The stick-up-their-butts rich folks might be off to the Hamptons, but way down on Rectum—I mean Rector—Street, the trannies, fatties, and fetishists were in such full force two Saturday nights ago that JERRY SPRINGER must have been on hiatus. See, there was a "big girl" party at some not-quite-large-enough spot down there—LINDSAY LOHAN would have been served as a bread stick—and about six and a half inches away, at the lounge-restaurant Romi, ALLANAH STARR was premiering a weekly transsexual frisson called Gurlesque Burlesque. As a result, the straight male chubby chasers and the chicks-with-you-know fans spent the whole night out-kinking each other on this one tiny strip of salvation by the river.
photo: Vince Keng
"Are you here for the transsexual party?"
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Gurlesque's doorperson KENNY KENNY was sporting an advanced KYLIE MINOGUE-as-Emma Peel look and cracking, "There'll be no hooking outside. All the hooking will be inside, and I get a commission." He was kidding—no commission.
"Are you here for the transsexual party?" he'd ask the solitary men in pencil-thin mustaches circling the club like scared rodents. Weirdly enough, none of them will ever come right in—they have to traipse around the block a few times and get up the nerve to finally enter, like teens descending on their first dirty-magazine purchase. Kenny explained it to me: "When your whole world is straight but you go to sleep thinking about sucking dick and getting fucked, you push it down, but it comes up again. 'How do I tell my mother?' Guilt and fear feed off each other and voilà, you've got men like these."
Well, they seemed nice—and they were only there to catch a burlesque show, after all (and to mix with some fatties who had either wandered in by mistake or who happened to be trannies too). Besides, they were kind enough to wait outside on command because Allanah had called ahead that she wanted some kind of crowd when she arrived. (It was truly heartrending to see nervous nellies who'd finally gotten the balls to go in having to wait in full view on the sidewalk for 20 minutes.) Eventually, Allanah's limo pulled up, but then it dramatically circled the block—the evening's running motif—as Kenny murmured, "Is that a tranny move or what?" At last she emerged, all vavoomy, along with the cooing AMANDA LEPORE, who cut the pink ribbon as someone yelled a transsexual's favorite expression, "Snip it!" By the way, one of the place's specialties during restaurant hours happens to be "sliced meats." Maybe just stick to the salads.
THEIR HEARTS ARE HUNG AND GAY
The men were men and some of the women were too, over at Out, Loud & Funny, a gay comedy panel at the LGBT Community Center (filmed for Theater Talk), which was razor sharp, funny, and informative, but I liked it anyway. "You make me wet," KATE CLINTON blurted to LEA DELARIA at one point, and DeLaria promptly mounted her as even I cheered. (How do I tell my mother?) But in between all the homo hilarity, the room was sprinkled with the tears of gay clowns. FRANK DECARO admitted he was crushed when The Daily Show got a GLAAD award two years after his gay movie review segment was canned. (DeCaro cracked that nowadays he'd like to do a sitcom called Everybody Loves Cock, but JUDY GOLD interjected, "Not everybody.") FLOTILLA DEBARGE said an agent wanted to introduce her to DANNY GLOVER, but advised her, "Don't tell him that you do drag," so she canceled the whole thing and stayed home in heels. And DeLaria talked about the notorious Palm Springs gig where she called Dubya a few racy names and said, "I hate him so much I hate his twins too—but I'd fuck 'em." The organizers promptly pulled the plug—but obviously not their butt plugs. (Sidebar: At least DeLaria got to meet the cast of Laugh-In there, though she said, "They looked really fucking old—except for LILY TOMLIN, who looked great because she's gay, she's gay, she's gay!" "You are what you eat," muttered someone on the panel.)
The next day, I ran into performer JOEY ARIAS—in town to promote the Nomi Song DVD—who's been practically eating sliced meats as the longtime star of Cirque du Soleil's saucy Zumanity show. "It's like being in a frying pan without the water," he said about the Las Vegas lifestyle. "But all kinds of delicacies drop by. GEORGE LUCAS came to see us and BRITNEY SPEARS had a sort of baby shower at our show. A sex show! Oh, well. It'll speed up the baby's process." To help things along, Joey tossed a few pesky ad-libs into the pert performance. During the orgy sequence, he made a cute farting noise and said, "Oops, I did it again!" And when he was being swatted on the ass, he improvised, "Hit me baby, one more time." Apparently Britney loved the gags so much she almost popped little Brevin out right there!
MESSAGE TO MICHAEL
In angstier celebrity-with-child news, comic KATHY GRIFFIN told me by phone that she's pulling her processed hair out over the MICHAEL JACKSON verdict. "I'm disgusted," said Griffin (who's playing Town Hall and coming to Bravo with Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List). "I was so depressed. Obviously, unless you're SCOTT PETERSON and you kill your pregnant wife, you can just fucking do anything. As an experiment, I'm gonna go kill someone today!
