The Lakes is a decidedly upscale community behind gates in The LV.
I once did drugs there. Or was that Canyon Gate?
There were gates. Whatever.
Well, after I stepped up and drank the Koolaid after my days as a Hillary Girl I decided to do my part and throw a debate watching party.
Bitch please. I'm gay.
I hosted the Biden vs Palin throwdown.
I hosted it at the home of LV legend Stephen Sorrentino and his REALLY HAWT BF, Hot Latin Guy. Don't get me wrong, Stephen is a piece of Eyetalian Salami himself, but when setting the table, never put the shrimp next to the salad.
Just saying, HLBF is hawt!
I stood outside at said gates because the promised volunteers from That One never showed up. No problem, my outfit was cute and I made everyone buy raffle tickets to help the homeless.
But. I stood at the gates and took so much shit from every fake tittied, drunken, repressed second wife The Lakes had to offer.
"Who are you? I can ask because I PAY A LOT OF MONEY TO LIVE HERE!"
Yeah and your husband is fucking someone else.
Maybe me. If you say one more word to me in that TONE.
All through the primaries and election all you ever heard was how That One and his team didn't make mistakes.
As soon as he got elected, That One started showing that even The Holiest of All Holiest is fallible.
First, there's the whole issue of inviting Anti-Semitic Homophobe "Pastor" Rick Warren to give the immolation at the inauguration.
Or some such.
And now. Just in case Hillary Clinton doesn't understand that she is to work whatever corner she is assigned on the stroll, along comes Caroline Kennedy.
You know CK.
She comes from a long line of criminals and rapists.
Did I forget murderers? Oh, well, I guess leaving Mary Jo Kopechne at the bottom of the bay while you went to meet with your people isn't EXACTLY murder.
She also committed the unforgivable sin of turning her back on The Clintons and very publicly supporting That One during the primaries.
Remember the primaries.
That was a period when certain hypocrites from the great state of Chowderheads decided that Superdelegates should vote the will of their people.
Until, of course, the will of the Chowderheads went in favor of Hillary Clinton.
At that point.
No gay fag guys. SUPER DE LA GATES! Not SUP ER MOD ELS!
That one and his band of The Obviously Newly Insane decided that C of the Chowderhead Gangsta Murdering Rapist K's should take over the Senate seat of Hillary Rodham Clinton.
Why don't you have Benedict Arnold take over the Continental Army? Or Bill Richardson, oh wait, fuck that fat hairy "I am Mexican, it's convenient now isn't it?".
18 million people would get Bitch slapped majorous if C to the K was chosen, nay, anointed to replace Hillary.
I put up with that Rick Warren bullshit.
I even put up with Janice Dickenson referring to herself as The First Supermodel.
Janice? Bitch please.
Original Super Coke Head. Super Skank. Super "are you my baby daddy?".
So, let me just say if Miss I forgot to vote, I never gave money to support local Democrats, I really can't be bothered to speak with the press, oh wait, I need to stab Hillary Clinton in the back is chosen to take over the hard won seat of HRC, That One better understand the Tsunami coming is aiming for him.
This weekend I was able to get down to the very cold streets of The LV and pass out the clothes and food that had been donated by a lot of the locals.
Every single person who received help was so polite and grateful that i almost forgot what a bad situation they were in.
It's been crazy cold here in The LV and so many people were huddled up next to each other for warmth that it was just really weird to witness. But, they couldn't have been nicer and they handed anything that they couldn't use to others behind them in line.
Everyone said thank you and shook my hand.
Contrast that with the idiots who trampled a man to death at WalMart and then kept shopping.
I'm jes sayin'.
Next time you're bitching about your situation stop and think how bad it could be. You could be thanking a stranger who gave you a coupla Cup A Noddles and some T-shirts on the street where you live behind a sheet and some cardboard.
I rarely change anything that I have written but I did receive some feedback on the following post that I felt was important and valid.
The post seems to have come off as a reverse racism sort of thing, i.e. "White Gays are the Devil!".
I'm a lot of things but Reverend Faracaca I aint.
My point was really meant to lampoon the mindset of a certain socioeconomic substrata of the Gay community. I think if you are not in that particular group you get what I mean, however, it was a very valid point that it comes off a bit anti-white.
Some of my best friends are white.
Oh come on, how could I resist that one?
Muchos Sorrios if it offended.
Criminy, the things I have to do in the spirit of the Holidays.
Well, before he even became President of the United States, That One threw "the Gays" under the bus.
It seems in a hug of inclusiveness, That One has decided that the most prominent role in his inauguration is to be given to Gay hater "Pastor" Rick Warren.
Warren is on one of those WalMart preachers with the Mega Churches down by your local Cineplex. he preaches the same things that all of those megatypes do.
"Learn from the masses, and then teach them."
"We shall support whatever the enemy opposes and oppose whatever the enemy supports."
"When the enemy advances, withdraw; when he stops, harass; when he tires, strike; when he retreats, pursue."
"Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they will believe it”
"How fortunate for leaders that men do not think.”
“All propaganda has to be popular and has to accommodate itself to the comprehension of the least intelligent of those whom it seeks to reach.”
That might have been Mao and Hitler.
I think a lot of The Gays are in for rude awakening over the next four years. We might actually have a bit of buyers remorse soon.
Especially the Weho/Chelsea crowd.
You see, they most loudly and blindly saw That One as the King of All Kings, Lord of All Lords, Ruler of the new universe in which rich gay guys would sit at the feet of The One and anoint his feet with oil while reaping the benefits of Gay Marriage and a world where they and their store bought Chinese babies (Black boys are SO two years ago) would be welcomed into planned communities with names like BeaverCrest and Inspirada.
Actually Bros, homie took your money and ran straight into the arms of the very same people who helped make Prop 8 the success that is was.
You know Prop 8. ,Waterloo for the Weho Gays, don't you?
Well, That One never expressed any interest in you getting to keep your marriages legal. In fact, That One made it clear he was having none of that from day one.
Problem is that Weho/Chelsea Myopia set in.
Weho/Chelsea Myopia is a condition that doesn't allow it's victim to see past a 4 mile perimeter or in severe cases, past a Jeffrey Sanker sponsored event. In event of a non white, non hot, non conformist, groupthink type of occurrence, the Weho/Chelsea Myopia sufferer shuts down, pouts and then sets up an ad hoc display of pique.
Pique is groveling Maginot Line abandoning, Mickey Rourke is a genius, smelly underarms for, "A Day Without A Gay".
Or some such.
Let's be honest. Personally, a day without a holier than thou "I would never drive an American car, I don't do Asian, I've never been East of West Hollywood Target, he's cute for a black guy, Barney's is having a sale if you've got a black AMEX, my dealer delivers, Chad and I just joined Crunch, I've got some hot Latino coming over", Faggot, sounded sort of like a vacay to me.
But I digress.
Of course there are those apologists of the middle reaches who say That One is just reaching out to the Right Winger who didn't vote for him. You know, the big tent thing.
Guess what Bitches? This is OUR party! WE worked and walked and called for That One! WE are the ones who put down our Hillary signs and joined the cause with the hopes that OUR agenda would move forward. WE suffered through the Right Wingers attacks on us and phony "white McCain worker assaulted by Black Obama supporters BULLSHIT! Yeah US!
Fuck including the Right Wingers at OUR party. They can come visit OUR house later with some Apple Pie and apologies anytime after 20 November. In fact I myself invite them.
Not fucking now.
NOW I can't watch the inauguration with unbridled OBAMAPRIDE. No, all I'm going to be thinking about is "that Muthafucker is about to get up and be given worldwide exposure for his bank, uh, church!" I'm sure millions of TVs throughout the world will be turned off or down or have Ruby red pumps thrown at them at that point.
This was supposed to be OUR day. The day that those of us who endured the constant imbecilic emails and pleas for money and time to sit back and enjoy the fruits of our labors.
Will it be?
This was the time for the Hillary crowd to be able to sit back and think that we did make the right decision in turning our hearts and minds and support over to That One.
He never passes up chance to tell you how much money he makes.
