THE REAL THING

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.

HANES FOR HER

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.

MY MAN

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?

GENUINE GENDER

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.

PISSED OFF

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.

DON'T MESS WITH A QUEEN

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.

THE BROKEN HIPSTER

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.

THE BACHELORETTE HE-SHE

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

IPOD BLUES

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?

THE GIRLS ARE BACK IN TOWN

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.

TIME

Do you know how to tell if you have too much time on your hands?

Watching the entire 2006 Dynasty Reunion on YouTube - that's how.

One of my best friends emailed me today with the news that she spent the evening watching the 2006 Dynasty Reunion show in its entirety on Youtube.

First off, I was amazed that she would admit it.

But after thinking about it, I'd probably do the same thing.

SAVING MONEY

In these times of economic woes, I've found a few stylish ways to cut costs without cutting out life's necessities.

Let me explain:

I love my Starbucks' Soy Lattes - yes, I do. However, I find the $5 daily cost a bit too steep, so I order a small plain coffee in a large cup. Large cup in hand, I mosey on over to the bar and fill the remaining half with soy milk for a makeshift latte.

The savings? $3.10.

Everyone knows I love my Black Bitches - I also love saying it to bartenders - but the price of a vodka/Coke combo can hover around $12 at most lounges. Well, I can't sit home every night, so now I order a draft beer - not only does it "butch" me up, but saves me around $6 per drink.

If anyone else has any stylish money saving tips, please pass them along.

IDOL THOUGHTS

Okay, I admit it – I loved the American Idol finale.

I mean, it was like The Lawrence Welk Show for the new millennium – shiny happy faces singing/slaughtering legendary songs.

Highlights included a fabulous vintage Gladys Knight singing “Midnight Train to Georgia” – that sista can sing. Also loved Miss George Michael – another sista that can sing. I mean, even Simon gave sister George a standing ovation.

Lowlights included poor chubby Donna Summer – her black pantsuit wasn’t doing her any favors. I mean, is she getting fashion tips from Hillary Clinton? And can we talk about leathery Bryan Adams? Poor dried out thing looked liked he hadn’t drank a glass of water since his last hit in the 1980s. Remember Bryan, Botox and Juviderm are your friends.

Finally, as much as I love David Cook, that weird comb-over hair-do has got to go. Face facts sista, you’re balding, so shave the head because you're not fooling anyone.
.

THE SKINNY ON THINGS

Over drinks last night at uber-trendy Beige, my skinny friends and I were discussing a serious topic:

Weight gain in a relationship.

If your partner or wife or husband or whomever puts on extra weight, do you still have to fuck them? I mean, if they're no longer a hottie - and you still are - what do you do? Now, I 'm not talking five extra pounds, I'm talking 20 plus pounds and a serious addiction to channel surfing and deep dish pizzas.

After much debate, we agreed that in Manhattan, you can't afford to let yourself go...and if you do, you have to let that person go.

Sad, but true.

A DOG FIGHT

Thank God Obama pulled up his Ivy Leagued sleeves and jumped in the Republican mud and came out swinging.

After Bush's stupid and insane anti-Obama comments in Israel, Obama - unlike John Kerry - didn't waste a single moment to defend himself.

Good for him - because as we all know, the Republicans play dirty.

BIG BALLS

I couldn't resist.

Let me explain:

I happened to be in the Minneapolis/St. Paul International Airport this week - and I couldn't let the opportunity slip by without a visit to where Republican Senator Larry Craig met his fate. You see, I normally travel via the smaller HHH Terminal, so I've yet to pay a homage to the stall of hypocrisy.

Armed with my Canon Sureshot, I strode into the mensroom. I was surprised there wasn't a guard or anything - and the promised floor to ceiling walls between toilets were no where in sight. I guess you can still play footsie.

As I snapped away, no one paid me the slightest attention - except one man. He approached me outside the bathroom and gave me his email address - "Please," he said. "Send me a few of those pictures - I lack the balls to take them myself."

"What are you going to do with the photos?" I asked.

"I want to send them to my friend John Waters."

How appropriate - I emailed him the photos today.

THE SHOW IS CLOSED

She won big in West Virginia tonight, but big fucking deal. I mean, she's out and she knows it.

I love her quote she gave reporters this week:

"A woman is like a tea bag: You never know how strong she is until she's in hot water."

Well, she must be some strong ass tea.

They say there's no second acts in America, but I have feeling that won't hold true for Hillary Clinton.

A HARD GOODBYE

My fuck buddy is leaving Manhattan.

Okay, he's a little more than a fuck buddy. I mean, it's hard to have great sex with someone - as well as great conversation - for six months and have no emotion. I know he wasn't my boyfriend - he was way too young and way too cute, but it was nice in the lonely wee hours of the morning to pretend he was.

Maybe...just maybe...you don't always get what you want, but you get what you need.

Yes, I'm buying that one.

LAST ONE AT THE PARTY

I hate to say it, because I support Hillary, but I think it's time for her to drop out of the race. The polls suggest she has a stronger chance to beat old daddy McCain in the fall, but I guess the public has spoken.

Let's pray Obama doesn't fuck up.

THE WRONG WAY TO WRIGHT

Here's what I don't get about the Rev. Wright controversy:

He says that white people are attacking the "black" church. I've also heard other prominent blacks report that speeches such as Rev. Wright's are common in "black" churches.

If that is true, what does that say about black Americans? I mean, could you imagine the shit that would fly if such statements were spoken in "white" churches?

I'm sorry, but anti-American and anti-white bullshit shouldn't be spoken in any church.