Hillary and Condi and Dykes, Oh My!

Plus items of purely prosthetic appeal.

More definitely, club legend Kenny Kenny is starting a Thursday-night party called Sebastian at the former Eugene, and among the other hosts will be dueling trannies Amanda Lepore and Sophia Lamar. Maybe they'll have to speak again—to each other, I mean.

Everyone's speaking to me lately—and they're saying some kooky, crazy shit. I just got an e-mail declaring, "I'm a graduate student at CUNY's school of journalism and I'm researching a piece on anal bleaching. Would you mind telling me where you went to have yours done?" I was doubly touched—first, that you can actually do a thesis on anal bleaching these days, and second, that someone was that intimately interested in my anus.

The most memorable lines overheard in clubland recently have been "Warning: It's Asian size" (said by a Vietnamese go-go dancer on flashing his wares to a letch—all right, me) and the immortal "I'm so tired of sitting on 10-inch dicks and having to pretend it hurts!" Don't I know it, girlfriend!

Lights, camera, auction: Trade's Paulina Gaitan
Marco Nagel
Lights, camera, auction: Trade's Paulina Gaitan


I've searched my mind and soul for a segue that can take me from oversized gonads to Betty Comden, and I can only come up with this: I'll tell you what hurts. (Oh, shut up. That'll have to do.) Last year we lost Betty Comden, who, with Adolph Green, wrote scripts and/or scores for Singin' in the Rain, The Band Wagon, On the Town, and even some non-legendary musicals. Betty was funny, sophisticated, and so influential that the all-femme tribute to her at the Majestic last week proved to be a Broadway queen's fantasy, attracting so many theater types you could finally see that Beth Leavel and Lucie Arnaz are not the same person. Betty would have loved this "girls only" trip to New York, especially the group sing-along finale to "Make Someone Happy."

And finally, Does Your Soul Have a Cold? is the documentary by Mike Mills (who did the Ritalin-laden Thumbsucker) about how antidepressants have been marketed in Japan in order to make everyone happy. At a Paper magazine–hosted UnHollywood Film Festival screening, Mills clarified: "I'm not Mr. Pharmacology Guy, I'm Mr. 'I Feel Fucked-Up in the World' Guy." And his next film will be much frothier. "It's about how my dad came out of the closet at 75," he said, "and is a super gay. And he didn't take any pills!" Even Viagra!


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