Joan Rivers catered to my every whim!

For those of you who caught Celebrity Apprentice tonight....you saw me & Bam Bam wreaking havoc on the candidates as two of the notorious "gays of room 702". Joan Rivers was catering to our every whim! Yes, we set the gay movement back about a decade.

Since I was bound by a "confidentiality agreement" before, I couldn't tell you that this was the night I tossed the BIBLE from the hotel room window. Yeah, that bit didn't make it onto NBC!

So here's the scoop. Our friends Matt & Wayne invited Bam, me, and our mutual friend Becky to the hotel where they were staying...saying it was being filmed, and that all we had to do was spend lots of free money on room service. That's all we knew--until we got there and discovered it was Celebrity Apprentice. Of course we spent all our free money on champagne!! The golfer girl, Natalie, was hopeless. Obviously she'd only been waited upon. But pro-poker player Annie was amazing. I hope she wins.

We decided to camp it up and play the part - so we asked Joan Rivers to find us a peep show (G lounge? She failed!), asked if we could keep the bible (when security brought it back from 61st street), and in the morning we all cozied up in bed together when the cameras entered. I thought we were good TV. But then again, so was Dennis Rodman. He should've come to room 702! That would have been great TV!

It was really funny to see Joan and Melissa and all the girls call us out on the show's finale. I wrote a text message to Wayne when I saw it. "Joan Rivers just trashed us to Donald Trump!"

Wayne fires back. "And he paid the bill."

Thanks for your support!

A huge thanks to you who have already come on board to produce the film of my new script, now called "Bye Bye, Fruit Fly". We're about half-way there now with funding, so we're still looking for investors--you can find our proposal and business plan here. Please pass along to anyone who may be interested. Thank you, beautiful people!

To be sure, this film panders to its gay base with lots of boys...but it also highlights the plight of our tried and true ally, the indomitable fruit fly!

I'm truly so grateful for all of you who have come on board financially, as well as those who have volunteered your services for music, production assistance, and costuming. It's really exciting to know you believe in us and this project! If you haven't seen, the Hollywood Reporter picked up on our good news just the other day.

From Jehovah's Witness to Fruit Fli? Jamie wins!

The next time you see a Jehovah's Witness at your door, or in the subway holding up their "Watch Tower" pamphlet, I hope you remember this story:

On St. Patrick's Day, I was hanging out at the Boiler Room with my friend Jamie, the original Fruit Fli. Over several Guinness, and later several Jameson (not a good combo!) she shared with me the story of her earlier years, before she morphed into the fabulous Fruit Fli she is today.

When she was young, a babysitter swept her impressionable young mind into becoming a Jehovah's Witness. You know, those crazies who go around ringing your doorbell? I met a gay guy once, who grew up Jehova's Witness. When he came out, his family refused to speak with him at all. They still refuse to speak with him. Imagine.

So Jamie was a really staunch Jehovah's Witness. She was such a good example, they selected her among thousands to lead tours at their gigantic WatchTower headquarters over there in Brooklyn! Jamie says they have a vast network of tunnels under there that spread out and lead all the way to Red Hook. Scary!

Eventually, Jamie found another Jehovah's Witness man and they married. She didn't have much contact with her family, thanks to the religion. But she did have a sister who was lesbian. And then one day the lesbian sister got into a horrible car accident, and was on life support in the hospital. It didn't look like she was going to survive.

Of course, Jamie wasn't supposed to have contact with sinners like that. So she went through a kind of reckoning, and when she approached her husband about it, about maybe going to see her sister in the hospital because she might die, her husband spat, "Who cares? She's a lesbian."

And that's when something clicked in Jamie's head, something just and compassionate. Because in that moment, Jamie understood that despite anything, her sister is a human being. She went to see her sister in the hospital, and by the time she came back she had decided to leave her husband---and their religion.

But because divorce is also actually illegal with the Jehovah's Witnesses, her husband would be kicked out too. Jamie did him the favor of not disappearing. She went before the very heads of that cult and admitted the reason their marriage was over was her fault. She didn't want to be part of their flock. She was no longer willing to accept what they were offering.