I never miss a chance to tell you that I am hung like a Lipizzaner or whatever the fuck those horses are called. I'm porno star big. Choke on it from Canada huge. Thick as a can of Australian beer gigantic. Blessed by the Gods of Wang ginormous. Swangin' like a member of the Big Pinga bois club major Peenie. Omg, does it come with a carrying case schlong all mighty donkeydick.
Gawdzeera is also one of the most caring and nicest guys you would ever want to be friends with.
So am I.
So are you.
When I ended up at Summerlin Hellspital after an unfortunate incident with seven or eight or how the fuck many, I don't know, it's not important, tumblers of vodka, it was Gawdzeera who rushed to my moms house, picked me up off of the floor and rushed me to ER. This was after I had evidently been quite memorable at his friends house the night before.
He could have left me in the street (which he did) and never talked to me again (which he didn't).
My eternal gratefulness has he.
But he's a prick.
So am I.
So are you.
My other roomie, Clownika, is terribly loud and wears far too much makeup in a very vulgar fashion and never shuts the fuck up.
I wear my clothes 1/2 size too small and talk way too much about me. If your mom is dying I tell you about what it was like to lose my dad. If you got a ticket I tell you about the time Chris (R.I.P. my bitch!) and I got arrested with Kevin and we were in our cell and I realized Chris had eaten the ounce of weed that we had just bought and was trying to choke down the last of the zipper from the ziplock baggie (ok, your ticket story is never going to be as good as that, so, deal with it).
Clownika doesn't have a bad bone in her body.
She loves her little dog. I have no idea what it's name is because I call it Furball. It looks like one of those Tribbles from Star Trek, I try to hate it , but, secretly love it.
Oh damn! Now you know.
Clownika was not offended when I told her to go back in her room for less makeup and more tits before she left for work.
Listen folks, always work with what you got. If you got big boulders, unleash them. Especially if you aren't blessed above the neck.
Clownika always thanks me when I feed her. I can't imagine cooking and not offering some to anyone around me.
Gawdzeera doesn't think twice about it. He's a prick.
So am I.
So are you.
Well, it all came to a head this week.
Oh did it ever.
Clownika is going through hard times. She originally told me that she was a "cocktail waitress" at a "gentleman's' club" down on the wrong end of the strip.
Bitch please. If I know one thing, it's people. There was no way with her, um, looks, and those big ole Exxon tanker titties she was a cocktail waitress.
What am I? Straight? Stupid?
I know. Same thing. I aint either.
So anyways, it seems in the current economic climate, the girls down at the club had started performing certain services and, God bless her heart, Clownika aint that type of "cocktail waitress".
So, after giving her a few lessons on pole dancing (I am an aficionado of the Copacabana school of Pole dancing from my days back in East Hollywood. No, I wasn't a Celia Cruz impersonating stripper! I just like watching the skanks that "perform" at lunchtime work the pole. But, I digress) and teaching her that less was more when it came to makeup (a lesson she refuses to learn) I sent her back into the club to do battle!
Alas, the whores, uh, other "cocktail waitresses" won out. Clownika decided to go legit and found one of those jobs that always turns out to be a scam. I felt sorry for her.
I still do.
Gawdzeera could care less.
You see, Gawdzeera makes good money.
If middle class is what you aspire to.
Gawzeera has reached the summit. As far as he is concerned, if you don't have "your shit together" it's your fault.
Well, Clownika has had some hard times, like so many people (hellooo, me!). The stress has been building.
When the teapot is screaming at you, take it off the stove.
If stress is building up, chant, pray, finger bang yourself raw. Just don't let 'er blow!
I don't know how it happened, but, Clownika lost it. She proceeded to tell Gawzdeera about himself. In the most unflattering terms.
Truly. Unflattering. Terms.
Bitch went off.
Now, you can say what you want to whomever. However, make sure your little red wagon is packed and you and your little Furball have a place to go before you start talking shit.
Hopefully, Gawdzeera will understand that not everyone is doing as well as he is and take a bit of pity on Clownika and not kick her, and her little dog too, to the proverbial handicap accessible curb.
Why do suburbs have no sidewalks? Is it to keep black people from walking in front of your house? Or worse, stopping to admire your P.C. desert landscaping?
Ok, so, today I arranged for the people at the "Almost But Not Quite Important" Film Festival that I am a judge for to meet my liquor hookup. As I waited in the production office, some balding slab of a white guy decided to get all up in my business with the guy I was there to make the introductions to.
"What EXACTLY is she coming here for?" Baldini said to me in a "tone". "We're really only interested in cash sponsors at this point", he announced without looking up from his, I'm sure, "Teenage Asian Pussy Bangs Galore!" website on his laptop.
Let's understand something.
You, nor your mother, nor anyone that you know, is to ever speak to DEREK LA VAUGN WASHINGTON (yeah, I'm WAY black) in a "tone".
I will make a bitch cry and call his mother for speaking to me in a "tone". If you want to find out how it feels to have your dick shrink back up into your mommies uterus as you lay in a fetal position on the floor whimpering, SPEAK TO ME IN A "TONE".
Rather than go all "Black Gurl" on him (if you ever see my head start to subtly vibrate, LEAVE THE AREA! STAT!) I simply picked up my cellie and began texting my client to abort the mission. I then informed the office that my work there was done. I headed towards the door, which may have closed sharply.
Out side I found my client and informed her of the events. She looked at me and said, "it's not like they are CineVegas. Let's get out of the snow". She turned around, got her designer self into her BMW and took off.
No fuss. No muss. Just done and over.
I called the office and informed them that I felt Baldini had behaved in a rather boorish fashion and while I would still worked with them, I was NEVER TO BE TALKED TO IN A "TONE" AGAIN.
No fuss. No muss. Just done and over.
What is the point of this long (You don't like it? Go read Perez Hilton, "Lindsay Lohan walked through the Standard today with her BFF SaMANtha..." Bore.) post is thus:
Always remember that everybody got their something.
Remember to be nice to others, even when you're not feeling it.
Always mind your manners.
NEVER SPEAK TO DEREK LA VAUGHN WASHINGTON IN A "TONE"!
Written and Composed by Siedah Garrett and Glen Ballard.
I'm Gonna Make A Change, For Once In My Life It's Gonna Feel Real Good, Gonna Make A Difference Gonna Make It Right . . .
As I, Turn Up The Collar On My Favourite Winter Coat This Wind Is Blowin' My Mind I See The Kids In The Street, Without Enough To Eat Who Am I, To Be Blind? Pretending Not To See Their Needs A Summer's Disregard, A Broken Bottle Top And A One Man's Soul They Follow Each Other On The Wind Ya' Know 'Cause They Got Nowhere To Go That's Why Now I Want You To Know
I'm Starting With The Man In The Mirror I'm Asking Him To Change His Ways And No Message Could Have Been Any Clearer If You Wanna Make The World A Better Place (If You Wanna Make The World A Better Place) Take A Look At Yourself, And Then Make A Change (Take A Look At Yourself, And Then Make A Change) (Na Na Na, Na Na Na, Na Na, Na Nah)
I've Been A Victim Of A Selfish Kind Of Love It's Time That I Realize That There Are Some With No Home, Not A Nickel To Loan Could It Be Really Me, Pretending That They're Not Alone?
A Willow Deeply Scarred, Somebody's Broken Heart And A Washed-Out Dream (Washed-Out Dream) They Follow The Pattern Of The Wind, Ya' See Cause They Got No Place To Be That's Why I'm Starting With Me (Starting With Me!)
I'm Starting With The Man In The Mirror (Ooh!) I'm Asking Him To Change His Ways (Ooh!) And No Message Could Have Been Any Clearer If You Wanna Make The World A Better Place (If You Wanna Make The World A Better Place) Take A Look At Yourself And Then Make A Change (Take A Look At Yourself And Then Make A Change)
I'm Starting With The Man In The Mirror (Ooh!) I'm Asking Him To Change His Ways (Change His Ways-Ooh!) And No Message Could've Been Any Clearer If You Wanna Make The World A Better Place (If You Wanna Make The World A Better Place) Take A Look At Yourself And Then Make That . . . (Take A Look At Yourself And Then Make That . . .) Change!
