Semi-Charmed Life

Well, we've made it to the hump, my peoples.  2 more days of sheer torture then we'll be able to relax our weaves and order martinis and microdermabrasion treatments like true socialites should!

Monday night, I met the peeps at Soho House for a fun cocktail hour filled with some delicious white sangria.  When it's cold and rainy outside, it's sangria time inside!  The venue was packed with the usual delicious Eurotrash and you couldn't throw a stone without hitting some foreskin hidden in couture.  After our cocktail hour, we made our way to Buddakan for a gorgeous Asian feast.  Somebody please holler at those edamame dumplings because they were simply divine!  After a serious gorgefest, we made our way to the Bowery Ballroom to see our favorite Scottish electro dance sensation Calvin Harris.  Bowery was transformed into a gay German rave and we danced with the best of them.   Turns out at the end of the night, I wasn't holding glow sticks and looked like I left a foam party (Please interpret this with the filthiest of minds).  If you love to dance with heterosexual men, check Mr. Harris out: http://www.myspace.com/calvinharristv .  A big thank you to Ms. Grace for hookin our weaves up and hosting such a fabulous evening!!

Last night, I took out the ever glamorous Ms. Jacky for an evening of frolicking and nostalgia. We had an amazing dinner at Kittichai before we cabbed to my big surprise for the evening: Third Eye Blind at the Nokia Theatre!!  That's right, bitches!  It's 1997 and we're rockin our weaves like San Francisco trannies!  I don't even know how to properly describe the crowd. Imagine a bunch of washed up frat boys who decided to congregate at Roosevelt Field to discuss the importance of cement.  And they all brought their ho bag lacrosstitute wives with them!  Did Suffolk County Community College vomit all over Times Square?  Oh! That's actually an appropriate assessment.   I just can't even conceive how people still think it's acceptable to HIGH FIVE each other at a concert after every song.  I almost bent over and stuck my ass in the air and hoped for a spanking to get some enjoyment out of the fratalicious mess. But the songs were delightful and even though Stephen Jenkins looked like a hot old mess, we still had a lovely time.  The evening ended with a stop at Waverly Inn for some dessert and wine.  The paparazzi were in full force outside but we only spotted a large-and-in-charge Harvey Weinstein and some dumb whore he called a "date" and that we called a "golddigging glory hole in heels".

Rainy Mondays

Rain Rain Go Away!  My Weave is Lookin a Crazy Wack Mess Today!  Goooooo Rain!

Yes, that's right.  It's a cold tranny mess up in NYC today.  It's gloomy and wet - apparently Mother Nature forgot her Depends and we've got a leak situation going on.  She should switch to Bounty.  Or maybe I should tape some sanitary napkins' situation on my head.

My weekend was fairly Betty Ford chic.  Friday night, I met up with Ms. Kelly for a lovely dinner at the Soho House rooftop.  There was more foreskin than botox up in that bitch.  But indeed the food was delicious.  After a few rounds of beverages, my weave expired and I hustled my way home.  Saturday, I had the pleasure of doing some serious lounging.  Now a lot of people think that I have naturally flawless skin (...errrr ahem cough cough), but it's really because all of us need a break sometimes when we lounge about indoors and smother various skin caviars all over our faces (think Tara Reid in Duke's lacrosse team's locker room at the end of the night) and we come out the other side looking gorgeous and radiant.  

Has anyone seen "I Am Legend"?  Now, I know what you're thinking!  What?  Twat?  That's not a teen romantic comedy!!  Why is this drunken socialite bitch indulging in a blockbuster feature on a Saturday night?  Because my little Fresh Prince of Bel-Air is up in that shit and gave a brilliant performance.  Yes, it's a big blockbuster movie full of special effects and I am sure movie snobs everywhere are deepthroating chainsaws in protest, but fuck that shit.  I thoroughly enjoyed it and would recommend it to anyone I remotely would glance at.  I just wished that Sam, the dog, would have been replaced with Carlton.  Now THAT would have won some serious Oscars.  Suck it, Helen Mirren!

