of money by selling overpriced drinks." Horrors! It also says club businesses are selfish and irresponsible and besides, alcohol isn't necessary to run such establishments. Yeah, but it helps. Now, stop with the No Dick trick, why don't you?
As for Anne Heche, who's back to doing stunts with penises, I defended her through her Ellen years and now she says she was "crazy" back then! That makes me so angry my Atomic Mushroom's turning into a Fruit Bat.