Beer Cat

Says "Happy Thanksgiving!"



Off to the Rrazz Room tonight to see comedian and friend of the blog Ant!

in your FaceBook

I am pretty tired of the e-mail/social networking "fill out this quiz" chain letters. You know the ones-- asking things like "what's your favorite animal" "what did you have for lunch?" "If you were on Gilligan's Island, who would you be?" and other nonsense. When e-mail was new that sort of thing was kind of endearing. Not so much now.

Until I read this guy. His blog is basically just one-liners. And the sort of things I wish I had said. Hilarious.

Read his brilliant smart-ass response to the FaceBook "Questions and Answers."

Miss Otis has no Regrets

Fueled by obligation, responsibility, soup, juice, vitamins, herbs, a handful over over-the-counter cold remedies and a steady stream of adrenaline, I managed an incredibly successful performance and an absolutely wonderful time Friday night at the SF Bay Area Gay Rodeo Drag-A-Thon.

If you haven't been in on the story here's the gist: The Rodeo came up with a fundraiser to showcase cowboys you would pay to see in drag, and the cowboys had to solicit sponsors to raise the money. The event took place Friday night at Marlena's.

Former Mr. Gay Rodeo and former Rodeo President Doug Graff agreed to help out the newbies (one of the criteria is that the cowboys in the show must never have done drag before). Doug was exceptionally generous with his time, experience, and accessories.

Doug is also known as Winnie Baygo.

My eyes kept watering from the cold so I had to forego eyeliner and fake lashes, but Winnie did me up fierce. (And very much in the Winnie Baygo style—everyone could tell who did my makeup.)

I was amused to get my nails done by the shop across the street. I have been going there for almost a decade and the ladies there still can't grasp that I am gay. There is a language barrier to be sure, but C'MON! After I while I gave up trying to explain. Then Shilpa started joining me from time to time.

"That your girlfriend?!"
"No."
"That your girlfriend?"
"No."
"That your girlfriend?"
"No."
"That your girlfriend?"
"No."
"That your girlfriend?"
"Sure. Whatever."
"I knew dat was your girlfriend!"

I went in for an acrylic set but she said they had temporary nails that would not come off during the night but could easily be removed tomorrow. Basically these were plastic "fashion" nails from China that affixed with superglue. They only had diamonds and fireworks and hello kitty sort of stuff. So while I was hoping for red plastic they could just glue on, they had to glue the fashion nails on then paint them. Which of course I managed to screw up once or twice before leaving the salon (things guys don't generally know: you should pay first as retrieving the wallet ruins the nails. Then there was the incident of retrieving my keys from my pocket to get back inside.)

But back to the drag.

I'll tell you, it was an experience!

First of all, no one recognized me. I didn't recognize myself in the mirror. And once all that drag was on, I was a different person. I don't know if it was the hair or the nails that did it. Most experienced queens say there is a single trigger. Once that goes on, the personality emerges.




I had a blast. Thank God for good friends and Jack Daniels!



RMJ and Miss Otis Regrets



Miss Otis Regrets and Kevin Koberele



Shilpa and Miss Otis Regrets
(Can we take a moment for the size differential here?)



Miss Otis and James Hass



Guy Innes and Miss Otis Regrets
My intimates were there to cheer me on: James, Shilpa, RMJ, and Kevin and Shawn. Also showing their support were Canadian Guy and Sharon. And a very special thank you to Michael Smith, and Lance Holeman, for cheering me on and taking such amazing photos! (Flickr is all nanny now so to see my photos or Michael's you'll have to go to Your Account/Privacy & Permissions and scroll down to Content Filters and turn safe search to off.)

Kevin had agreed to be my man prop for my second number, and did an excellent job.


Sure, I performed well and looked good too, but most of the questions or comments I've gotten were all about who that hottie was that I brought along.

I really do wish that the band could have been there. 77 El Deora would have howled at my renderings of their songs, and the crowd's reaction too. Although I sorely missed having Mau, Jeanine, Jenn, and Christopher there, I had a blast doing the numbers.

Apparently, it showed. After the first number, Marlena herself asked me to come back and become a repeat performer. High praise indeed!