Inspired by her sister, Jamie then explored the forbidden world of the gays. And she's been a fruit fli ever since. This kills me because you'd never suspect that this girl who loves the gay boys had ever experienced such a storied past. The girl keeps poppers in her purse, for chrissakes!

Her lesbian sister is paralyzed from the waist down, but she survived. Then, six years ago, Jamie met her boyfriend Marco...at Splash! Ha! Ironically enough, Marco was just getting out of a marriage to a Jehovah's Witness!! He has a daughter, but the Jehovah's Witness wife will not let him see his daughter.

At the bar on St. Patrick's Day, Marco told me that his daughter was now 7 years old and recently celebrated her birthday. For the occasion, he bought her an American Girl doll. But, according to rules, the ex-wife forced him to leave it with their neighbor so his daughter wouldn't see him. She sent Marco pictures from her phone of their daughter opening the gift.

Legal proceedings are under way in that case. But needless to say, my post St. Patrick's Day hangover was compounded with the reminder of how many of us have been heartbroken by spiritual terrorism. Beware! If I did believe in sin, devout religion would be first on my list of offenders because far too often it ignores love. And isn't love all you need?

Elderly Bottom on the Prowl

One of my friends, who shall remain nameless, was trolling the Man 4 Man posts on Craigslist in Washington DC and found this! Apparently Baby Jane Hudson is trolling for sex. I especially like the part where he says he's 76, but looks 70. Not sure what the difference is between 70 and 76, but it seems like he's very demanding, especially with the sherry and the Bea Arthur pussy. I hope someone "made the cut!" And that he doesn't get cut by some knife worshipping hot 16 year old.

Naked Men at the Car-Wash!

I figure it's high time I tantalize you with some naked men. Here's some boys that we shot for Playgirl, down in Key West. I got to blog the adventure for their site. We stayed at the Island House, which is basically a clothing-optional men-only gay Shangri-La.

At the Island House, they even let us do the solo jerk 0ff Playgirl shoots around the property. These always drew a big crowd, but one of the boys in particular did his thing at the end of the pool---around lunch-time. As you can see, the assembled guests didn't focus on their food.

When the guy shot his big finish, the lunch crowd gave him an enthusiastic round of applause. Then we took the boys out to wash the van.
But it was way too hot for clothes.
Show off!
I'm gonna miss this job!

It's an easy, breezy 39 Steps

When all the shows closed on Broadway back in January, I was shocked and surprised to see that the spoof on Hitchcock's The 39 Steps....remained! I thought perhaps it was one of those lame middle America mainstream crowd-pleasers like Legally Blonde . But then I saw it last week, and was blown away. It's got a cast of four, but they play multiple characters---and these actors do it so well, you actually think at times there are 6 or more characters on stage. This show is engaging, highly entertaining, and the great hard-working actors give you more than your money's worth. Yes, in this economy!

The time passed so quick at The 39 Steps, and with my attention span---I could hardly sit through Billy Elliott, the musical---a show that I loved! I thought there was no way Billy Elliott could compare with the movie but to its credit--it came close. Especially the grandma, a number called "expressing yourself" with his little drag queen friend, and then that magical, stupendous pas de deux with his older self---a real-life, muscle-rippling Adonis of a ballet dancer--that just took your breathe away. The show was a little long, with a bit too much focus on the plight of the macho miners...ugh. But the sweet story of the kid that's gotta dance---I don't know if it's a huge hit on Broadway, but it's a huge hit with me.

For more of my take on what's on/been on Broadway, click the theatre tab below.

Was Eleanor Roosevelt a Lesbian?

Up the Hudson River Valley--so much history here!

Checked out FDR's estate in Hyde Park, "Springwood" which was his childhood home and where he raised his family with Eleanor and his domineering mother, Sara. I've got to say it wasn't all that impressive. Springwood is kind of homey-kitsch. At one point, the Roosevelt's hosted Queen Elizabeth and served hot dogs along with the diplomacy, and I can just imagine the English queen twisting up her nose and thinking: "Ugh. New Money."