I'm Starting With The Man In The Mirror, (Man In The Mirror-Oh Yeah!) I'm Asking Him To Change His Ways (Better Change!) No Message Could Have Been Any Clearer (If You Wanna Make The World A Better Place) (Take A Look At Yourself And Then Make The Change) (You Gotta Get It Right, While You Got The Time) ('Cause When You Close Your Heart) You Can't Close Your . . .Your Mind! (Then You Close Your . . . Mind!) That Man, That Man, That Man, That Man With That Man In The Mirror (Man In The Mirror, Oh Yeah!) That Man, That Man, That Man I'm Asking Him To Change His Ways (Better Change!) You Know . . .That Man No Message Could Have Been Any Clearer If You Wanna Make The World A Better Place (If You Wanna Make The World A Better Place) Take A Look At Yourself And Then Make A Change (Take A Look At Yourself And Then Make A Change) Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Na Na Na, Na Na Na, Na Na, Na Nah (Oh Yeah!) Gonna Feel Real Good Now! Yeah Yeah! Yeah Yeah! Yeah Yeah! Na Na Na, Na Na Na, Na Na, Na Nah (Ooooh . . .) Oh No, No No . . . I'm Gonna Make A Change It's Gonna Feel Real Good! Come On! (Change . . .) Just Lift Yourself You Know You've Got To Stop It. Yourself! (Yeah!-Make That Change!) I've Got To Make That Change, Today! Hoo! (Man In The Mirror) You Got To You Got To Not Let Yourself . . . Brother . . . Hoo! (Yeah!-Make That Change!) You Know-I've Got To Get That Man, That Man . . . (Man In The Mirror) You've Got To You've Got To Move! Come On! Come On! You Got To . . . Stand Up! Stand Up! Stand Up! (Yeah-Make That Change) Stand Up And Lift Yourself, Now! (Man In The Mirror) Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Aaow! (Yeah-Make That Change) Gonna Make That Change . . . Come On! (Man In The Mirror) You Know It! You Know It! You Know It! You Know . . . (Change . . .) Make That Change.
So, last night I googled myself (Oh please, if you know me you are not hardly surprised that I would be up at 2am doing that) and my name popped up in a lot of places. Who knew?
I realized what an amazing year it has been. I started the year laying on my mom's couch begging God to kill me because my life had finally caught up with me and I had suffered a stroke and gotten "it". Thank God Angie reminded me that without her Uncle Saladhead my niece, Simone, wouldn't have anyone to explain why jewelry only came in Blue Boxes and Kenneth Cole is not a real designer (Honey, if you can get it at the Meadows mall, it aint couture). So, I let God off the hook and went on.
Somehow, I met the most amazing people, from health care workers to people I met through a mutual love of politics and our fantastic country and a bunch of gay guys who disproved the notion that all 'mo's are bitches. Oh yeah, it turned out that lesbians like me! Cool! I also met a great group of seniors who answered the call when I decided that I had to try to make it Denver to support Hillary Clinton. They never let me give up and only a few tried to kill me when I switched over to Obama after the roll call. Thank Gawd those electric scooters only do about 5mph!
Oh yeah, WE ELECTED A PRESIDENT!
Through all of this I have started to become known for helping organize and publicize all sorts of events and businesses. I have been honored to have been asked by two ladies to read and write blurbs for their books (oh, I also started a little blog , www.dereksbigfatdemocraticadventure.blogspot.com) and have worked with and served on the boards of local organizations filled with the most incredible people who make everyday about getting up at 630am (well, that and the fact that I have to pee, I'm getting old) and starting another busy day.
I am (I hate people who talk like this. And Vegetarians) truly blessed!
Ok, the point.
Not everybody is so lucky to have someone care about them. I have so many people that care about me that I feel I have to share you with the people who aren't so lucky.
So, I'm asking all of you to go into your closet and find the stuff that you don't need or will never fit into again ( Be brave, even Oprah knows Calvin Klein and her aint gonna be friends for a minute). On Sunday 21 December I am going to go down to the places here in Las Vegas where people are living in tents and behind dumpsters and hand out as many items of clothes and anything else that we ( Oh yeah, I am not writing this to you so you can have warm fuzzies, you're helping) can spare and personally hand them to people.
Why? Because I'm good now. If my life doesn't continue upwards, it's my bad. I have the whole world open to me and a beautiful future ahead. I have love of family and friends. I have people from online who are my Internet buddies. My phone doesn't stop ringing with invitations, gossip, laughs, tears and chances to get involved in even more. I'm set.
It's time I got on the C.A.S.E and started CARING ABOUT SOMEONE ELSE.
HERE'S WHAT I WANT FROM YOU:
ANY SPARE CLOTHES THAT YOU HAVE. Vegas gets hella cold in the winter. Even if you just have light clothes people can layer.
SOCKS AND UNDERWEAR! Think about it.
BELTS Again, think about it. If you're homeless accessories aren't exactly high on your list, but, you need to keep your pants up (would someone tell that to these young boys who think me looking at their drawers is stylish?!? I'm jes sayin').
FOOD Please, only food that's dehydrated or comes in a pop top can. Food that doesn't need to be cooked. If you're homeless, you aint got no stove, think!
WHAT I DON'T WANT
If you don't have the time to go through your closet or cupboard then please think about what you would need on the streets.
DRY TOOTHPASTE AND BRUSHES SANITARY PRODUCTS ie TAMPONS, DEODORANT, ETC..
You get the drift.
I hope we have too much. At that point we can go to local churches and places where people go for help. If you have any suggestions, please let me know. Only one stipulation; I will not have anything to do with any organization that discriminates or makes me people sit through a seminar, sermon or talking to about their lifestyle and choices. That stuff is up to them and THEIR god.
If you know personally of a family, or, you need help, let me know.
Ok, folks, let's get on the C.A.S.E.!
Btw, if you get this and you're not in Vegas you can forward this on, put it on your Facebook/Myspace/Church Bulletin/Company newsletter in your area and start your own local version of C.A.S.E. it's my idea but it belongs to everybody!
BE THANKFUL FOR WHAT YOU HAVE AND DON'T GIVE AN EF ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T HAVE
To give you an idea of how far, I have to change into a white guy when I cross Martin Luther King blvd.
Culturally speaking, I have been hanging out at the local 99c store to look at the crazy Lithuanian checkout ladies afro hive. It is bizarre! It's a standard beehive, yet, it's somehow coarse and stiff like one of those animal bushes at Disneyland. It hasn't moved since she left Lithuania City or wherever the hell those people are from.
To top it off, I live about two blocks from, I swear 'fo God, a pig farm!
Yeah I know, ashes to ashes. Eventually I would return to my ancestors.
Now don't get me wrong. Bitch loves a pig.
In that delish sweet and sour sauce from Chinese delis in L.A..
Hell, I love Noelle Sugabaker from Designing Women and I was quite fond of Arnold the Pig from Greenacres. I don't really care for Rosie O'Donnell though.
Do I have to like her? I mean she's fat. I'm fat. She's loud. I am loud in a quiet, "I'm wearing Prada panties under my Levis" sort of way. She's gay. I have been known to take down a zipper in my time.
I just don't like her. No. Not at all.
I bet she stinks.
The pig farm STINKS!
I'm constantly checking my self to see if possibly I've had a "moment".
Oh please, everyone has had one of those farts that wasn't. Don't go all Jaqueline Bouvier on me.
Anyway, the worse thing about living here is that there is no weed! No 420! No trees to burn! No "guy"! No buddage!
I didn't really care until I was on Shoutcast and was jumping around the internets radio stations and found a category called DUBSTEP.
Ok, imagine you just got the best stickybud ever and your mom is gone to the Indian Casino for the weekend. After the first 6 or 7 bongloads and three packs of Twinkies (Bitch, if you're in Vegas you have to go Mermaids on Freemont St and get the Fried Twinkies! Trust!) everything gets real slow. You know that feeling when you're in a dream and no matter how fast you run you just can't get past Molasses?
