Friday, May 25, 2012

"I'm on right after the stripper!"

Why is parodying women SO hilarious? My friend Heather NumberOne got us all dolled up and out the door for an action-packed night around Sydney. And yes, I'm taking this bottle to GO!
Heather again painted my face so well it was indistinguishable from my Vegas cousins and suddenly, through the pancake mist, Mayday arrived! Heather had a list of locations our presence was requested: birthday at the Tilbury, housewarming in Paddington where she was to perform ("We have to be there by 10pm, I'm on right after the stripper!") and a party at Standard above Kinselas in Taylor Square.
in the society pages!
Heather rocks it
Of course it didn't end there. It ended for Heather at the Stonewall after a tranny-chaser was so into her that he became possessive and wouldn't even let her talk to her friends. "I'm going to the Ladies'" she said, excusing herself and racing to a taxi. Tranny-chasers are like stalkers - you only want one when you don't have one, and I wanted one! The closest thing I came to it on the night was when this kid I'm chatting with says, "I think that DADDY is after you." whereupon I turn to see Daddy... Bam!
the Bamfords
Starting out at the Tilbury, Heather explained how to make an entrance that will have them talking. As if we weren't enough at the Tilbury - where no drag queen has showed her wig. But according to direction, a lady enters an establishment only a couple of steps before purposefully stopping to survey. This gives the patrons ample chance to notice her. When everybody has put down their vinos and iPhones to stare and gawk and the gorgeousness, you carry on confidently past them.

This went off without a hitch, but more memorably we found ourselves at the top of the Tilbury stairs leading down to the outdoor patio. Two Cinderellas about to descend to the ball. I coolly turned to Heather. "My mother had a friend who went to charm school. At charm school they say never to look at the stairs as you descend." Two stairs later, I stumbled and tumbled down the staircase. There may have even been screams. No way to disguise that blunder, but I was most dismayed because I had imagined myself as imposing and imperious and slinky - like the Martian Girl from Mars Attacks.
But I was channeling Priscilla Presley plowing down the stairs in Naked Gun. Much like Priscilla, I pretended like nothing happened and Heather quickly ordered our friend Steve to get us a bottle of champagne. Drag allows you to be bossy and use people as your slaves, qualities I already mildly possess, as Bam will attest...

I may be too old to wake up with mystery bruises (and pancake on my pillowcase) but I'm at a point where the bruises aren't even a mystery. I just pretend I can't remember nosediving down the stairs in drag in front of a million people. At least I'm well-disguised.
Getting ready with Steve. Spot the only pussy!
At the Tilbury with our friend Carl... Happy Birthday!
notice illusion that the ladies are small and diminuitive
 In Paddington at the housewarming for Ben. Clue? Mayday. In the Kitchen. With a Peppergrinder.
The stripper never showed. "Strippers never show," said Heather. "Strippers are SO unreliable!"
But Heather did not disappoint and christened the new Penthouse home with her own stripper nun.
Meanwhile, Mayday was in the bedroom eating sausages.

Can you imagine opening your door to find THIS in your bedroom? Or finding this vision in the cubicle at Bodyline? Or as your winnings behind door number three on a game show reveal??
And this bitch is meant to be a VEGETARIAN!


1 comment:

Tony said...

The Bamfords are such a cute couple...