It's scarily timely right now in 2009--seeing what FDR was handed by Hoover (depression!), and how he dealt with everything from creating Social Security, the FDIC, WPA, CCC, the list goes on and on. It was so impressive, and no more less so when seeing he did it while paralyzed from the waist down with polio he got at the age of 39.

The FDR library, also on the property, has so much information you could spend several days and not take it all in. You knew FDR was big into sailing and the navy and ornithology, but did you know that FDR was a champion (medal-winning!) at the "Running High Kick"? Ok! Yeah, I guess that was big back then. I found a fun pic of a winning running high kicker from 1895 here.

FDR did his running high kick to a height of 7 foot 3 inches! But he complained of neck and pain because after you run and kick high, you just...fall down on your neck. Perhaps that's the reason the running high kick nose dived into obsolescence?

But then let's get some trivia on Eleanor. She's "First Lady to the World" and a landmark humanitarian. She had a "cottage" about two miles from the main house called Val-Kill. It was where she went to find solace, and her favorite place to be.

When I was reading about it at the library, I ran into the pictures of these friends of Eleanor Roosevelt. They are "Miss Dickerman" and "Miss Cook". Take a look at these ladies. What comes to mind?

Now take a look at this stone cottage where they lived. Tell me your gaydar is not going haywire? What if I also told you that this stone cottage was Val-Kill---- the cottage and favorite place of Eleanor Roosevelt? And that they (all 3) started a furniture making business there together?!

Upon further research on the internet---Yes, Marion Dickerman and Nancy Cook were politically active, volunteers with the red-cross, suffragettes, and..."life partners". Eleanors closest friends. I don't want to prematurely say that the "First Lady to the World" was a lesbian, BUT: maybe this is the reason FDR had an affair? Maybe this is the reason Eleanor didn't divorce him during the affair? Or when the affair re-gnited later on? Maybe that's the reason for the First Lady's predilection for sensible flats??!

Was Eleanor Roosevelt drinking from the furry cup?

A little more sniffing on the internet and it's all there. For starters, she had a personal assistant named Malvina but who everyone called "Tommy". Then there's the journalist named Lorena Hickok whom Eleanor called "Hick". There are over 2300 letters between the two with surprising revelations, like this one from Eleanor to Hick, dated 1933: Oh! I want to put my arms around you. I ache to hold you close. Your ring is a great comfort to me. I look at it and think she does love me, or I wouldn't be wearing it.

Was one of the most celebrated women in 20th century history a lesbian? Is this common knowledge? If so, why isn't it spoken about in the documentaries I've seen, and barely even implied at the FDR library? Today in 2009, the gay is still totally disguised information unless you're able to walk in there and look at two photos, read between the lines, and start asking questions.

Living With Jesse #8

Jesse is all proud that he can suck an air nipple in the hotel's whirlpool.

Poet, you know it!

I get lots of email from fun characters, and one is a poet from Virginia by the name of Carl Miller Daniels. I always know I have a mail from him because the subject line announces: "Poetry Alert!" Or "Tooting my own horn again!" And then I get to read something he published, something totally gay, and from a fun poetry journal, like the ingeniously named "Zygote in my Coffee".

Carl then always, and I mean ALWAYS, ends his emails to me like this:

Best wishes from the land of Jim Beam bourbons 'n' Canada Dry ginger ales, gently, oh so gently, mixed, over ice.