It was a lot of fun but I don't know if I'll do it again—drag is a lot of investment. And I have no idea how to put on my own makeup. Or where I would store clothes, shoes, wigs and all of the face products. If Winnie agrees to make me up again, and let me borrow some hair again, I'll consider it.

Oh yeah, let's talk about the hair. I felt like Janice from The Muppet Show. And I kept flipping my hair to get it out of my face (and annoying the people behind me). And having all that hair was certainly a unusual experience for me.

Scenes from the first number "This Record Sucks":







And from the more elaborate "Is This Gonna Hurt?":



"This feels so good..."



"It's so long..."
(since I've had so much attention)



"Before we take this any further let me choose..."



"Is this gonna hurt?"



"Is this gonna hurt? I can brace myself a little if I know."






This event, as I've said, was a fundraiser, and we raised about $1,200 Friday night. $300 of that was in raffle ticket sales during the night, and the remainder was in drag sponsorships. I raised over $500 and won prizes for raising the most money. Including a fabulous new Rodeo belt buckle.


And you know how I am about buckles. I was also given a special edition boxed set of Garth Brooks CDs.


A friend arranged to video record the show but flaked on me so I don't have a recording of either performance. Shilpa took a few seconds of video here and there and I have put these together into about a minute clip of my performances and the award.

Enjoy!



I do have a couple of things to say about performing, but it's late and I'm tired and I'll follow up later. Folks have been asking for a Miss Otis post and I wanted to get all of this up as soon as I could manage it!

Something tells me you haven't seen the last of her.

Apple gallery and video. Flickr set (Shilpa's photos) and Michael's.

getting out of the cold

Sorry for the hiatus. There has been a NASTY cold working is way through my workplace and social circle. It has laid me OUT. I came down with it Wednesday, went to work in a hazy fever for meetings on Thursday, then only got out of bed Friday to rally for the show. The show, you know, must go on.

Friday night was a blast and I'll give it its own post soon. A day of bed rest, a handful of over-the-counter cold remedies (barely effective though), and lots of adrenaline can really stem off a cold for several hours. The Jack Daniels helped too. By the end of the night I had lost my voice completely and was generally a physical wreck.

I got out of bed on Saturday long enough to get some Pho and then bags of Thai curry takeout so spice out the cold for the next couple of days.

I have yet to get out of bed really. I've sent some e-mails and posted some photos using the laptop and iPhone. As you know I have been a huge fan of Flickr, but ever since Thursday they are just pissing me off. And looking at the help forums, I am not alone.

At any rate, I'll be back to the blog soon. I'm gonna go steam my head for a while and emerge from my own stupor then you'll get a pretty post.

By the way, WTF with all the hassle just to get some freaking Sudafed?! The meth freaks have ruined it for the rest of us who would just like a chance to breathe.

queer strike

December 10: A Day without a Gay.

Unfortunately, I have a big meeting on December 11 which I run and they depend on me. These people have been nothing but supportive so I do not want to punish them. I'll be taking the rest of the day off though.

"Sorry. I can't come into the office today. I'm feeling a little queer."

EJ speaks with (a) Southern Accent

My favorite Nashville Hottentot/Event Planner Elizabeth James has an article in the November/December issue of Southern Accents.

This is the review section that made it into the online version.

because the inside of my head is the consistency of baked brie?

Is that why when people are really sick they say "I feel like death on a cracker."?

There has been a cold going around work.

I had a little inkling in my chest for about a week, but yesterday it emerged full grown in my head. I'm tired, hot, and breathless.

I can't wait to be strapped into a corset, wrapped in a thousand layers of synthetic fabrics, and shoved under hot lights tomorrow.

After my afternoon meetings it's back to bed for me.

Officer Asswipé

I am fairly sensitive to security and non-security people overstepping their bounds to harass photographers to intimidate and prohibit public (and legal) photography. I've posted about it many times before.

Now there is a new blog for photogs to post video of abuse in action. It's called Schmuck Alert!

It's only been up a week or so and there is already this INSANE tirade by on Oakland police officer who soooo oversteps the line, and illegally threatens an Oakland Tribune photojournalist who was breaking no laws.

OMFG. WTF? And SRSLY, NSFW.

books flying off the shelves?

No, it's a brilliant public art installation going up in North Beach.

