THE NECK

The neck never lies.

On Oprah's sofa today sat a rather bizarre looking Lionel Richie. Shot up with more Botox and Restylane than Sharon Stone, Nicole's daddy looked like a wax dummy. OK, maybe his upper face appeared smooth and somewhat younger, but his neck revealed the truth - crepey and saggy and looking every inch his true age.

A word of advice to Mr. Richie: Always make sure the carpet matches the drapes before appearing on national television.

HOPE IN A BOTTLE

I think Mick Jagger sang it best…“You can’t always get what you want.”

Let me explain:

My best friend Peter has been in love with one man for 20 years. Unfortunately, this man treats Peter like a bunion that won't go away. Oh, they have had sex a handful of times over the years, but it usually ends with him telling Peter…”We’re not doing that again – ever!”

Peter continues to hold out hope, and thus, has put his love life on hold while playing the waiting game. Some might call this romantic, but I beg to differ.

This past week, after 10 years of chastity, Peter finally persuaded him to spread his cheeks. Unfortunately, the long awaited penetration didn’t go as planned. It seems with all the anticipation, little Peter would not rise to the occasion.

The moral of the story: You may not always get what you want, or even what you need, but always always carry Viagra.

FAME GAME

The new Scissor Sister’s CD is out today – grab it because it is fabulous. The single "I Don't Feel Like Dancing" is #1 in the UK.

I once had a close encounter with lead singer Jake Shears. About six years ago, when he was a go-go boy at a sleazy dive bar in the East Village, he jumped off the bar and kissed me. I was flattered, but I was standing there with my boyfriend. Later – clad only in a g-string - he chased me out onto Avenue A pleading with me to stay. My boyfriend rolled his eyes and muttered that he must be either high or drunk.

What a nice boyfriend, right?

Jake, I'm single now. Are you listening?

TOWELHEADS

Those towelheads are at it again.

OK, the pope said some shitty - albeit factual - statements about Islam.

And what do the towelheads do?

What they do best...take to the streets in angry mobs chanting death to America, death to the pope and promises to take over the world and kill all Christians.

I'm sorry, but it looks to me like the pope got it right.

FASHION HOUSE

Is anyone else obsessed with MyNetworkTV’s tacky telenovela Fashion House? I simply can’t get enough of surgerized stars Bo Derek and Morgan Fairchild.

Poor Bo can’t act whatsoever, but you can’t stop looking at that gorgeous face – and thanks to Botox, it doesn’t move. Bo plays a thin veiled imitation of Donatella Versace and appears to be channeling Heather Locklear’s style of Melrose Place acting: look mean and shout a lot.

Morgan does a better job in the acting department, but not by much. As for her surgery, she definitely is my new role model – I mean, this broad is pushing 60 and looks amazing.

The story: It seems Morgan’s character is hell bent on ruining Bo’s character, which leads to numerous cat fights and bitch slaps. Toss in murder, adultery and a fashion posse of sex-crazed back stabbing bitches and that about sums up the plot.

OK, the story line is predictable and shallow, but so am I.

GRANDFATHER

You never know what you will find on the worldwide web.

Case in point:

I was googling my last name one lazy afternoon and I came upon my estranged cousin's website. That's cool, I thought, I'll bookmark it and show it to my parents when I visit Minneapolis. I should point out that my cousin is a very talented painter with a focus on realism

When I arrived in Minneapolis, I showed the website to my parents. As we scrolled down the page, we came upon a surprise. There staring back at us was a painting of my grandfather - my father's father. The painting had won awards and honorable mentions in numerous competitions. We arranged a visit and the photo above is of my father, mother, cousin and grandfather. My grandfather was a painter, too, and was an inspiration to my cousin.

By the way, my parents are 87 and 80 in the pic - I think they look pretty darn good.

HEALTH

OK, I do my best to eat green, so I'm always in and out of health food stores. The one thing I can't understand is this: why do the people who work at health food stores always look so unhealthy?

BEYONCE BEWARE

Is it just me, or does anyone else think that Beyonce is soooo overrated. I mean, I am sick of everyone saying what a good singer, actor, dancer she is....I just don't see it. And with mama Knowles cooking up her costumes, she looks like a tacky hooker. Why doesn't anyone champion real talents such as Pink or Christina Aguilera?

On a blast from a Beyonce in the past, I surfed onto Jody - "Looking For A New Love" - Watley's website. I was shocked to discover that this grammy award-winning singer is suggesting that fans buy her new CD wholesale from her and hold Tupperware-style parties to sell the CDs for profit. Jody goes on to say that she will perform for whomever sells the most CDs. I mean, this is a woman who has sold millions of records and now she is offering to perform in living rooms. Tragic.

Beyonce, honey, enjoy while it lasts.

A GOOD MAN

You know, Manhattan is often described as the ultimate island of lost souls. I mean, with all the wretched, superficial and vain “sex and the city” sorts Jimmy Chooing about, it’s hard to imagine any decent and kind people left amongst the concrete. But every now and then, a ray of hope comes beaming your way.

Let me explain.

I was on a “personal” shoot for a bodybuilder who had competed and placed 2nd at the Chicago gay games. Great, I thought, another egomaniac muscle Mary who thinks he’s all that and an extra large condom, too. You gay boys know what I mean - the insecure twister mister who’s really a sister, but acts all superior and butch and then goes home and slathers on Estee Lauder eye cream and sings along to Madonna. Nothing wrong with that one iota, but please, toss out the mister and accept the sister is all I’m saying.