Kind of makes you want to move to Virginia, right? Here's his latest- found at Thieves Journal. I asked him to send one for the blog, and for your pleasure...the bourbon slinging Virginian who regularly flosses his teeth hereby presents for your prurient poetic pleasure:

This brand-new poem, "who goes there" by Carl Miller Daniels, has
never been published anywhere else before, and appears for the first
time ever!, here on Jesse Archer's blog! Thanks, Jesse! --Carl
------------------------------

------------------------------------------

who goes there

again the house was empty, and
again the big-dicked family teenage boy
was horny as hell. he'd already
fucked the space between the
two cushions in his favorite
big overstuffed couch, the
one in the living room. and
now he was fucking the
tight smooth space
between the two pillows
on his own bed.
the big-dicked family teenage boy
was long and lean and lanky.
some, including himself,
thought he looked really
good naked. and so
as he fucked that space
between the two pillows
on his bed, and prepared
to pull out just before
he came, he pictured
himself being admired, now,
by those who thought he
looked good. he pictured
doris and susie and eileen
and kate, standing beside
his bed, looking down at
him as he fucked that
space between those
two pillows. he pictured
rick and ted and mitch,
too, peeking out from
between the girls. then
the big-dicked family teenage boy
got really turned on, pulled
out from between the
two pillows, and held onto
his big smooth cock real
tight as
he spurted his cum
into the wad of kleenexes
he'd had waiting for
just this purpose.
now, on his knees,
naked on his bed,
the big-dicked family teenage boy
observed himself in the mirror,
smiled back at himself,
and burped, a big smelly
burp -- pizza, with
coca cola -- the
american dream, only
naked.

Happy Birthday, Bam Bam!

Bam Bam's birthday today. He's really into airplanes and Anita bought him this remote control plane type of flying thing that looks like a giant dragonfly with red pulsing eyes. It's called the Havoc Stinger, and he is having way too maniacal much fun torturing me with the thing.

It's buzzing around the living room--already hit me in the eye---and you can picture me as both King Kong and Fay Wray, simultaneously swatting at a miniature plane and screaming my head off. The only difference is this is not the top of the Empire State Building. It's in my living room.

The pest:







Let's say this is a "Living with Bam Bam" post.

Groom-zilla on the Prowl

Ok, so my gay friends Pierce and Skie are getting married -woot!- and their reception is to be black tie formal. Apparently, some of the guests are not. getting. the. message. They recently sent the below email out to the attendees of which I am not one, thankfully, because after reading this I would've shown up in a sequin leisure suit. Below is absolutely beyond the gay pale--and a hysterical reminder of why you should spare everyone the agony and simply elope!

Remember, this is not the Golden Globes! Does that mean they won't be drinking?

*************

RE: Attire for next Saturday

Get your humor hat on. And regardless of whatever you read in a fashion magazine; GQ, Details, etc. or what the trends are – this is not the Golden Globes.

I have received a ga-zillion calls in the past day or so on what is black tie. (boy you guys wait till the last minute) Whether you are buying or renting this week please do not go broke for this! Do something that is within your budget and work with what you already have. Please keep in mind this is not; semi-formal, black-tie-optional or creative-black-tie.

It is simply known as black-tie, that means a tuxedo jacket, tuxedo pants and a bow tie! PERIOD!!! This night was created by Skie and I to be a fun romantic evening, think Cary Grant or Clark Gable – not Tom Ford (no bare chests showing!)

You may do a black tie alternative as I know some of you want to wear a smoke jacket to add some color with your bow tie that is perfect also. Just remember the difference between breaking the rules and skillfully blending.

http://www.blacktieguide.com/Classic_Components/Alternatives.htm

Here is the definition of black-tie: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tuxedo

Here is more information on what is black tie: http://www.blacktieguide.com/Classic_Components/0_Introduction.htm

Here is a link to what you don’t want to do with images of what is going against black tie: http://www.blacktieguide.com/Basics/0_Introduction.htm

Maybe he should've taken the opportunity to come out?

I'm with my friend Kretch the other night and he's one of those guys who is super-gay, but totally passes. What's it like for those who pass? Damn, you know if they rounded up the gays, I'd be the first to go. Bam Bam would be the last if it weren't for me, and Kretch would be like second to last. Anyway, Kretch is not out at work and so he was at this function, something after work, where his male colleagues found themselves in a social situation.