The Language of the Birds features a flock of illuminated book in flight, their spread pages as birds' wings.



WATCH THE SKY: at dusk, Sunday, November 23rd!

Via Laughing Squid.

in case you weren't sick of them already

the rich and entitled of Wall Street are still making bucks and acting like pricks.

Via BoingBoing (commenting on a story in the Wall Street Journal):

Merrill Lynch Needs a Dressing Down

The Wall Street Journal, Friday November 14th, reports on "culture clashes" between the brokers of Merrill Lynch and the bank that bought them, Bank of America. As the article portrays it, the values of Wall Street are coming in conflict with those of Main Street. "Merrill staffers joke that Bank of America employees are recognizable in the elevators by their less expensive attire and American-flag lapel pins."

Merrill Lynch is bullish on snobbery and status. These snobs, wearing more expensive suits, consorted to run their company into the ground. Now they look down on the company that rescued them and the people who work there as not being worthy, not sharing their own high status. It's another sign that failure will not humble Wall Street or cause them to change their ways. It's also a bad sign for Bank of America of the difficulty of getting these dandies to do an honest day's work.

These are the good people we're helping bail out and they look down their noses at the rest of us. It bothers me that we're providing welfare payments to people who fly first-class, stay in five-star hotels, eat in expensive restaurants, watch sports in skyboxes and travel in limos more frequently than rock stars, all the while being impeccably dressed in the classic fashion. It just makes me want to rise up out of my seat in coach, walk to the front of the plane and grab one of them by their silk tie. I want to scream: "Get out here, you bum. I know you're not the one paying for this." I'd half-expect them to defend themselves by saying "Hank Paulson said I could sit here."

street fare

While my street is getting pricier and pricier, these clever people put on a show for those who might drop in via Google Maps Street View.

from a knotted-sheet escape:



to a parade!

priced out of the neighborhood

Just up the hill from me.

Originally listed as a single unit, two-bedroom TIC for a mere $3 million, now you (clearly not me) can get upstairs and downstairs for only $4.3 million.

Sigh.

A renting I will go.

anti-gay laws hurt more than civil rights

Prick us, do we not bleed?

From the American Psychological Association (APA): Anti Same-sex Marriage Amendments Spark Psychological Distress Among GLBT Adults and Their Families

Excerpt:

“The results of this study demonstrate that living in a state that has just passed a marriage amendment is associated with higher levels of psychological stress for lesbian, gay and bisexual citizens,” Rostosky said. “And this stress is not due to other pre-existing conditions or factors; it is a direct result of the negative images and messages associated with the ballot campaign and the passage of the amendment.”

The qualitative studies, while much smaller in scope, give voice to some of the people directly affected by anti-gay marriage amendments. The first study, “Balancing Dangers: GLBT Experience in a Time of Anti-GLBT Legislation,” focused on 13 GLBT people living in Memphis, Tenn., who were interviewed at length about their experiences during the 2006 ballot campaign. The researchers, led by Heidi M. Levitt, Ph.D., at the University of Memphis, grouped the respondents’ reactions into eight major themes, or “clusters.” These included, for example: “Initiatives lead to constant painful reminders that I’m seen as less than human by our government and public laws,” and “The irrationality of anti-GLBT initiatives and movements is baffling, painful and scary: We are not who they say we are.”

Participants reported feeling not just alienated from their communities, but fearful that they would lose their children, that they would become victims of anti-gay violence or that they would need to move to a more accepting community. Some of these anxieties were mitigated by social support.

In the times I feel more angry and enraged at these powerful haters actively attacking me and mine, I am more inclined to the next line from Othello: Wrong us, will we not avenge?

condoms for Alert Reader Paul Day

Sorry. That should have read "condiments."

For ARPD's desire for bacony goodness:



Baconnaise.

Via JoeMyGod.

from cowboy to showgirl

I haven't really been talking about it here on the blog. I'm not sure why really. I think I am nervous. (I know I am nervous.) And shy. And a little embarrassed. (Honestly, it's possible.) Frankly, I just think that I don't want everyone or just perhaps anyone to see me like this.

I alluded to it before but it was subtle and you may not have noticed.

