Monday, June 30, 2008


I swear, I wasn't going to watch this show, but with nothing on the boob tube this summer, I don't have much of a choice. And, no, I wasn't about to read a book - although I can't wait for the Madonna tell-all in a few weeks.  

As for the Lohan's, who knew that a 14-year-old from Long Island had such a hip-hop soul?

Of course, I'm joking, but this show is a train wreck you can't take your eyes off. The basis of the show is mother Dina attempting to turn her youngest daughter Ali - an ugly version of sister Lindsey - into a singing sensation.

Mother Dina looks fabulous. I mean, with her bleached hair extensions, skinny jeans and that blank Botoxed expression, she's a priceless example of stage mothers gone wrong. At any moment I expect her to scream out: “Sing out June, Sing out!”

Hey, lightning struck twice with the Simpson sisters, so maybe little Ali has a chance, but I’m not holding my breath.


Of course, Tyra's sappy show has yet to create a supermodel, but I did recently work my magic on season three winner Naima.  

I think I made her look like a supermodel, don't ya think?

Friday, June 27, 2008


I had a good laugh today.  I was picking up some paper towels and Ajax at Jack's 99 cents store when I came across frozen fish (tripoli and salmon) in the freezer section.  I mean, you're taking your life - not to mention your stomach - into your own hands when you buy fish at the 99 cents store.

Thursday, June 26, 2008


In a landmark ruling on personal gun ownership, the U.S. Supreme Court declared a Washington, D.C. handgun  ban unconstitutional. 

Of course, Bush and old daddy McCain championed the decision.  

Obama did not.  

I ask you:  Why do people need to own guns?  It's a 100% fact that countries (Denmark, Sweden) that have strict gun control laws have dramatically less crime.  

America's gun obsession has lead to school killings,  drive-by shootings, domestic violence, suicides and other assorted killings.   

One loony man on CNN said:  "Now I can protect my family."  Protect your family from what?  I mean, is this the wild west where disputes are settled on the streets?

I'm sorry, but guns have one purpose: to kill or injure human beings. 

Monday, June 23, 2008


After my tranny date on Friday, I had me a hungry hankering for some penis. Yes, I said it - I wanted me some bonafide penis.

And I got it.

I met the man of my dreams - a hot Israeli with a filthy mind and a hot body -  and he was as sweet as cherry pie.  I mean, he even texted me after he sexed me to say he had a good time - and he signed it with xxxooo.  

Oh, romance in the year 2008 on the ultimate island of lost souls: Manhattan.

Sunday, June 22, 2008


What a weekend! Drama with a capital D.

Let me explain:

Friday night I had my date with my tranny man. We went to see “Sex and the City” - and I have to admit Josh (that’s his/her name) looked pretty damn hot waiting out front with his shaved head and tattoos. I swear, I couldn’t tell one iota he was packing a pussy in his panties.

After the movie, Josh walked me home. As we approached my block in the East Village, we discovered a movie being filmed with Julianne Moore – only in Manhattan do you stumble upon a movie star while on a date with a tranny.

At my door, Josh grabbed and kissed me.

At first, I liked his aggressiveness, and I have to admit the kiss was nice. Unfortunately, my smutty instincts took over and I started to run my hand southward to sample the merch.

That’s when it hit me.

Stop – don’t go there my brain screamed.

I guess it was the testosterone injections, because the more I said no, the more aggressive he became. I mean, I was like a school girl swatting his hands away as he groped me on the street. I wanted to yell Jessica Tandy's famous line from Fried Green Tomatoes – “Honey, just how many of those hormones are you taking?”

I mean, I’ve performed just about every perverted sexual act known to mankind on east 12th street, but I wasn’t about to add tranny rape to the list.

As I pushed him away, he asked me what was wrong. I told him I just couldn’t get past the pussy thing. He said that shouldn’t matter if two people find each other attractive. Maybe there is some truth there, but I’m just not that enlightened. I guess I’m old fashioned – I like a man with a penis.

I went upstairs alone.

The next day I received a text message informing me that I was very small minded.

Friday, June 20, 2008


Okay, tonight is the night - my date with my tranny - and I am a bit worried.

Via the internet (Thank God for the internet) I found that the proper term is: Transman.

I can hear it now..."Mother, this is my date...the transman." Sounds like a superhero (ine), doesn't it?

What I don't know is if my transman has a vagina or a makeshift penis; and to be honest, I don't want to find out.

What I don't understand is this: If a woman thinks she was born a man, and goes through hormones etc..why would she be attracted to a gay man? I mean, wouldn't she be attracted to a woman?