One of his co-workers, this really man's man is showing Kretch photos on his iphone of his home or something and he's flipping through explaining each photo and then there's a photo of this adolescent 12 year old boy in full make-up, and the guy quickly flips to the next picture and pretends nobody saw that boy in makeup. Kretch speaks up and is like, "WHOA there! Go back! What was that last picture?"

Reluctantly, the man goes back to the photo for a second. "That's my son. He likes to wear make-up." "That's cool," says Kretch. "Yeah," says the father, "We're going with it for now..."

Let's Make a Film!

That untitled script about the fag hag? It's been everywhere. It's been on more laptops than I have! But ultimately I would have lost creative control and it may not have gotten made at all if I sold it and made money... so Casper Andreas and I are going to make it!

This film will bring back a couple characters from A Four Letter Word (slutty Luke, of course!), and a couple characters from Slutty Summer, plus a whole cast of really memorable new characters you will love. The script is packed with laughs and a lot of heart....if I do say so, myself! Casper and I hope to film this summer--and, since we're doing it independently, we need your help! We're looking for a few good....investors! The budget is again really low, and to own a share is $8,000. (x 25 investors for a total budget of $200,000).

Considering the current economy, our pitch (based on the success of the past two films) is that it's better to invest in (and be part of) a creatively rewarding gay film and make a little money, than to lose all your money in the stock market. Good logic, right! Who's on board? ;)

Our proposal states the title of the film is "Island of Misfits"--to be clear, this is a working title, and will not be the actual title of the film. If you (or someone you know!) would like to invest, and get a producing credit...please check out our proposal here. Thanks so much for your help!

The film's synopsis, in case you missed it a few posts back:

She’s New York City’s most fabulous fruit fly! At nearly 40, Audrey Hanson is the racy, fun-loving belle of the ball. She spends her nights as royalty, but when the party ends she always heads home alone.

In the fast pace of high fashion PR, her co-worker Tyler tells her to seek out a straight male version of herself -- the mythical fag stag. But glamorous guru Salome gives her other advice. To nab a man, she insists, Audrey must abandon her gay boys.

When Audrey arrives home from yet another disastrous date to find her roommate has organized a gay sex party in her bedroom, she decides Salome is right. In order to get a man of her own, the last of the fag hags strikes out on a hilarious quest to change the woman she is. Chasing love and lust at all costs, Audrey may find them in the most unlikely of places.

Tweet Tweet, Toot Toot!

As you can tell from the upper right of this blog, I joined Twitter. Because if everyone jumped off a bridge, I would to!

I have no idea what Twitter is for, and I really have no clue WHY it exists (or should), but there it is. This will not change your life, but it might change mine...suddenly, I want an iphone! If you're on twitter and you feel like knowing what I'm up to, feel free to follow me here!

xo

Happy St. Patricks!

Though I am not a ginger, or a leprechaun, I've got a lot of Irish in me. My grandma's maiden name was Mulligan. Her father Ted was a drunken, gambling, carousing immigrant Irish womanizer who slept around, married my great-grandma, then deserted her---and my grandma and her 3 siblings---to go chase the dragon, billiards and more women. See how I would've been if I were made straight?

What a heritage! I'm drinking today to great-grandpa Ted. Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Green Fairy Revenge

Thanks to everyone who responded to the last post...everything is still under consideration...I really appreciate your help and will continue to be asking for your participation in the ongoing creative process!

Now back to your regular scheduled programming:

I went to my writers group on Friday and one of the writers had brought over some bottles of radical faerie created Absinthe. Supposedly Absinthe was used by all the famous Parisian writers, and it awakens the green fairy, or turns you into a green fairy or something and it was illegal for like a century but now it's back on the market. I tried to chug it which was a huge mistake because you're supposed to just sip it like a cordial. It tasted like rocket fuel. I ended up leaving early. Lucky me!

My friend Trent carried on, sipping away at his Absinthe until it was all polished off and then it turns out the green fairy flew him over to the West Side Club sauna...where he ended up puking and then passing out on his cot till 6am (accumulating a huge overtime fee) and he's pretty sure he wasn't raped by a fairy of a different color, but, he implores, "What the hell is in Absinthe??!"