It's stickybud on the dancefloor! Music for Trustafarians. You wanna dance , but, fuck it. The beats are sent through the lounge of the coolest hotel you've never been to and end up in the stoner disco that you can't get into.
And neither can I!
I live in fucking Dronehenge! North! El Rancho De La Puerco Muerte!
Where's my "guy"? My stickybud? My trees to burn? Will it ever be 4:20 again?
Sometimes when I'm a little down or the weather is dreary (my fave) I turn on the internets and tune in to some station that I have never listened to before and am reminded of some gems and jams that I had forgotten about.
This is one of those. Download it and have it at your beck and call when you need it.
Would you like to swing on a star Carry moonbeams home in a jar And be better off than you are Or would you rather be a mule?
A mule is an animal with long funny ears Kicks up at anything he hears His back is brawny and his brain is weak He's just plain stupid with a stubborn streak And by the way, if you hate to go to school You may grow up to be a mule
Or would you like to swing on a star Carry moonbeams home in a jar And be better off than you are Or would you rather be a pig?
A pig is an animal with dirt on his face His shoes are a terrible disgrace He ain't got no manners when he eats his food He's fat and lazy and extremely rude But if you don't care a feather or a fig You may grow up to be a pig
Or would you like to swing on a star Carry moonbeams home in a jar And be better off than you are Or would you rather be a fish?
A fish won't do anything, but swim in a brook He can't write his name or read a book And to fool the people is his only thought And though he's slippery, he still gets caught But then if that sort of life is what you wish You may grow up to be a fish
And all the monkeys aren't in the zoo Every day you meet quite a few So you see it's all up to you You can be better than you are You could be swingin' on a star
I am also one of the most harmless people on earth.
Unless I'm dating/fucking you.
Ok, I broke up with my latest BF by text.
It is the oughts and most of our communication was by text. I didn't even think about it when I broke up with him.
It seemed natural.
I guess I probably should've have texted him first with the news. I'm such a good guy that I texted his best friend in Denver and told her first.
I figured he would need a friend to help him through his loss.
You know. Me.
Turns out that dyke got on the cellie and called him before I had a chance to text him!
I needed a Super Big Gulp Coke and didn't want to do it while I was driving.
Traffic. Sweetie. Traffic. What if I had killed a stripper at Antelope and Charleston? That would look cute on channel 8.
"This is Maria Lupe Cardinal Lopez Garcia Mendoza Jackson at the scene of a terrible tragedy. A 21 year old (it's my blog) Las Vegas man ran over a Las Vegas entertainer, Kristi Kumho (it's a Korean name. Perv.) at the corner of Antelope and Charleston in the almost but not quite Summerlin district. The suspect, Las Vegas Style Guy, Derek Washington, was apparently seen texting just prior to the death of Kumho (Tee. Hee.). A Super Big Gulp Coke can be seen here next to the blood and silicone stained crosswalk. Back to you Rikki Cheese ( I swear that's her name! Really.)".
You see. I care. Really.
So, I often smoked a lot of pot from approx. 1985 to well, now. I might not be the best at names. But. I am nice.
So I walk into Frankie's Tiki Room, the place I had been waiting all of my life for, ok, three days, and I start my usual routine.
1/ Go to the bathroom and look at myself.
2/ Take a picture of myself in said bathroom.
3/ Exit bathroom and pick up a drink one The Bitchez has already procured.
4/ Survey the room.
5/ Whip out my digital and begin taking pictures.
Simple, yet tres effective.
Tres is Jerry Lewis loving crunchy bread eater for "just smile bitch".
WELL. At the grand opening of Frankie's Tiki Room I saw a veritable multitude of picture subjects. It was like Bettie Page and the Blasters had a Caboodle of hip kids!
RIP BETTY! YOU BAD BITCH!
So I sees me a table of hottie ladies with their Jungle Red nail polish and lips and ask if I can Take their pic.
Who says no?
So I did.
"Let me see that!", shrieked some bitched out younger version of Joan Crawford in Mildred Pierce.
"Hold on , Lindsay Lohan", I humorously decried.
Humour was not on this cocktail cunts mind. Oh no. Not even.
So, "what's your damage Heather?" gets all turned about. "Why did you call me Lindsay Lohan!?!" she bellowed as she pouted.
"I'm sorry" I said. "I was just funnin' you".
"That shits not fucking funny! Go away asshole!" Faux Bettie screamed.
Such a pretty faux authentic haircut. Such a filthy little "I would suck smegma cock all day if the foreskin wouldn't get scared of me and close over the dickhead" mouth.
Well, after backing away from the jaws of death I sipped lovingly on the best cocktail I had had in years! Yes!Oh my Kathi Lee Gifford! It was Ambrosia! Ok, it was a Mai Tai, but, the best Mai Tai I had tasted since my days as a contract player at RKO!
Or some such.
And The Bitchez liked it too! They had never been in a Tiki Room before! Except for the newest member of The Bitchez, Throgmorton , whom we adopted on the spot.
More about Throgmorton in a later post.
And the lovely Princess Anne was there too! I had to leave early (my sinus' can not handle a whole lot of smoke. There was a whole lot of smoke.)but, evidently Her Highness had an issue with her drink that made the tabs the next day. But, nonetheless, Frankie's Tiki Room lived up to the hype (mine).
And lessons were learned.
Breaking up with your BF by text might be considered a little tacky by some oldafarians.
Super Big Gulps and silicone don't mix.
No matter how nice you are, someone will just not see it.
How does one go from serving up AssJuice in the Las Vegas gayttho affectionately known as "the FruitLoop" to mixing up one mean Mai Tai in the grooviest new Tiki Bar just outside of downtown Vegas?
And why on earth is Las Vegas just now getting the world's first 24/7 Tiki Bar?
Who gives a fuck?
The point is that the King of Ass Juice is now the Big Kahuna of Las Vegas nightlife.
P Moss has been a fixture (slightly tilted, off center, yet, completely fixtured) in Las Vegas since the dark ages.
Ok, it was the nineties but if you were here then you know that fire had only just been invented.
I remember that first time I went into the Double Down saloon. Well, remember is a relative term.
My parents, Babs and Pere had moved here to Dronehenge in the days when Desert Shores and Summerlin were just big holes in le ground.
That's French for, I was drunk like a muthafucker.
I had followed my best chance at a free couch and a convertible after a particularly interesting period in the Beverly. Hills that is.
Ok, it was West Covina. Who's telling this fable? Aesop? I thought not.
I had staggered out of one of Vegas' really bad dudes with wigs bars (Gypsy or some such). So, there I was lamenting the fact that I hadn't seen a decent guy in weeks (Don't cry for me Silverlake, the truth is I never left you) when I see one more bar at the very end of the parking lot that passed as the Las Vegas version of boystown.
As I walked in, the smell of dank , skanky fur burger mixed with the twangy sounds of one of my fave bands....
"I'm a teenage tiger and a Goo Goo Muck...."
As I fought back the taste of vomit in my nose I knew that I had found a home.
I staggered up to the bar and thought it rather funny to order an "AssJuice".
I lost a tooth that night. Or was that bowling at the Orleans?
I do know that I saw (or felt) the sun rise sometime after that. Hours? Weeks? Months?
I felt the sun rise again many years later as I was driving in my little Lesbianesque Daewoo StyleWagon down a stretch of Charleston blvd that you only stop at to...well, actually, it's a stretch you never stop at.
Then heavens to Murgatroyd! Eureka! Keely Smith and Merle Oberon! There it was. The sign announcing:
FRANKIE'S TIKI ROOM OPENING DECEMBER 4TH
Well, opening dates, and expiration dates on milk for that matter, just get in my way. So, I flipped a uterus and flew into the unopened Tiki Room.
What a temple of alchoholic revelry lay before me! Yes Lord Jesus, I am home.
From the hand carved Tiki sculptures to the dim lighting and the booths covered in grass mats I knew that my 80 year old retro self had found my new clubhouse! I sauntered in only to be met by a bespectacled giant who informed me , "we're not open yet!" .