On Sunday, I met Ms. Berna for a tasty brunch at Soho House before we lazed the afternoon away shopping and judging the peeps on the street.  As my girl Whoopi says in my favorite movie of all time, Jumpin Jack Flash, "There's some funky lookin people in New York!".  Later in the evening, I met Ms. Lisa for a gorgeous dinner at Da Silvano where we dumped some mighty tasty Italian fare down our throats.  

Springtime Glamour

Good morning trannies.  Somebody shout out a "Hallelujah" because it's finally Friday.  The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and my soul is black.  All is right with the world!

This week has jizzed by...errrrr, whizzed by and my weave is preparing for the weekend.  On Wednesday, the peeps and I had a few pre-dinner cocktails at Soho House.  Our waitress was a bubbly HTM that resembled Ms. Rosario Dawson.  Hey girlfriend!  We then zipped to Schiller's for a delicious dinner at the LES gastro pub.  Holler at the salmon because it was certainly divine.  After the dinz, we popped over to Mercury Lounge for the ever delightful performance by The Virgins.   If Jake Shears could blow Albert Hammond every day...and swallow, it would sound like The Virgins. Definitely check them out: www.myspace.com/thevirginsnyc .  Big ups to Mr. Jason for hookin our weaves up and hosting such a fab evening!

Last night, I had a tasty dinner at Lure Fishbar with Ms. Ethrina.  What a nautical treat!  The interior of the restaurant looks like some ridiculous yacht on the French Riviera and the clientele looks like the interior of a few crusty old douchebags.  Everyone looked related to George Hamilton and the old bats resembled tranny versions of Joan Rivers.  It was heaven! The food was delicious and we dumped more seafood down our throats than a frat boy on a Saturday night.  Damn that tuna was tasty.

If you're looking for me this weekend, I'll be poolside at Soho House under a big umbrella surrounded by empty glasses of Bloody Mary's and covered in cigarette butts.  Clearly, I am master cleansing.

American Idol

Ahh we're down to the top 6 this week and in tribute to butt plugs and KY Jelly, the contestants will be singing numbers written by Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber. And PS: It's Earth Day so recycle your plastic dildos and aluminum nipple clamps! And PPS: Are you loving what a catty queen Ms. Andrew is in the profile packages? No one's good enough for him! Simply heaven!

Syesha Mercado: All I've got to say about Ms. Syesha's performance tonight is WOW WOW WOW! Excuse me, Miss Thang, but where has your personality been hiding? It feels to me like you've been napping in a cave for the entire season, but tonight, you came out to shine! Ms. Syesha sang "One Rock 'n' Roll Too Many" from Starlight Express and worked her shit out. Her personality was oozing everywhere and honey, I got slimed! I was certain she would go home this week, but now I may have to reconsider. Well done.

Jason Castro: Now you all know I love my little dreaded peanut, Ms. Castro, but his rendition of "Memories" from Cats was a hot tranny mess. It sounded like what the inside of a tranny's manmade vagina must look like. Sick! Let's hope our boo doesn't get the boot!

Brooke White: Thank goodness for Brooke White because this means Mr. Jason is safe! Her performance of "You Must Love Me" from Evita was a fucking disaster. She fucked up the beginning by forgetting the lyrics, her vocals were horrifying, and Robot Paula was digging inside her acid trip to find something to say. Have fun with your career in babysitting!

David Archuleta: Momo sang "Think of Me" from Phantom of the Opera and it was so hot! Did anyone else hear the gay gasp throughout Manhattan as mo's citywide clutched their heaving bosoms and cried a tear? I mean, the combination of a Broadway hit and Momo's emotional performance is almost to much to bear. I disagree with Simon and think his performance was stellar. You could definitely hear that rendition on Top 40 radio and it would be a smash hit. Well done, Momo! One note though...what exactly is going on with Momo's lips? Has he been hanging out with Jessica Simpson and getting them plumped up? Or did Papa Joe 2.0 just smack him in the mouth too hard?

Carly Smithson: Our favorite Irish tough bitch sang "Superstar" from Jesus Christ Superstar and she sounded great! Her voice was full, soulful, and gorgeous. I was quite impressed and although I don't think she'll win, I think she'll have a fantastic career ahead of her anyhow. Bravo!