Because so far it's done nothing for his writing.

Help me with a title?

Are you game for a little audience participation!?

I've written a script about the last fag hag. Here's a promo synopsis I wrote up:

She’s New York City’s most fabulous fruit fly! At nearly 40, Audrey Hanson is the racy, fun-loving belle of the ball. She spends her nights as royalty, but when the party ends she always heads home alone.

In the fast pace of high fashion PR, her co-worker Tyler tells her to seek out a straight male version of herself -- the mythical fag stag. But glamorous guru Salome gives her other advice. To nab a man, she insists, Audrey must abandon her gay boys.

When Audrey arrives home from yet another disastrous date to find her roommate has organized a gay sex party in her bedroom, she decides Salome is right. In order to get a man of her own, the last of the fag hags strikes out on a hilarious quest to change the woman she is. Chasing love and lust at all costs, Audrey may find them in the most unlikely of places.

So yeah---long story short: she discovers that you don't need to change who you are to get what you want. The film naturally is totally raunchy and spirited and all about the gay boys too, and let me tell you I put these characters through the wringer!!!

Ok, here's where you come in....I need help with a title! Initially, I wanted to call it "A Hag, her Fags, and a Stag" because that's what it is about, but nobody liked that title. Then I wanted to call it "Hag on the Run" because that just cracks me up. Again, few people liked it and I'm told that the word "Hag" is just a turn-off in the title.

Friends suggest something with "Fruit Fly". Perhaps..... Bye, Bye, Fruit Fly? The Last Fruit Fly? Fruit Fly Forever? Flight of the Fruit Fly?

Strange Fruit Fly?

Among Peacocks?

Island of Misfits?

Manhattan Misfits?

Misfits?

Do any of these stand out to you, dear readers? Or can you make a totally new and fabulously sparkling suggestion of your own?

Gym Junkies

Recently I re-joined the city gym because it's close to my house and it's cheap and there's absolutely no "scene". Wait, what am I saying!!!

The city gym is really genius. There are all sorts of types--from the country-western looking pair doing partner-pilates (I call them the "Clampets") to the super-hot Latino guy who has no idea how supermodel hot he is, to the black guys running around in "So you went to college? I went to the school of hard knocks!" t-shirts, to the guy who looks like Yosemite Sam and is chatting up all the juicy booty ladies....all the time. Anyway, THIS is the city gym.

I went back because of their FABULOUS recesssion special. The city gym is now only $36 for 6 months! Of course, it used to be free. And whoever says that Obama is a socialist can just stop right now because we were socialists long before Obama. Like at this city gym, when it was free, all the homeless would come in and take showers. There is nothing more appetizing than seeing a homeless man shower. They have lesions the size of Alabama, and they actually multi-task by washing their clothes in the shower! Genius!

Since they started charging to the gym, I haven't seen the homeless in there, but I have good news! I asked about them! Turns out the homeless are given a time, I think it's every Monday, to come in and do their showering (and wash!) still for free. But anyway, I was at the city gym this week and there was this guy who is way too buff, kind of looks like a white bullfrog he's so big, and he's standing before the barbell rack and then I look closer and he's drooping. He's, yes, he is NODDING OUT! And I think that's pretty fantastic that you can do heroin and then go to the gym. In fact, if I was to do heroin, I would definitely want to do something productive like go to the gym. So there he is, nodding out like a total junkie at the gym and nobody is caring. I don't think anyone else even noticed. I do my whole workout and 40 minutes later he's still in front of the barbells, managing to do a couple of tricep curls, blissfully high on heroin.

I was pretty depressed to return to the city gym. But why did I ever leave? This is so on the brink, and all I can think is I'm paying only $6 a month for a gym, entertainment included!

Overheard in the Deli

It's kind of late at night and I'm a little drunk so I head into the deli for a pack of hard-boiled eggs (peeled, of course) and at the sandwich counter, right next to the eggs, I see this young woman--standing next to this giant who looked and smelled homeless, and since they made a really curious pair, I pricked up my ears.

