NY Mirror

But back to movies about wacko families: Quinceañera is the sweet indie about a preggers girl, her gay cousin, and the lovable old coot who takes them in. At the Crobar party for the New York International Latino Film Festival, I asked the film's comely JESSE GARCIA and EMILY RIOS if there are any unattractive Latin stars being wrangled for movies. "That's a hard question to ask a Latino," said Garcia, blushing. The actor described his character as "a gay cholo"—which is fine with me, as long as his chinos don't cover his chorizo. "By the way," I asked the duo, "did you know that the producer of your film also puts out wildly irresponsible gay barebacking porn?" If you want to catch their answer, they're probably still standing at Crobar with their jaws to the ground.

Another not-ugly Latin—Miss Universe—came up at a party celebrating the new citizenship of Valentino VP JUNE HAYNES. In between awkwardly joining in on patriotic songs in order to guarantee a piece of cake, I quizzed celebrity photog PATRICK MCMULLAN about his having judged the pageant. "Miss Puerto Rico was my first choice from the very beginning," he related. "She radiated. And she made eye contact with me." And she collapsed. "It was very hot in there," explained McMullan, "because the air- conditioning wasn't working. Plus they tell you not to drink because you can't go to the bathroom. And all those TV lights were on her as she was being interviewed." Honey, that's how I'd like to faint. In fact, that's how I'd like to die.

The liquids flowed at the Le Cirque party for WOODY ALLEN's Scoop, and thankfully a toilet awaited—though unlike MADONNA's on tour, it didn't seem freshly unwrapped. Did I slap any Bush? Nope. Did I get any, you know, scoop? Well, yeah—at one table, director JAMES TOBACK told WWD's JACOB BERNSTEINthat he has a great face for acting, "and in fact, I'm putting you in my next picture." My next mission? Destroy him!


MIXED SALAD WITH CAESAR'S UNDRESSING

In clubland, it's been one long journey, man, all heading toward the girl with the hairy armpits at Happy Valley. But first came a drop-in at the Cock's weekly Slurp event, where the Roman-orgy-themed Satyricum party had a body-painted guy magically peeing wine into a golden trough (Miss Universe should have thought of that) as half the crowd ran for the hills while the other half stuck their tongues out. There was a literary orgy at the neighborhood garden Le Petit Versailles' "Arouse Is Arouse Is Arouse"—a Gertrude Stein tribute where Gertie's books were laid across the impromptu stage and everyone was invited to grab one and read a passage aloud. No one did. Then the organizers put some "Alice B. Toklas brownies" on the snack table. Everyone did.

And finally, foodies have been getting high off the updating touches Asian restaurants have been serving in lieu of (mis-) fortune cookies. For example, the airily kitschy Chinatown Brasserie offers not only the usual slabs of Peking duck, but that old Asian favorite, St. Louis ribs. What a wonderful set of options. Bring on the fresh toilet! Oh, and now that LANCE BASS has finally come out, what about the other four?


musto@villagevoice.com

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