Really? I guess the construction dust and hot worker guy I had missed.
Well, before the giant threw me onto the Rebel parking lot next door I soaked in my soon to be Tiki Paradise. It turns out I was in the presence of his munificence.....
King of AssJuice!
Angels sang and clouds parted as the celestial lights shone upon his beatific face. I got his business card to ask for an interview and ran to the Style Wagon and threw up slightly in homage to my youth.
Q:How did you go from AssJuice in the FruitLoop to Mai Tais and fertility sculptures at Frankie's Tiki Room?
A:I just wanted to. This town has sorely needed a Tiki Bar and the time was right. We had a couple of different ideas but decided the the space was too small for our first choice.
(Oh yeah, you can bet when the next concept pops off The Vegas Style Guy will be there with my sippycup on!)
You know, Tiki is a big part of 50's and 60's American pop culture. I didn't want to do some modern version of one. None of that corporate bullshit! I wanted an authentic Tiki Bar so I went to the top Tiki carvers I could find. Of course they didn't trust that I was going to do it faithfully. They thought I was just going to do another Trader Vics type of thing. Fake. They changed their minds after a nice down payment check was written.
(I'm including the link to the FRANKIE'S TIKI ROOM website so that you can learn more about these amazing artists. After all, I aint got time to tell you everything, work bitches!)
Q:You haven't exactly put yourself in a place that will cause a district or scene to spring up was that intentional?
A:People thought the same thing about the Double Down and to me that was a no brainer. I mean it was 60seconds from the airport (I know I like some AssJuice on my way to the Southwest Terminal, jes sayin'-TVSG) and 5Minutes from the strip. Frankie's is the same thing, a no brainer. It's 5 minutes from downtown and in a location that doesn't offer any "get to" shit. None of the hassles of the strip are involved in going out. And when the whole Union development is done this is going to be the area to be in.
Q:What's the biggest change you've seen in Las Vegas since you first opened the Double Down?
A:I'm not a club guy so I can't even tell you. I just see the shiny ads with the Big Tit girls and I'm not interested.
HAL-LUH-LOO MY BROTHER! AT THIS POINT WE STOPPED FOR DRINKS. OH, DID I MENTION LAS VEGAS DENIZEN EXTRA ORDINAIRE PRINCESS ANNE OF THE FLYING VAGINAS HAD JOINED US FOR A BEARDED CLAM?
DRINKS WERE YUMMY!
THAT'S FRANCAISE FOR "FUCK, IT'S 2PM!"
BACK TO WORK
Q:Are you afraid of Frankie's becoming a hipster hell like so many bars in Silverlake (L.A.)?
A:I'm not worried about it at all. This is the type of place that you see a pornstar next to a plumber. Everybody gets treated the same. The bottom line is that this is a bar. If I lose that vision I'll hear about it. If I lose that then it's over. There won't be any bullshit VIP tables or bottle service. I hate that shit.
AT THAT MOMENT A GUY WHO LOOKS LIKE HE JUST GOT OFF OF A CONSTRUCTION SITE WALKS IN AND SETS HIMSELF UP AT THE BAR.
Q:I noticed an amazing mix of people at Frankie's opening night. Were you surprised by the mix?
A:I knew exactly the kind of mix I was going to get. It's the Double Down but better dressed. And behaved. I don't care if you're broke, rich or whatever, everybody should be able to come here and enjoy themselves.
Q:Double Down is known for it's raucous live performances. Frankie's is a much smaller place. Anything special planned?
A:No. No live music or performances. Frankie's is just a place with a relaxing vibe, maybe I'll put a DJ in the bathroom occasionally. Frankie's needs to be what it is.
Q:Who the hell is Frankie and why this place instead of something new?
A:Who knows! The former owner had the place for 27yrs and had no clear story. Maybe I'll make something up. I'll create an Urban Legend! Las Vegas loses history everyday, it's important that I pay respect to the past. If I had just come in and bulldozed the place it would have just alienated the type of people that I want to attract. You know, everybody from regulars who are happy for the upgrade and new folks who are grateful to be able to pay an homage to the past.
Q:You've grown up with the scene here in The LV, is this your grown up playhouse.
A:Yeah, I opened Double Down on 02 December 1992! This is kinda for grownups. The Double Down grew more organically than this place, so, I still go there to relax. I've put so much work into Frankie's that this is more like being at work for me. You know, a new generation has discovered Double Down and a lot of the original crowd is coming here now, but, both crowds are welcome and happy here.
Q:Do you have a life outside of your bars?
A:I'm working on it, I've been working 7 days a week for a long time. I'm taking a break in January
Q:What's your all time favorite bar?
A:Double Down without a doubt. When I go out in any city nothing compares. Not even our New York City bar. When I go out I either want the fanciest place in town or the most extreme dive and nothing compares to Double Down on the dive end.
TEN QUESTIONS FOR P MOSS
Q:If you had to be stranded on a desert island with the following what would they be:
A:Princess Anne's' Flaming Vagina
UH, OK, BUT, NOW LET'S DO THE QUESTIONS.
BAND: The Holograms, they're Asian All girl band from L.A., they sing about Ass Fucking! One of my alltime favorite bands!
DRINK: Vodka Tonic
BARTENDER: Backdoor Becca at the Double Down in New York.
40's MOVIES STAR: Laurence Tierney.
GARNISH: Pussy or the cream corn in the AssJuice at Double Down.
PIECE OF JEWELRY: My silver Tiki ring from The Tiki Gods. It leaves a smiling Tiki imprint on a face.
45 rpm RECORD: My Boy Lollipop by Millie Smalls.
BOOK: Anything by Jim Thompson.
GOLDEN GIRL: Huh? PASS!
MOVIE MONSTER: Godzilla.
When you first see P Moss you know he's either a huge nerd,The Dealer, a total asshole OR the coolest guy in the fuckin' room.
I started this blog because of my utter devotion to Hillary Clinton.
Well, I was summoned to Denver to meet her "people". Upon taking one look at me they knew there was no way I was going to be the one who introduced her at the Convention. You see, three of us were up for the gig.
They chose some 21 yr old white Mormon twink of a boy.
In Hillary's world they wanted to make sure that they didn't look abnormal to America.
I, with my curly hair, in between skin color and indeterminate racial features just didn't look like America to them.The beat down Guccis didn't help.
Lose primaries much?
I'm just asking.
Recently the "leaders" of the gay community failed miserably in their efforts to stop Prop 8 from passing.
I could have told them that Negroes wasn't voting for fags to get married.
But. They didn't ask me.
Lose initiative battles much?
We have so many "leaders" these days. Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson, etc., are "leaders".
Or so the white mainstream media tell us so.
Gloria Steinam and Bella Abzug? Leaders. And one of them is dead.
Billy Jean King and Ellen? Leaders. No offense, but Ellen is a talk show host.
Well, our "leaders" from the temple at Gay Hq aka the LGBT Center of Los Angeles (ok, which is HQ now? L.A. or SF? Am I to bow to the south or to the north. Actually while I'm bowing they can both lick my flabby yellow butt cheeks) decided to have a "virtual townhall" the other nite.
OOOOOHHHHHHH how 2006 1/2 of you.
Ok, these boring old twats left their mid-century homes just long enough to run down to H-Wood and hold a virtual meeting that left out MAC users.
I think MAC users are also vegetarians but even I wouldn't have left them out of the meeting.
These pensioners didn't stop to think about all the online moaning they would do?
Of course, they also didn't ask me about the whole "black thing" either.
That's French for Idiot Fucks.
We had our little rally here in The LV. Quite a nice turnout, by the by. It was totally grassroots led by our own Candace Nichols at the Las Vegas LGBT Center. She pulled it off in 3 days with NO money and managed to get over 1500 people to come out on a Saturday afternoon in a town with NO West Hollywood/Chelsea/The Castro/Boystown, etc., AND made the national news when funny lady Wanda Sykes chose the moment to get up on stage and publicly "out" herself!
Well, the rally planned by our "leaders" downtown got about 40 people.
I'm just sayin'.