Here's the sitch:

The Bay Area gay Rodeo needs to raise more money (it is at its core a fundraising organization). The board has been thinking up new ways to raise money beyond producing the annual rodeo, quarterly dances, and working booze booths at street fairs.

Last month, they came up with this: Cowboys You Would Pay to See in Drag.

I made the list.

Performers must be members of the Rodeo and must never have done drag before. At least I will be in good company.

John, Mr. Bay Area Gay Rodeo 2008, had the good sense to wait until after I had had a few before asking me if I would participate. Unfortunately, the scheduling worked out that we only got two weeks' notice!

The event—the San Francisco Bay Area Gay Rodeo Drag-A-Thon— is this Friday night at Marlena's.

I had hoped to drop, you know, like 20 pounds beforehand, but not so much.

I and six of my friends will be doing two numbers each (I am assuming in two shows). Both of my numbers will be songs form 77 El Deora. I got Mau's (songwriter) and Jen's (performer) permission at their last show at Thee Parkside. Jen even offered up her large bandanna-fabric cowgirl costume but I cannot imagine it would have fit me.

I am sorely disappointed too as the band was eager to come and support the cause, and see me drag up their songs. This Friday is the band's last gig for the year and they will be playing at the Fourth Street Tavern in San Rafael and unable to attend.

I would have been so cool to say from the stage, "The man who wrote that song is over there. The woman who sang that song is over there. And this is her dress!"

But alas.

Or in this case, a lass.

My drag name is Miss Otis Regrets.

This is called a Drag-A-Thon as participants have to raise money.

I AM STILL LOOKING FOR SPONSORS.

C'mon kids. Pony up $20 to put me in drag. Make a pledge (e-mail to andthegodslaughed@me.com), and money must be received by the night of the event.

I'm getting competitive here, so dig deep.

Donations are tax deductible and PayPal is accepted.

In preparation for Friday, I have been slowly losing the beard. I grew it as a lark after Barney shaved my head but now I can't stand that it is gone. I started by chipping away at it on Sunday:


This morning I am down to just the burns.



Now I suppose any fibbing I do this week will be bald-faced lying.

less high, more highfalutin on Polkestrasse

I miss the Lush Lounge.

Sure it's there, but only in name and bricks and not spirit. I will credit Kenny and his band for almost singe-handedly gentrifying Polk Street, and as much as I appreciate the lack of crime and grime but there are many days I miss the slightly seediness and unabashed unabashedness of Polkestrasse. Last year Barney had to keep me from verbally decimating a snooty English girl in the Lush one night who was throwing off far too much attitude for a bar she clearly knew nothing about. And pissy little girls should not pick a fight with a bar fag in the Lush. When she demanded that all women here be referred to "ladies" I gladly educated her that the only ladies on Polk Street were hiding their candy. And we that much preferred their company as it was more genuine.

It feels that outside of the Cinch and the Red Devil, Polk Gultch is all Marina tourists now. Only a slight edge, and an abundance of noodle restaurants, remain of what we once knew and loved.

At least the most egregious offender has failed. The über-Marina/Disney/Opryland corporate concept bar O'Reilley's Holy Grail has closed——and has been reborn with at least stylistic improvement as "Midpoint."

From the looks of things, it promises to be a nice bar and restaurant. But again, far too fancy schamncy for how I like my Polk Street. With California Cuisine, an extensive wine list, deep mahogany and comfortably curtained corners, this may be the next hot spot for fine winer/diners who still feel too young, too hip, or too anti-Republican to become regulars at the likes of Post Rio, Farralon, or Garibaldi's. (Expect Midpopint's prince point to be at some point below those just mentioned but significantly higher than what one would expect on Polk Street.)

I can't go this Thursday night, but y'all can go check it out on the cheap. There are making their grand opening (although they have been serving for a couple of weeks now) a hat-themed night. Wear a hat and enjoy a three-course prix fixe menu from 5:30 to 10:00, and bar specials include discounts on draft beer and well drinks. For the chicly chapeaued, they will have a hat contest too.

iHungry

The awesome folks at OpenTable have come out with an iPhone app.

Nice.

white face turns black and blue

The blog has been very serious as of late. It is time for more silly fare.

You know, like Clown on Mime action.

Copyfight!

