Boobs and Babes

Now, that's an awards show: The World Famous *BOB* at the Golden Pasties

*BOB* needs a boyfriend. The "world famous" burlesque babe with the F-cup breasts is single, which means that there is no hope for us less well-endowed ladies, and we should all just join the nunnery right now. She confessed her dating woes before the start of the First Annual Golden Pastie Awards last Sunday at the Cutting Room (part of the Second Annual New York Burlesque Festival), which proved far more exciting than most award ceremonies. For one thing, there was all that semi-nudity. Then there were the ultra-short acceptance speeches, and the award itself, a giant, gold, glittering tittie tassel that would actually fit only one lady in the room. Or, possibly, the world. And lucky her, *BOB* got to take a Golden Pastie home with her for winning the category—what else?—Best Boobs.

She also shared that she's dreaming of a pink poodle, specifically a pink toy poodle groomed with all the funny little balls. Her poodle's fur will be shaved into the shape of a corset. Me: "It sounds like you've been thinking about this a lot." *BOB*: "Since I was five." Because she can't afford her toy poodle yet, she's been modeling for students at the School of Visual Arts (yes, nude modeling, you perverts!). She says that the classes inspired her to paint, so she listens to everything they say and runs home and tries it out herself. So, that's how one gets a free education! (Something also tells me that SVA's enrollment is about to go way, way up.)

While *BOB* was talking about art school, MISS ASTRID, the dominatrix of ceremonies, ran around with dirty underwear on her head. Eye patch temporarily missing, she borrowed a pair of DIRTY MARTINI's specially made thong panties. The Dirty birdy took home the prize for Performer or Troupe With the Best Turbo Tassel Twirling Skills, and after demonstrating said skills, quipped, "I went to a conservatory for this." The co-organizers of the festival, the impossibly cute WORLD FAMOUS PONTANI SISTERS, snagged Troupe Most Likely to End Up Shaking It on a Broadway Stage and Best Performer or Troupe You'd Most Likely Take Home to Mom. (Note to self: Must remember to put World Famous in front of name. Seems to work for these other chicks.)

Ms. Saturn swings her hula hoop.
photo: Tricia Romano
Ms. Saturn swings her hula hoop.

In between giving out the Pasties, class act JO BOOBS did a classic strip, and COCO LA CREME of SKIN TIGHT OUTTA SIGHT took DEPECHE MODE's "Personal Jesus" literally and stripped from her Scarlet Letter outfit while a deadpan JESUS stood by and snapped his fingers. Cue lyrics: "Reach out and touch faith," which she did by bumping and grinding on the guy, who didn't seem to care one way or the other.

Two very odd performances, one from a strange little man who called himself the EVIL TAP DANCING HATE MONKEY, and the other from drag star ROSE WOOD, caused Miss Astrid to comment afterward, "Now would be a good time to announce our sponsors." Pause. "You had no fucking idea what you were getting into did you?" Rose Wood's act revolved around waxing body hair, and culminated in her waxing huge "hairy" private parts and then hacking off her member. Then the hilarious Evil Hate Monkey person did a dance to "Puttin' on the Ritz." Miss Astrid: "That made me feel weird."

The afternoon's highlight, though, came from MS. SATURN, a bubbly, seemingly drunk pixie. Miss Astrid introduced her as the "little sister" to all the New York ladies, but honey, our girl's all grown up. To the relaxed sounds of "Everybody Loves the Sunshine" by ROY AYERS, she lazily slipped a flower from her bosom, and just as easily slipped out of her psychedelic dress—all while hula-hooping. Her performance had the hard-to-impress crowd on its feet, with *BOB*, AMBER RAY, and KITTEN ON THE KEYS roaring.

The only way to end the party was with a high-flying trapeze act, and while TRIXIE LITTLE didn't swing too far into the audience, she did manage a tease upside-down while hanging from a thread. When she finally revealed her pasties, they had a message. On one breast: The. On the other: End.

 
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