Then our local rag , CityLife, took her to task for not following the "leaders" directives as if she/we somehow undermined the "leaders" efforts.
While you're choking on mi pinga, cry.
I think if we have learned one thing from the No on 8 debacle and from President elect Obama, it is this, the times they a changin'. We no longer need to be told what to do from some big white temple (pun the fuck intended) on high.
To paraphrase two songs: "We're taking it to the streets" and "The revolution will be televised"!
Mon Cheri (that's "An entire country can't find a can of Ban?" for "y'all), is there nothing better than a bottle of Andre '07 with your powdered eggs?
Of course not.
Well, Gigantor had invited me to a drunken, uh, brunch and I graciously accepted.
Have you seen my fat ass? If you had you would know that I don't a miss meal.
Or a short Mexican boy.
But I digress.
After Gigantor and I had helped a blind woman find her friends (Ok. Wait. This chick was wandering around the Hilton not knowing where she was, all Audrey Hepburn in "Wait Until Dark". When we finally found her friends they were all at the Star Trek show! Blind Trekkies. I guess that Levar Burton is a God to them. Power Rangers say go!)we met up with "the Other AJ".
Now, up until this point I really didn't know "The Other AJ". Poor bitch had gotten that moniker because Gigantor had been telling me about his friend AJ. Well, the night I finally met him there was another AJ there whom Gigantor referred to as "Hot AJ".
It stuck. One was "hot AJ" the other was "the Other AJ".
Well, it's all rather ironic because I had heard "the Other AJ" was this "Hot Indian Guy" AJ.
I actually was rather tired of hearing about this "hot Indian guy" WAY before I met him. No, I was already hating him. The way I saw it, NO ONE was allowed to be anointed as the "hot" anything until I had perused the goods. AND he was being invited to things before he had kissed the ring.
"Who is this hot Indian guy you speak of? What village is he from? Why hath he not cometh and paid Homage to the ruler of this village? MY VILLAGE!"
Whew, I needed to get that said. God, I love blogging.
So, of course being a fan of the sub continent I was all revved up to see this Pasha from afar.
Imagine my surprise and disappointment when I finally get a looksee and he's no dark, silken haired Bollywood star!
I always hear people say that Vegas is such a hard place to live in because there's no real people here.
I myself tried to live here in '98.
When I was twelve.
Pretty quickly I took the first 20 mule team Borax the fuck out out of here. This town was Podunk.
I actually went back to Medfly (West Covina, Cali) rather than stay here and rot waiting for something, nay, anything, to happen.
Vegas in the late 90's was Tres Gauche.
That's Stinky Cheese Eater for, "that's not a drag queen, that's a dude with a wig."
And I couldn't find anyone who wanted to.
The clincher was when I went to work at my gig asst managing at Macy's (I was the Calvin Klein specialist. He's a racist fuck. How do you manage season after season and have NO black models in your runway shows? Fuck him and that pedophile Bruce Weber who did a book on Brazil and only managed to find white people. Yo! Chester the Molester! The boats stopped there on their way to New Orleans. Actually, a whole lot of Black people got off there. But, I digress.).
What the fuck was I on about?
There was this cool straight dude named Rob who was my favorite guy. He was there when I knocked out my teeth bowling.
Whole other blog post.
Who knew there was a game where you down a drink every time you get to throw that red ball?
I went to steal the shoes. I didn't 'cause I wore my Guccis.
So (hang on, I'm getting there), I went to work and Rob was gone.
Turns out in Vegas that happens all the time. No one comes here because they choose to.
People end up in Vegas.
First runner up in the Miss Dayton Pageant?
32 years old and still third chorus boy on the left in the West Covina Playhouse run of Evita?
Husband wondering where his best friend and his Buick are?
My parents chose to live here during the great California real estate boom of the late 8Os's. They were the first wave of people who actually chose this place. It could have been worse.
It could have been Bellingham.
That's somewhere else.
Well, I ended up here after a year of sitting in the front row at L.A. Fashion Week, being nominated for an award for my TV producing, celebrity styling (she was married to a midget and fucked a world famous pole, you figure it out)and a really nasty nervous breakdown followed by a series of car crashes, evictions, drugs sex and general malaise.
That's foul smelling whores along the Seine for JAY - DED!
After two years of begging God to kill me rather than manning up and realizing that 54 T-cells didn't have to be the end of the world, I actually found some friends.
Not "happy hour cocktail girlfriend" friends.
Everyday I am going to tell the story of how each came into my life in Vegas and how they all became......
The "Big 3" US automakers are in serious trouble and now asking for a bailout.
Just like the bloodsucker's on Wall St got.
You know them, they just got back from some sun drenched spot via their(oops, it's your now) Gulfstream G5.
Or is G6?
The Republicans are lining up and shouting , "No Bailout for Detroit! This is all the fault of the greedy union workers and their high salaries and crazy benefits!"
High salaries as opposed to the, oh, I don't know, maybe the ass hats who ran AIG into the ground?
Crazy benefits like any Congressman in this country gets?
Why do I get the feeling that the right wingers are drooling at this as a chance to not bust, but kill, the unions?
I see a lot of white collar angst here at regular Joes who didn't go to college , and yet, make more money than some middle management paper pusher "analyst" who's never really worked a day in his life. Who has no idea what it's like to sweat and stand all day on sore feet. Who can't comprehend that some people don't go to Vail for a week long "seminar".
"Some people" work hard at honest jobs actually producing a tangible product that you can touch. At the end of the week they take their paycheck, go down to Joe the Butcher's shop and buy some steaks, pick up the wife and kids, pack up the SUV from the Chevy dealer down by the highway and hit the lake with a quick stop down at the propane place to buy fuel to grill that steak.
I watch the analysts on Fox and they are gleeful at the thought of the great unwashed, uneducated getting their just desserts. They think it's a good idea for union folk to be without good health care and retirement benefits.
Guess what? People without jobs don't end up as Wal Mart greeters. They end up on Welfare and Medicaid.
Which the great college boy class will pay for.
Furthermore, the union thing is not what is killing the big 3. It's the one thing every other country we compete against has that we don't.
Universal Health Care. The big 3 are at a total disadvantage because our country can throw trillions at Wall st and Main st in Iraq but not billions for all Americans to have health care. Japan, Korea, etc supply this basic right.
Of course, our defense complex (Haliburton anyone?) keeps those countries from spending billions every year by paying for their defense when ,to be honest, them going back to their warring ways would probably be the best thing for our economy (see WW2).
I'm being facetious but dig my point.
I also see the repugs playing a dangerous and cynical game. They want to force millions of "untrained" and therefore "uneducated" union (i.e Democratic) workers into the streets and onto breadlines while living in tent Hoovervilles which will saddle Obama with a huge image crisis.
Somehow, they think this will lead to victory two years from now in the next set of elections.
The opening of the Declaration of Independence written by Thomas Jefferson in 1776, states as follows: “ We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.
WHAT IS EQUALITY?
WELL, ACCORDING TO WEBSTER'S DICTIONARY THE FOLLOWING IS THE DEFINITION OF "EQUAL"
1 : the quality or state of being equal: like in quality, nature, or status c: like for each member of a group, class, or society
WHEN I AM ASKED WHY WE ARE HERE TODAY, MY FIRST REACTION IS TO EXPLAIN WHAT WE ARE NOT HERE FOR TODAY.
HATE IS NOT SOMETHING WE CAME HERE TO EXPRESS.
WE DON'T HAVE TIME TO HATE.
WE DON'T HAVE THE NEED TO HATE.
WE DON'T HAVE THE ENERGY TO HATE.
REVENGE IS NOT SOMETHING WE CAME HERE TODAY TO DEMAND.
REVENGE IS NOT ON OUR AGENDA.
WE DON'T HAVE THE NEED FOR REVENGE.
REVENGE IS A DISH BEST UNEATEN.
SO, WHAT ARE WE HERE FOR?
LOVE IS A CONCEPT THAT IS AS OLD AS ADAM AND EVE.
LOVE IS A CONCEPT THAT HAS BEEN AROUND SINCE DAVID AND JONATHAN 1 SAMUEL 18.