I haven't posted on copyright, censorship, or intellectual freedom issues here in a while, but the issue is still important to me. And I thank the good people putting up the good fight-- like the folks at BoingBoing and the EFF.

From Cory Doctorow at BoingBoing, a strong yet succinct expression of why this is important:

The Internet is a system for efficiently making copies between computers. Whereas a conversation in your kitchen involves mere perturbations of air by noise, the same conversation on the net involves making thousands of copies. Every time you press a key, the keypress is copied several times on your computer, then copied into your modem, then copied onto a series of routers, thence (often) to a server, which may make hundreds of copies both ephemeral and long-term, and then to the other party(ies) to the conversation, where dozens more copies might be made.

Copyright law valorizes copying as a rare and noteworthy event. On the Internet, copying is automatic, massive, instantaneous, free, and constant. Clip a Dilbert cartoon and stick it on your office door and you're not violating copyright. Take a picture of your office door and put it on your homepage so that the same co-workers can see it, and you've violated copyright law, and since copyright law treats copying as such a rarified activity, it assesses penalties that run to the hundreds of thousands of dollars for each act of infringement.

There's a word for all the stuff we do with creative works — all the conversing, retelling, singing, acting out, drawing, and thinking: we call it culture.

Culture's old. It's older than copyright.

See his full column: Why I Copyfight.

National Impact

The "Join the Impact" nationally synchronized protest rally was an enormous success. Friday night some of us stayed late after work to make signs. I found it strange and exhilarating that this was the first protest that I had been so invested in, and/or crafted signs.

As usual, Andy Towle and Joe My God have stellar reports, and have collected extensive galleries and videos of the nationwide rally for LGBT equal rights.

We were texting Keith in Nashville who was participating in the rally there. In the cold and rain. Very exciting!



This is it. The new Movement. We're pretty pissed, and we're not going to take it any more.

Here's a great view from Kristen Blackmore taken from the SFist gallery:

My camera is still out for repairs so I only have a few shots of the day taken with my janky old camera that only works intermittently. I took plenty using Shilpa's camera and we'll post those as soon as I get the SD card from her.

However, we're still gay. We are still the creators. And as such there were some wonderfully creative signs. (Click to embiggen.)
















There are plenty of good signs all over flickr. And I flove this one seen in NYC (via Andrew Sullivan/JoeMyGod)

So very gay!

The day was hot. Hotter than any day I can ever remember in SF. And no clouds. We were grateful for our protest signs as they offered shade. The 5,000 plus that showed up at City Hall were baking in the sun. It turns out the MC for the day was a friend from Sundance. We couldn't see the podium for the longest while, but I recognized the voice first.

Unfortunately, while the grass/net roots were so powerful in sparking and organizing this event, it was terrible at setting the agenda. The first 90 minutes featured inspiring speakers, but they should never have let the little boy sing. Some young 20-something wrote a protest song and wanted to sing it. The sound system was so inadequate to the event the first hour featured more chants of "Loud-er! Loud-er!" than civil right chants. Gadzooks this kid's voice was bad. Further maligned by the sound system, and the outright boringness of the song. People had already started to disband due to the heat and the interminable feeling generated by the litany of speakers-- some relevant and inspiring and some seeming more like placeholders or pity presentations.

One group I would learn later was lead through Chinatown, which I think was a better idea, and certainly resulted in better photos. The masses at our end were led by no one in particular on another march down Market street where traffic was blocked for about an hour.

Surprisingly, the march ended at the Castro with a whimper. With no one leading and nothing to do when we got there, the crowd thinned along the way as people sought refreshment, caffeination, or brunch. And for such a hot day and such a massive crowd headed in that direction, the Castro was actually quite calm.

I got a frozen latte, a haircut, some pieces for next Friday, and was on my way home to eat, deal, and practice when I was called up to the deck of the Lookout by David and Sean. Love those boys and I happily detoured. Shilpa had already gone home for brunch, but was called back for more sunshiny cocktails with the Trouble Makers.


Shouts to David and Sean! Thanks for making my day!

hot destination!

Back from an enviable tour of exotic and erotic points south and a brief trip back east, after months of sojourning, the Boy is back.



Hijinks have already ensued.

Feel the love. And the Gucci.