You'rewelcometaking/Black Friday

I have no Thanksgiving plans yet.

Although you know what's strange? One friend got invited to a orgy for Friday the 23rd. Another buddy invited me along to a nasty party called CockBlock (at which the promoter makes a habit of not paying gogo boys and then buying them drinks 4 months later like everything's cool).

My question to you: Who the hell would go to a party where one's body is so fixated upon after gorging themselves on food the day prior. Wouldn't an eager top be afraid to thrust in and pull out some candied yams on the reroute?

Plus who's got energy for sex? All the respectable fags and females are probably going to be exhausted from shopping.

Hustlaball Vegas

A year or two ago, a cute face popped up to the cashier window of recently burnt Micky's and quickly returned to say he was a nip/tuck fan.
Fast forward to now and I'm hosting Hustlaball in Las Vegas. The proprietor of the Hustlaball was the fan of the past and I'm so thrilled to be ahead of Candis Cayne on his list.

This is why I always tried to be nice to people. Except when they recognize me from The Ricki Lake Show. Then I just deny it and say it was Candis.

Check out www.Hustlaball.com for tix and info. That link is only safe for work if you're a sex worker, your own boss, or an elected republican official in need of press.

Women's Murder Club

So I'll recap.
Angie Harmon is a dope chick. Republican as she may be, bitch can pop & lock better than Rerun. For some reason, her and Rob Estes decided they had to Lean like (a) Cholo right before lunch. I had no idea who Rob Estes was before that day but I've filed him in my spank bank for a later date. To see a man freestyling/pop&locking while miming fishing out a giant penis, then doing grown up things with said imaginary penis was enough to make my drag queen Candice's mouth gape open. And nothing shocks Candice- S/he's a professional extra, regularly sucks dick on set and will even invite non-union extra's back to her pad after the wrap.
Angie even stayed through my rehearsals to watch me perform. I did the splits without my junk popping out. She was expectedly impressed.
What else?
Oh yea. Remember the dress I was almost fired over? I ended up looking sick hot in it. They tailored it and one diamante'd strap kept straying off my shoulder all slutty-like. Typecasting ain't always a bitch.
Anyway, it airs on December 14th on ABC and is titled "1.09- To Drag & to Hold."

Terminati...

SHUN! almost.
I almost got fired from Women's Murder Club. My fitting didn't go so well. I walked in with my Christian Louboutin shoes and they had $20 vinyl shoes for me to wear. The dress was lacking...in sequins mainly- considering some fell off when I tried it on. The color was rubbed off many of the sequins too. I called the outfit very "Drag 101."

The costumer didn't appreciate my input. I figured, "Ok. Gay dude; been in the wardrobe game for years. I can talk to him like a big ol' queen and it'll be frank and funny." Au contraire. He must've flipped his shit over my mouthiness. They called my agent screaming. I had to play sorry on the phone...which I was I guess. I mean an actor's job isn't to pick their wardrobe. I've never been to a fitting where they say, "let's cover up your best feature" which they did with my legs. Thank God I'll at least be in control of my makeup and hair. I'm excited for the day that I can get wardrobe approval written into my contract. I'm glad to have the job though still because this will be the last job for a while with the writer's strike.

So catch it- Women's Murder Club first week of December- on this very special episode, we see Chad Michaels play dead queen and I'm the live tranny friend...so new, soooo fresh. Nothing like the CSI:NY with Candis Cayne and me earlier this year. Dead Trannies are the new dead babies for '07 I guess.

We gather here....

to mourn the loss of Willam's career.

Just kidding. Women's Murder Club is gonna kick ass. But it was getting a little iffy with all those reality show for a minute (and with the WGA writer strike, it's not gonna be any prettier any time soon. Tear for Chad & Wayne- sorry buds.)

Catch me on The Dr. Steve-O Show on the USA Channel Monday night around 8 (check your local listings)

Muppet Sex

OK. When I'm famous, I'm going to start a rule book that's to be included in free swag bags and in Kitson. It's going to have one rule.

1. DON'T HAVE SEX NEAR CAMERAS.


Mr. Vilanch is a talented enough writer that he probably doesn't have to give a shit about being famous. I'd love to be funny enough that I could look like him and still have people talk to me other than drive through attendants. He was at a party I was working earlier this month and could barely do small stairs.

I know people who do have sex with him though (my social circles are WIDE) Must be like fucking an oversized muppet. Can you imagine his crack? I'm thinking a gaping wound with wirey terrier-like ginger hair. Y'know what though... Maybe he's a top though. That would be like an avalanche befell Fraggle Rock and snowballed right into an anus.

That being said- I'd love to work with him one day ;)

Who-Whored-It-Better?

On the right, we have the Hanna-Barbera honey with no discernable genetalia.
On the left, we have a lifesized replica with big blue balls

I got no respect. People would be like "Hey- a smurf!" Gimme some cred. C'mon. I'm not just A smurf. I'm Smur-to-the-friggin-fette!!!
And can I just seriously take a moment too? So many people on Santa Monica Blvd asked me what I was. One said "Are you a dwarf?"

By the end of the night I just told people I was Madonna. Someone said,"...oh- True Blue?" I told them to fuck themself.

Ween Wecap

It started poorly.

At 10 am Halloween morning, I woke up to my agent telling me I had a callback in downtown LA for a Women's Murder Club. This was after I went the day before in rush hour to lip sync 45 seconds for the producers. I had to go back because they changed the song and wanted more pep. The song went from a methadone-paced Anything Goes to an obscure 50's number called Tender Trap. I forgot the words twice @ the callback and covered with a blown kiss and a wink. I knew if i screwed up the bridge, I'd end up having to casting couch my way to a co-star credit.

Seriously- calling a drag queen who obviously has plans- on Halloween is like asking a Jewish baker to make like 1200 extra loaves of challah bread on Rosh ShaShanna. I know I didn't spell that right but it's not in spell check. Basically- Halloween is like a drag queen high holiday. I had people (friends I guess) text me at like 6:30 asking what they should be. Like I could help last minute. I texted back "SERIOUSLY?" I told my friend about it and they insisted I text them back with soem further sentiments. A follow-up "FUCK YOU" was sent. The recipient thankfully replied with "SORRY :)"

Anyway I booked the tv show. It's set in SF but I think my part shoots in LA. Boyfriend loves cops and San Francisco ('cause he lived there) so I think he'll even watch this episode. I wouldn't let him watch WMC because they didn't cast me in an episode last month. Now I can take the block off the DVR for the show. Yea. I'm that bitter. But not anymore ;)