David Cook: Butt plug sang "Music of the Night" from Phantom of the Opera. At first, I was a bit unimpressed and bored, but he worked it out and by the end, I was compelled and loved it. Also, who enjoyed Ms. Weber's blatant flirting with David? It was so homo chic.

The Hills

Why oh why do I continue to torture myself with this stupid show?  Oh, I know!  For one simple reason...Ms. Lo Bosworth!  She is the sunshine in my dark cave, the filling in my Twinkie, the clitoris on my vagina.  Heaven!  Did you people watch last night?  Ms. Lo was EN FUEGO.  Here's the thing.  The reason I love her so much is she seems to be the only rationale person on the show.  She knows how ridiculous everyone is, how moronic Audrina and Justin Bobby are, and she isn't going to stand for it.  Every word she speaks has a resonance of anger and sarcasm and to me, that's a true bitch.  When Audrina agrees to move in, she says "I'm so excited...Yayyyyy" with the most monotone drone you've ever heard.  There were streams of diarrhea shooting out of my ass because I was laughing so hard.  My situation was lookin like a hot Willy Wonka mess. But forilla my peoples, nothing else really happened in the episode.  Speidi fought, Lauren got a "job" with Whitney, Justin Bobby returned (lookin like a tranny version of James Franco), and Heidi's slow attempt to get her "girlfriends" back.  Blah blah blah Fake Fake Fake I Love Lo.

A Weekend in Boston

Ahh the weekend is unfortunately over but I certainly had a lovely jaunt up to Boston.  I decided to rent a car and have a lovely Spring drive through New England on Saturday while smoking endless packs of cigs and blasting Leona Lewis.  Upon arrival, I checked into my lovely suite at Nine Zero, one of my favorite hotels in the Bean. Ms. Shannon came to meet me and we worked Newbury Street like a lacrosstitute on a frat boy.  At the end of our spree, I managed to purchase an endless supply of lube.  Hey!  Wait!  Get your minds out of the gutters, you filthy teabags! By lube, I mean facial moisturizers, luxurious shampoos, and body washes.  Sheesh!

That evening, Ms. Shannon and I rendezvoused with her boyfriend Mr. Matt for a tasty dinner in Somerville at Highland Kitchen.  Then we hightailed it out to Newton to visit with Ms. Liza who was in town for the holiday.  

Sunday, I met Ms. Jessica at Sonsie for a fabulous brunch.  Holla at some smoked salmon benedict!  Delish.  Then we did some more shopping before I hit the road to come back to New York.  I did make a quick detour to downtown Greenwich for some fabulousity, however, that shit was closed down by the time I got there.  I guess the Stepford Wives have Sunday bedtimes.

Just a lovely Monday

Well, it certainly was! Usually when Monday rolls around, you'd rather shove a beehive in your ass and pray for an explosion (that's what he said!), but not today! It was surely fabulous. Because if you're going to BE fabulous, you should be FABULOUS.

I met Ms. Erika, Ms. Annie, and Mr. Isaac at Craft for a sumptuous dinner. It certainly was delicious. Wine, passion fruit margaritas...oh! And there was food too! Yes, the ambiance is lovely if not a bit geriatric. Hey! Is that Ms. Blanche Devereux over in the corner?! Is that Paul Anka throwin down? Well, indeed the clientele is old school, but the food is heaven. A big shout out goes to Ms. Erika for hosting such a lovely dinner. HOLLER-ER-ER-ER!

After din din, Mr. Isaac and I rolled over to the Highline Ballroom to catch Jason Mraz's jammy jam where he showcased his new upcoming album. His voice is so crystal clear you could swallow it whole. I kept thinking, if this lad was on American Idol, Ms. Mo Mo Archuleta would sure be gettin a whoopin by Papa Joe 2.0 every night for not achieving Mr. Mraz's standards. The crowd was full of fatties from Connecticut and frat boys from some gutter, but we grooved right along. If your musical tastes lie between Jack Johnson and G. Love and you smoke 100 bowls a day, you'll surely love Mr. Mraz. Holler at Jason for hookin us up with passes.

And now I need to catch the one and only crazy ass Mimi from her appearance on Oprah today. I am sure the lambs are screaming...Clarice.