Well, I was pleasantly surprised. Shaking my hand was a man with kind eyes and a quiet bashful smile. He wasn’t exactly featuring Brad Pitt cute, but more Russell Crowe rugged and manly.

He said he grew up a skinny kid with thick coke bottle glasses. I could tell he still kinda thought of himself that way, which made him even more adorable. He didn’t seem at all like the type to have photos taken of his muscles or even compete in a bodybuilding contest. As it turns out, his more outgoing partner was gifting him the pictures and had encouraged him to compete.

As the day wore on, this man seemed too good to be true. He said he waited a full month before consummating his current relationship; and he totally believed in monogamy. What’s more, he preferred men with a few more pounds than less. To top it off, he listened and laughed at all of my monologues and stupid stories.

Ok, I know he’s happily partnered with a great boyfriend and four dogs, and I ‘m not about to pull a Glenn Close, but it’s so damn good to know there are still guys like him walking amongst us.

911

Today is my 100th post, and it's also the 5-year anniversary of 911. I think it's kinda fucked up to call 911 an anniversary, since anniversaries are usually fun events. Believe me, as someone who witnessed 911 first hand, it was anything but fun.

Two things stand out in my mind from that horribe, horrible day.

Several hours after the towers fell, hundreds of people were crowded on Houston Street carrying pictures of their lost loved ones. Because the falling towers spared no one, and the hospitals were empty, these poor souls had nowhere to go, and thus, were desperately trying to get their photos on the television cameras. I will never forget the look in these grieving and sad eyes as they pushed their pictures at the cameramen. Never.

In the days after 911, every business, house and building in my Manhattan neighborhood had American flags flying. That is, every building but one - a Muslim mosque on my corner. Months before the attacks, my Israeli boyfriend would walk by the mosque and utter..."I wonder what those motherfuckers are in there planning."

I guess he was right.

MR. STRANGE

I was in Minneapolis cleaning my childhood room when I came upon my high school yearbooks. I laughed and laughed at the pictures and marveled how cute everyone looked. I especially got a kick out of the written salutations – and to think these people were my friends! Here is a sample:


“You are the weirdest person I have ever met, “ wrote Sherri.

‘If you went bald, what would you talk about? “ wrote Renee. “Your hair is your life.”

"Thanks for borrowing me your curling iron at lunch," wrote Rita.

“Strange is a good word to describe you,” wrote Susie.

“I will miss you coming up to me and asking: ‘Is my hair looking thick or thin?’, wrote Darlene.

“I respect that you never care what people think of you,” wrote Bob.

“I wonder what will ever happen to someone so strange,” wrote Teresa.

“Don’t drink so much,” wrote Linda.

“You are without a doubt the strangest person I have ever met, “ wrote Kari.

“You shouldn’t use so much hairspray,” wrote Brian.

"You shouldn't wear so much makeup," wrote Pooh.

Well, it's 2006, and I'm proud to report I'm still strange. Yes, I still worry if my hair looks thick or thin, I still wear too much makeup and I still love my hairspray. The more things change, the more things stay the same.

Amen, sister.

DELLS PICS

Since I just learned how to post pics, I thought I would share a few of my pics from the infamous and campy Wisconsin Dells. Once again, truth is stranger than fiction.

WISCONSIN

A life size plaster facsimile of the Greek Acropolis.

A 75 foot Trojan horse.

Broadway dinner theater.

A mansion-size house completely turned upside down and turned into a funhouse.

Groups of French, Russian and Italian speaking teenagers.

Where can you find all of these oddities?

In the middle of Wisconsin, that’s where.

Yes, nestled in a cavity surrounded by some of the most beautiful river ways in the nation - and unbeknownst outside of the Midwest - lies the Wisconsin Dells - a Vegas-style vacation mecca complete with palm trees and gaudy neon signs advertising strip motels, water parks, ferris wheels and boat excursions.

Every year thousands of farm folk, city slickers and small town hicks converge on the Dells for a two-week summer vacation. Amidst all of this pure Americana and flag waving are hundreds of voices speaking Russian, French and Italian.

What?

It seems the Dells hire college-age kids from all over the world to man the counters during the summer season. Most of the kids live in dorms in the woods surrounding the Dells. The kids I chatted with were not impressed with their first visit to America. I mean, if the Dells were all you had to judge America on, I wouldn’t be too enthused either.

But wouldn’t it make a great teenage “coming of age” story for Lifetime television. You know, foreign teenagers working in this midwestern madness along with the vacationers – kinda like a white trash “Dirty Dancing” with a foreign twist.

ON A STICK

Well, I broke down and went to the Minnesota State Fair – the 2nd largest fair in the United States. I mean, this thing is huge with over a million people passing through the gates.

Everything at the fair is centered around food served on a stick. Yes, food on a stick. The fair may be called the “Great Minnesota Get Together”, but it should be called the “Great Minnesota Obesity Convention”. In all my years, I have never witnessed so many obese people wobbling around shoving sticks of food into his or her mouths.

What exactly is served on a stick?

Let’s see, they have deep fried candy bars on a stick, deep fried cheese curds on a stick, deep fried Twinkies on a stick and the latest delicacy – hot dish on a stick, which consists of meatballs and tater tots rolled in batter and deep fried. Did I mention everything is deep fried?

I did consume some yummy frozen custard and a bag of Tom Thumb mini-donuts, but what I enjoyed most was ogling the hundreds of teenage country boys.

Hot boys on a stick sounds pretty good to me.