LOVE IS A CONCEPT THAT HAS BEEN AROUND SINCE RUTH AND NAOMI RUTH 1.
IN CASE YOU'RE NOT AWARE, THOSE LAST TWO LOVING AND COMMITTED COUPLES HAD THEIR STORY TOLD IN A LITTLE BOOK CALLED, THE BIBLE.
YOU SEE, WE HAVE ALWAYS BEEN AROUND.
AND IN LOVE.
WHEN YOU SPEAK OF LOVE YOU NATURALLY COME TO THE SUBJECT OF MARRIAGE.
MARRIAGE WAS ORIGINALLY A LEGAL CONTRACT IN WHICH A FATHER SOLD HIS DAUGHTER TO ANOTHER MAN'S SON.
AS WE HAVE EVOLVED AND CHANGED AS HUMANS, THE CONCEPT OF MARRIAGE HAS CHANGED.
DURING THE MEDIEVAL TIMES WE HUMANS EVOLVED INTO ROMANTICS AND THE CONCEPT OF LOVE WAS ALLOWED TO ENTER IN THE DEFINITION OF MARRIAGE.
HOWEVER, SOON OUTSIDE FORCES TURNED MARRIAGE INTO A SUPPOSED WAY TO SAVE MEN AND WOMEN FROM SIN.
THE SIN OF LOVE.
TODAY WE THINK OF MARRIAGE AS A JOYFUL CELEBRATION OF LOVE THAT EVERYONE SHOULD BE ABLE TO EXPERIENCE.
WE HAVE EVOLVED AND CHANGED.
AND SO HAS THE DEFINITION OF MARRIAGE.
THE OTHER REASON WE ARE HERE AND ARGUABLY THE MORE IMPORTANT REASON IS SIMPLE.
WE MEMBERS OF THE LGBT COMMUNITY WANT THE RIGHTS GIVEN TO US BY THE FOUNDING FATHERS OF THIS MOST WONDERFUL COUNTRY THAT WE KNOW AS THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
THE FOUNDING FATHERS TOLD US FROM THE BEGINNING THAT WE WERE ALL EQUAL UNDER THE LAWS OF THIS COUNTRY.
NOW, WE ALL KNOW THAT WASN'T ALWAYS FOLLOWED.
BLACKS, NATIVE AMERICANS AND WOMEN CAN CERTAINLY FIND NUMEROUS EXAMPLES WHERE SOME GROUPS WERE NOT GIVEN THEIR EQUAL RIGHTS.
ONLY IN THE 1920'S WERE WOMEN ALLOWED TO VOTE.
BLACKS ACTUALLY WERE NOT GIVEN THEIR RIGHTS TO EQUAL ACCESS TO THE VOTE WITHIN ALOT OF OUR LIFETIMES.
UNTIL VERY RECENTLY THE LGBT COMMUNITY WAS CONSIDERED A VILE, SICK COMMUNITY THAT REQUIRED PSYCHIATRIC HELP.
WE AS A COUNTRY HAVE EVOLVED AND CHANGED.
WHAT HAS NOT CHANGED OVER THESE PAST 200 PLUS YEARS IS THE DEFINITION OF EQUALITY.
THE REASON WE ARE HERE TODAY IS TO NOT ONLY ASK THAT WE BE ALLOWED TO LOVE AND MARRY WHO WE WANT.
WE ARE ALSO HERE TO ASK FOR, NO, DEMAND OUR EQUAL RIGHTS WHICH THE FOUNDING FATHERS ASSURED US THAT WE AS CITIZENS IF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA HAVE.
WE IN THE LGBT COMMUNITY HAVE FOUGHT IN EVERY WAR AND CONTINUE TO DO SO NOW UNDER THE MOST UNFAIR CIRCUMSTANCES MUCH LIKE BLACK MEN AND WOMEN DID DURING WORLD WAR TWO.
WE HAVE TAUGHT THE CHILDREN OF THIS COUNTRY FROM THE VERY BEGINNING AND CONTINUE TO DO SO WITH PRIDE AND , YES, WITH LOVE.
WE HAVE BUILT THE BRIDGES AND THE ROADS.
WE HAVE FLOWN THE PLANES AND TILLED THE FARMS.
WE WERE THERE A THE BEGINNING OF THE CIVIL RIGHTS MOVEMENT IN THE FORM OF BAYARD RUSTIN , WHO IF YOU DON'T KNOW, ORGANIZED THE HISTORIC MARCH ON WASHINGTON BY DR MARTIN LUTHER KING.
WE ARE HERE TODAY TO ASK, NO, DEMAND OUR RIGHTS.
WE HAVE FOUGHT FOR THEM.
WE HAVE DIED FOR THEM.
WE HAVE EARNED THEM.
WE DESERVE THEM.
SATURDAY 14 NOVEMBER 2008
Gay & Lesbian Community Center maps.google.com
953 E Sahara Ave # B31 Las Vegas, NV 89104 (702) 733-9800
When I learned about the passing of Proposition 8 in California two mornings after history was made, I considered calling in to work. I have never experienced such monumental highs and lows from a political cycle, particularly one in which I had been actively involved. The initial 52-48 vote left me nauseous, although I still wondered if it was an error.
Nope. No error or recount. It had passed. CNN and major news outlets had reported that a margin of roughly 500,000 people had effectively decided that equality should be written into California's constitution. Even as a resident from the Bluegrass State, the numbers were disturbingly solid and couldn't be ignored.
But what makes the mark really shine is how African-Americans were immediately the first to blame. Although Nate Silver from 538.com (http://www.fivethirtyeight.com/2008/11/prop-8-myths.html) and the Daily Kos's Shanikka (http://www.dailykos.com/story/2008/11/7/34645/1235/704/656272) have effectively debunked this myth 1000 times over, as a generational gap was really to blame for the way the vote went, a war of words has continued to escalate, leading to a tit-for-tat between Black and gays.
And where do Black gays fit in all this? Well, Ms. Cannick's post makes it perfectly clear that we don't --- or perhaps shouldn't because we never have.
First, let me say how much I admire Jasmyne Cannick and her devotion to GLBTQ causes, specifically those within the Black community. I can only hope I reach her level of involvement and commitment to working with our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters and allies.
But --- and this is a huge but --- on what basis did she decide to separate Black gays from the gay community? When she mentions "White gays" and "Black gays" repeatedly throughout her post, does she not realize that she's contributing to the racial disparities already dividing our community? And the fact that bigots are cackling their heads off with laughter from this unnecessary division?
Healthcare, housing, employment and HIV/AIDS are issues we as a whole community have been and should be devoted to solving and thankfully our nation was able to elect a marvelous candidate who will address them, hopefully within the span of his first term. But it's impossible to ignore the status of the millions of gays and lesbians around the country who can't marry whoever they love, along with the tangled rights that comes with such legal recognition.
The price of being gay in this country amounts to being treated as an invisible citizen or less than one, at least legally. Not to say that it is parallel with the discrimination Blacks have faced for hundreds of years, but the point is that the discrimination is and has always been present. A majority group is denying the rights of a slightly (or largely depending on where you live) unfavorable minority group while using the Bible and thwarting federal and state level guarantees of equal protection of the law. But what also makes this discrimination unique this time around is how it's financially-supported bigotry. Just ask Mormons, who donated nearly 40 percent of the funds for the Yes on 8 campaign. And if we want to play a round of the Blame-Game, let's start with them, shall we?
What also confounds this equality conundrum is the notion of Christianity being tied to civil rights. While it's true that social movements were born in black churches, the movement has expanded to other spheres in America. So many groups have found inspiration from the hundreds of marches, sit-ins, demonstrations and peaceful, nonviolent protests that captivated our nation years ago. But it's a legacy that needs to be adapted to other struggles of equality --- specifically the ones pertaining to immigration and women's rights and the one I'm writing about right now. Let's be clear: gay rights are CIVIL rights. I'd be hard-pressed to think Martin Luther King Jr., his wife, who continued to be an active force against discrimination (and gay rights) or any of the NAACP members, who still maintain a vital voice in the fight for equality, think that we should still be marching on the basis of color discrimination alone.