Life on the island of Manhattan: Why is it so confusing?

Thursday, June 19, 2008


I was out drinking last night.  

Oh, not that much, but a  few Black Bitches (vodka/Diet Coke) to wet the whistle and loosen the inhibitions.

I wasn't looking for love, but the bartender kept staring at me - he was cute in a "bearish" type of way - you know, tattoos, hairy and beefy.  He wasn't my type, but he kept my glass full and my face smiling with his jokes.

Later, he asked me out - but he had to tell me something:  He was transgendered.  

Transgendered?  I was shocked. The man was butcher than anyone in the neighborhood...well, I guess that wasn't saying much since it was Chelsea.  

Many of my friends are trannies, and I love them all, but a man with a vagina?  I mean, my life is confusing enough.

In the end, I gave him my number - we are going to the movies on Friday.

Monday, June 16, 2008


You know what really pisses me off?  

Women (it's never men) customers at Starbucks that wait 20 minutes in line only to reach the counter without their money in hand.   These bitches make everyone wait while they search their purses for their billfold and then search for that 13 cents so they won't have to break a bill.  On top of this, these stupid women have to repack their purses while everyone is waiting.  

I hate them.

Friday, June 13, 2008


It's official: Madonna's bitchy brother Christopher has written a nasty tell-all book called "Life with my Sister" - detailing his many years as his sister's tag-a-long sidekick. Apparently, the book is filled to the gills with details of lady Madge's saucy shenanigans - and I hear Mrs. Ritchie is none too happy about this.

Well, what did she expect?

I mean, everyone knows that brother and sister were thick as thieves in Madonna's hey-day, but she turned her back on him when she married Guy Ritchie - apparently Guy Ritchie cannot stand swishy queens, so Christopher (as well as most of Madonna's gay friends) had to go.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Don't cross a queen!

I met Christopher several times in the late 90's at uber gay haunt Beige, and I have to say, he was one snotty queen. But then again, if I was Madonna's brother, I'd be one snotty queen, too - hell, I'm already a snotty queen. LOL.

Unfortunately, time has not been kind to Christopher - perhaps he could use a portion of his book money on some "work."

In any event, I just can't wait to read the book - it comes out July 15.

Thursday, June 12, 2008


Okay, we all know that skateboarding is the new Manhattan trend - but do we really need to see middle-aged men with greying sideburns on these things?

I think not.

I mean,  one of these aging hipsters is bound to get a broken hip.

The other night I was scoping celebs at the Waverly Inn when two 40+ men came zipping up on skateboards.  Of course, they were decked out in Prada, but that isn't the point.  Two cute girls behind me both chuckled outloud :  "Grow up!"

I could not have said it better.

Sunday, June 08, 2008


You've gotta see my friend Riftgirl's latest video on YouTube.

Thursday, June 05, 2008


Thank God for George Michael.

His words, wisdom and music are getting me through yet another heartache…I don’t know what it is about 80’s icons, but they always ease my pain. One summer, when I had my heart broken by a cab driver, nothing but Belinda Carlisle could sooth me. And when my husband died from cancer, it was all about Dusty Springfield – I know she is technically a 60’s icon, but she did have a resurgence compliments of the Pet Shop Boys in the 80’s, but I digress.

Well, now it’s George’s turn. His “Listen Without Prejudice” is playing nonstop on my ipod. I mean, I can hear his pain through his feathered hair.

My relationship that never was, is now over – he has left Manhattan to pursue his dreams of stardom. Did he like me? Or was it just convenient sex? I guess I will never know. I keep thinking I should have done more, but I could "woulda, shoulda" myself to death.

Why is love so hard?

Tuesday, June 03, 2008


I saw “Sex and the City” – and I loved it. I mean, what woman or gay man wouldn’t?

Fuck all the mixed and horrible reviews – if you loved the television show, you will love the movie. Granted, the movie isn’t as witty, quick-paced or groundbreaking as the original HBO series, but it is a valentine to all of the fans.

I am not going to give away the plot, but my big gripe with “Sex and the City” is that Sarah Jessica Parker has way too much screen time – and trust me, that big ugly mug isn’t too pretty in close-ups.

I mean, the title should have been “Carrie and the Sex and the City Girls” – very Diana “The Boss” Ross. Granted, Miranda has a good storyline, and Samantha has some of the best lines, but poor Charlotte has nothing to do but shit her pants.

All and all, a good Manhattan movie – but not the best. My favorite is “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”. Holly Golightly was the original Carrie Bradshaw.