Woman: "Pick out any one you want..."
Homeless: "Can you just give me the money?"
Woman: "Which sandwich do you want?"
Homeless: "I want the money for the sandwich."
Woman: "I'm not giving you the money, I'm buying you a sandwich."
Homeless: "Can I have the money?"
Woman: "You said you were hungry."
Homeless: "I am."
Woman: "So I'll buy you a sandwich, but I'm not just giving you the money. So which sandwich do you want?"

Pause for a long face-off.

Homeless: "If you give me the money, I can get pizza across the street."

Gay Pride 2009

While we're on the subject of drag, our Gay Pride 911 emergency meeting has taken place!

This is the annual meeting of friends where we decide what our group theme will be for the New York Pride Parade. This year's 911 emergency meeting was only held in March. Once it was in November. The parade isn't until June!

Last year we rocked the Gay Vote. I hope my friend Harrison will do my makeup again this year!

Aunt Sam brings you this Public Service Announcement!

We always want our idea to be current and contemporary. Granted, our themes from 2003 ("Gay Bride") and 2004 ("Out of Iraq and into my Crack") are still, lamentably, contemporary today.

The meeting was yet another heated debate and ended in a very close decision. A large contingency wanted to honor Barbie's 50th birthday...a theme which nearly won until Anita Private said she absolutely couldn't pull off Barbie, even at 50, and we all agreed.

So, drumroll please....the theme this year is going to focus on the economy. We're going GOLD. Yes, that oughtta sparkle!

We'll be the "GOLD DIGGERS OF 2009" which (in addition to seedier implications), hearkens back to a string of Busby Berkeley films from the great depression of the 1930's. The gold theme also provides ample opportunity with which to mine some good names. Amber Nugget? Pam Handle? Goldie Standard? J'adore D'or?

Look for us on Fifth Avenue!

Putitos por Caballitos!

When in Argentina.....!!! My ex Gabriel (below left) and his boyfriend Emanuel (right) are two of the butchest gay boys in Buenos Aires. See, here they are brooding sexy at Argentina's "Amerika" club.
So I was shocked when the two invited me over to their house in Buenos Aires and I found THESE TWO staring me in the face. Ok!!!

Always up for a bit of bad drag, I quickly transformed myself into one Tormenta Jones. As you can tell, Tormenta didnt have a lot to work with. The yellow underwear was a lucky match, though.
Notice in these photos I am doing absolutely anything to make sure that the leopard print heels get into the shot. Also notice how I am a dead ringer for Shelley Winters in Lolita. You know, the scene where she does this pathetic Cha-Cha to sex-up her husband after he falls for a 16 year old.

Looking at me here, I understand why she was ultimately terribly unsuccessful in wooing her own husband. It also plays into fears that I may end up aging like Shelly Winters.
Another friend showed up for some Kabuki love, Argentine style.
Ultimately, we went out on the streets of Caballitos neighborhood of Buenos Aires.
Champagne and cobblestones!
Quick story about the lovely lady to my right, in black. I've forgotten her name but she was so completely audacious. Everyone else went back inside, but he wanted to walk around the block and tempt truck drivers. So of course I had to join!

Now, you thought I was crazy, but this one! This one---she hiked up her dress in the back so her ass was hanging completely out and then walked onto a busier street and by then it was around 4 a.m. and there was some late night traffic, and she's slowly sauntering in the street---ass hanging out. Taxis are honking, truck drivers are slowing down, eyeing her approvingly, actually talking to her! At this point, on a dark street in drag at 4 am, I am hiding behind a tree. I watch and marvel and at one point I ask her, "Do you ever do this for money?" and she responds all sly, "No. I do it only for love."

At which point I practically fell out of those leopard heels.

But he really started to scare me and I kept saying, "They can't all tell you're a guy!" because he was that good, and then later I pleaded "Let's go....You are going to be KILLED!"

Very calmly, he turns to me, ass hanging out, and says "Nah. Aca en Buenos Aires somos muy Gay-Friendly."

