Hey you. How have you been? I've been in an alcohol-induced haze for days now. I've been doing gayer things than I've done in forever. First there was the Comeback last week, or was that the weekend Bea Arthur died? Again, it's all a haze. Things are more confusing than ever to remember. One thing I do remember: tonight was Bacon Strip at Re-Bar. Conclusion: drag is dead. No it's alive! No it's actually dead. Okay. Can we agree to disagree? It's half dead. It's a half limp penis. Or something.
Jackie Hell was a highlight tonight, but she was the only one. Old raccoon eyes. I know she was so-so at the Comeback, but when all the actors surrounding you are awful, you tend to stand out. She looked like a walking hot air balloon with teeny tiny legs. She sang "the Eyes of the Beast" (same as at Comeback) with a dude who was painfully elated to be on stage. They did a back and forth and Jackie barked out the lyrics with a sort of ironic detachment that usually drives me batty, but for some reason didn't. "Jacky is a shrewd performer." I distinctly remember telling myself something along these lines. She was the only reason I smiled for approximately five seconds.
The crowd gave some half-hearted hoot and hollars (god, isn't that just the worst?) and I drank 3 rum and cokes just to feel mildly socially motivated. It's hard to socialize when you're being fed terrible acting. Note to drag queens: just because you're dressed like a woman doesn't mean you're funny. Just because you're talking about safe sex doesn't mean you're an activist. Just because you've got huge-ass hair and long curly eyelashes and cone boobs doesn't mean I have to hug you. There is nothing interesting about what you're doing, unless, of course, you're doing something interesting. So, thanks Jackie. You almost saved the night.
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