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Mem Sob
Greetings from the town o’ P, the day after the adorable, pony-tailed young gals have departed, slightly hungover, sunburned and screamed out. Not me. Them.
They had a blast despite the Town’s strict enforcement of the open container law. I had no idea how big Coleman coolers on wheels could be. The red plastic beer cups are now on sale at the Stop n Shop. Next year the merchants and the police should coordinate.
Hope no one in the area was wearing one of those SCRAM [secure continuous remote alcohol monitoring] bracelets that Ms. Lohan is sporting or the alarm would have gone off all weekend.
The baby-dyke watching from the bench in front of Spiritus was a pleasure. The just-graduated gals leave town to an uncertain job future, oil despoiling and a yo-yoing market, so I didn’t begrudge them one second of fun.
Started my Lady HAHA Shows at the Crown and Anchor and will resume at the end of June for the rest of the summer until Labor Day. I’m excited by all the new material and look forward to writing and performing it each night. And I’m working with props now. How do I do it? I don’t know.
Happy Gay Pride Month! Have fun and make trouble. Repeal DADT.
What position would you want Elena Kagan to play on your softball team?
Kate wants to hear from you! The next question of the week, straight from Kate, is: What position would you want Elena Kagan to play on your softball team? To get your voice heard, simply hit the Comment link and tell her what you think! No registration is necessary, and you can post anonymously if you want.
Unnatural Gas
“Don’t get a swelled head.” “Don’t be a hot dog.” Those were the messages I got when I was growing up. So I don’t brag. There was that time I did share with you that I got one of those Mormon genealogy programs and had traced my lineage back to the Blessed Virgin Mother – she and I both have the same jaw line and similar widow’s peaks – but I didn’t make a big deal of it.
But please allow me to share humbly a proud performing moment. I was emceeing a three-day LGBT conference in a very lar-di-dar hotel. The confab was spectacularly conceived and executed with great workshops, practical laser-like political analysis, great hallway conversations and moving speeches. The problem was the vinyl chairs. Every time anyone shifted slightly, an embarrassing whoopee cushion sound of flatulence hung in the air like a bad joke. Attendees were mortified if they made the sound and nearly rigor-mortised to avoid making it again.
At the farewell brunch, after a few final housekeeping details, I asked everyone, on the count of three, to slide forward on their chairs. On three, the very elegant crowd slid forward and created a glorious non-methane producing blast, followed by sustained laughter. The featured speaker, a state governor about to take the podium, must have wondered what manner of fresh hell he had wandered into.
I don’t brag, but I believe this joyfully juvenile moment shows why I am invited to work such classy events. Hell yes, I am proud to have presided over what I believe is the first-ever Fart Mob. I am going to recommend the action to the fearless activists at Get Equal; it has a bright future in the targeted disruption of homophobic speeches.
What was the most positive line you ever got when you came out? My brother told me he was glad I was finally getting some.
Kate wants to hear from you! The next question of the week, straight from Kate, is: What was the most positive line you ever got when you came out?
My brother told me he was glad I was finally getting some.
To get your voice heard, simply hit the Comment link and tell her what you think! No registration is necessary, and you can post anonymously if you want.