Revenge of Google

Recently, I was up for a job I really wanted--and it's out there in the real world, and then suddenly I get nervous that, you know, they'll do the dreaded google. Then way too much truth about me will come out. I didn't get the job, and I'm not sure if it was because I was googled or not. Maybe they did see something they didn't like, and I'm reminded once again---I don't want a job where I have to hide who I am and what I've done! Even if that means I walk a narrow, narrow path.

Short of dropping off the face of cyberspace and reinventing myself with a new identity, I'm stuck with what I've done this far. I have to be okay with that.

I'm not the only one. My involvement in the film Slutty Summer is the least of my worries, but when I told director Casper Andreas about the horror that happens when I get googled, he launched into the story of the Sound Guy from Slutty Summer.

Sound Guy is straight. Sound guy was kind enough to come in and volunteer for a couple days doing the sound on Slutty Summer. Volunteer, as in he did it for free. He got credited for his work on the film and then a couple years later got a drawn out divorce from his wife. When it came time for an acrimonious custody battle, his wife told the court she should have the kids, saying her ex husband the Sound Guy was involved in gay porn, and she cited Slutty Summer!!!

Casper had to give the court the actual truth about Sound Guy, and the film. No word on who won the kids.

Mayonnaise Sandwiches, etc.

Edina turned me onto this video, filled with gaylebrities, and taken at Chelsea's Face to Face Spa 5 year anniversary party by the adorably irreverent Mike Diamond. He managed to smack me speechless when he told me his pancreas was coming out of his anus. Somehow, he managed to get more disgusting while talking to Jack Mackenroth.

About, um, about my hairdo. It has since been mercifully chopped off! And speaking of hair, check out my friend Miss Robbyne Kaamil in this video. She is genius. My favorite sound bites from Robbyne are, in order:

3) Her instructions for washing a hairpiece in murphy oil.
2) How she's happy she doesn't have to get up at 5 o'clock and pick cotton.
1) A real mayonnaise sandwich,"Not the mayonnaise sandwich from Splash on Saturday night."

Living With Jesse #7

A typical Monday night for Jesse.

Hibernating in the House

Winter has not ended! It refuses to end! The snowstorm that blasted into NYC yesterday brought down (again!) temperatures just at the time when the landlords (always lovely people!) are looking to reduce their fuel bills and turned down the boiler heat. I threw on my SNUGGIE and still was freezing so I did what any walk-up living New Yorker does and I headed directly to the oven, turned it up to 500 degrees, and threw open its door.

Hours later, I started to get sleepy. My eyes began to sting. And I remembered someone told me that you can die of carbon monoxide poisoning from the open oven. Reluctantly I turned off the oven. I did not go to sleep. Bam Bam came home and we watched a documentary about First Ladies.

Did you know Eleanor Roosevelt needed an orthodontist? And Barbara Bush is actually a real C U Next Tuesday? Edith Wilson practically was president after her husband suffered a stroke, and Dolley Madison saved a painting of Washington when the White House burned in the war of 1812 (yes, we lost a war before Vietnam!).

During this riveting show, Bam Bam gets up off the couch and puts on his big puffy winter coat.

"Where are you going?" I ask him. "Nowhere," he says, zipping it up as he sits back down.

College Studs, Lakeside Homes, and Frisky Fathers

Charlie David...is nothing like the devilish, duplicitous Stephen he plays in AFLW! He's a dear darling friend of mine, and after making a splash on the festival circuit, his latest film MULLIGANS is a touching family drama something like Lolita meets the Graduate -- only funnier!

Charlie wrote it, produced it, and stars in it---and you can buy it pre- sale on DVD here & now. Mulligans means "another chance" in golf, so here's another chance to support independent film. Go Charlie!

Desperate Times...

...desperate jokes! I got a real kick out of this one. My friend PlayDan says he can no longer afford to feed and care for his expensive pet mouse chihuahua in this tough economy.

Last seen on the corner of 13th and Avenue B