It's people like Jasmyne Cannick, me and everyone, white, Black, gay, straight, bisexual, transgendered, who need to collectively take on a call to action and recognize this for what it is; a desperate, despicable act to take away the freedoms from a group of people. Instead of resorting to isolation, racial identity certification, general excuses and blaming, we all need to band together and stop this horrible, atrocious act in California and our nation's history before it will be too late to overturn it.
Gay rights are civil rights, period. There is no "Black" skin on it, no matter which way you present it.
i'm a gay white boy. thanks for sharing this interesting and really informative perspective.
some of the issues/perspectives she brought up are right on the spot in terms of how i as a gay white man perceived the issue of other minorities supporting gay rights. i used to wonder why blacks wouldn't support gay rights--cuz i perceived that since we both were minorities that would bind us together.
It's only been recently that i've become more aware of the the many layers of differences we have, and that it's not easily defined, understood, or explained.
on the gay marriage issue: i'm not hung up on the issue of being 'married', BUT i DO care about having the same FEDERAL rights that straight couples have: death benefits, inheritance, and thousands of other things that straight people take for granted.
thanks for sharing this! i will pass it on to others.
ANYBODY ELSE WANT TO POST THEIR OPINION? EMAIL ME AT THEVEGASSTYLEGUY@GMAIL.COM
On 15 October my friend Gigantor asked me if I knew a place to get his computer fixed. I said I had heard of a place called SUPERTECH on Sahara right next to the Statue of Liberty (the irony will make you chuckle later. Or kick a bitches' ass.).
We went and a little pimple of a Warcraft dweeb said it would be two days.
Well, after numerous phone calls (which Gigantor had to make to them) they admitted that the part came but was the wrong one so they were waiting but that they would have it expressed.
So, on 08 (Sat) NO FUCKING VEMBER Gigantor said he had had it and would be coming to pick up his computer the following day on Sunday.
The sign at this home for dried worm smegma clearly states Sat/Sun closing at 3pm.
We arrived at 2pm on the dot. The place was closed.
So, Monday at 4pm we go to the store and Gigantor asked them to waive their $65 "diagnostic" fee.
When we dropped of the lap top Gigantor told THEM what was wrong with the computer and cautioned them that their was adult content on the computer of a "love that dare not speak it's name" persuasion.
This is where it gets good.
These two fucks who run the place proceeded to tell Gigantor it was his fault for not being patient! HELLOOOOO!
They also told him that they lied about expressing the part because they weren't going to pay for an express fee.
When I said that their customer service was the worst I had ever seen I was told "you act like a woman, you just want to argue."
So, you have obviously just said you don't respect women AND you just implied something about my masculinity.
After much fussing (like women I guess) the owner says that if Gigantor doesn't pay he will call the police.
Exit stage left.
But. Oh. No.
The little one says to me, "I like women". And proceeds to do a little mincing dance like someone from Flower Drum Song In front of the owners son AND the owner!
Not a word from the owner.
Then he says to me he says, "you need a boy, I like women."
I of course told him that he needed a dick in his mouth.
I was about to kick his little repressed, suppressed, inbred flat ass but I looked over and realized I had just made that comment in front of the little boy.
I also realized that all of this was on camera. They were everywhere. probably because of all their happy customers. Honestly, if that little bitch had said that to me out of camera range I would be dictating this from a jail cell and he would be eating pussy through a straw.
Straight guys don't realize who they are fucking with sometimes. I will hurt a bitch for what he did. More importantly, his boss said nothing.
How do you let an employee gay bash (verbally) a customer in your store? In front of your child?
Sir, have you no shame?
So, needless to say I highly encourage you to write SUPERTECH a bitchy little letter and make sure no one you know patronizes them.
Why you may ask haven't I gone to some authority or gay org to have protests, etc.?
Simple, there are much bigger battles to fight than some dickless, fantasy loving, pimple who made "fag" comments. Personally, I'd rather handle him in the proper way.
I challenge that closet case little fucker to meet me in a gym with or without gloves (oh yeah, we can go all UFC. Bitch) so that he can reiterate his feelings about gay people.
This is a serious offer.
C'mon little fucker. Man up. Talk shit about gay people in a ring and find out what official discrimination, trash talking, and all the gay bashing bitches like you have done over the years feels like when I fuck you up!
HATE THESE FUCKERS!
Write a review 4011 W Sahara Ave # 7 Las Vegas, NV 89102 (702) 382-1119
I'm sorry that Prop 8 passed but, honestly, I didn't really see it as my "issue".
I think all citizens should have the right to enter into a legal arrangement that confers certain benefits on the co-signers of that agreement. Marriage. It's only constitutional.
Having said that, West Hollywood white guys get on my last fucking nerve.
This whole thing was somehow made to be about them.
"...honestly Chad, we've got the store bought Chinese baby, Brittney honey, put other daddy's Noguchi lamp back on the midcentury boomerang table, we finally are on the VIP list at all the important Jeffrey Sanker events. Crunch just gave us keys to the VIP steam room in Studio City, you're at Buena Vista and I'm the best dressed realtor according to Genre Magazine, the only thing we're missing is the right to marry."
"...I know! Logan, this whole prop 8 thing will die in flames. Ha! Ha! I said "flames!" I mean really, we're voting for Obama and that cute, for a black guy, hunk at the gym had on a "No 0n 8" button , so, they're voting against it. We should plan a June wedding at my moms place in Arrowhead."
Sorry Weho bores. Not so fast.
I threw several events for Obama. Each time the Party press department told me that my events were not exactly the kind of events they were trying to publicize.
Translation: "That's So Gay"
Mr. Obama himself made it very clear that he opposed Gay marriage and that he believed marriage was between a man and a woman.
So, there was no need for the average black person to do the right thing and vote against Prop 8. They just voted like O.
Might have helped to have some black people in on the planning sessions. And not the NAACP. Those clowns are just a bunch of poverty pimps who get their paychecks by forcing people to say "African American".
Jeesh Chad and Logan, get some Black friends. It woulda saved you a little heartache.
Oh, and learn to listen. If you had, you would have heard Mr. Obama say you weren't equal.
I Love me some O but I think he needed to get elected and be in office about 6 years before your "gay shit" will matter to him.
Btw, don't expect DADT to be repealed anytime soon.
Here's an opinion piece that I actually got permission to reprint!
Remember when I used to just take shit?
The author is Jasmyne A.Cannick and I gotta say I think she nails it. She's a lesbian so she's a little angrier than I , however, if my dick was any bigger, I would feel exactly like her.
Opinion No-on-8's white bias The right to marry does nothing to address the problems faced by both black gays and black straights. By Jasmyne A. Cannick November 8, 2008 I am a perfect example of why the fight against Proposition 8, which amends the state Constitution to ban same-sex marriage, failed to win black support.
I am black. I am a political activist who cares deeply about social justice issues. I am a lesbian. This year, I canvassed the streets of South Los Angeles and Compton, knocking on doors, talking politics to passers-by and working as I never had before to ensure a large voter turnout among African Americans. But even I wasn't inspired to encourage black people to vote against the proposition.
Why? Because I don't see why the right to marry should be a priority for me or other black people. Gay marriage? Please. At a time when blacks are still more likely than whites to be pulled over for no reason, more likely to be unemployed than whites, more likely to live at or below the poverty line, I was too busy trying to get black people registered to vote, period; I wasn't about to focus my attention on what couldn't help but feel like a secondary issue.
The first problem with Proposition 8 was the issue of marriage itself. The white gay community never successfully communicated to blacks why it should matter to us above everything else -- not just to me as a lesbian but to blacks generally. The way I see it, the white gay community is banging its head against the glass ceiling of a room called equality, believing that a breakthrough on marriage will bestow on it parity with heterosexuals. But the right to marry does nothing to address the problems faced by both black gays and black straights. Does someone who is homeless or suffering from HIV but has no healthcare, or newly out of prison and unemployed, really benefit from the right to marry someone of the same sex?
Maybe white gays could afford to be singularly focused, raising millions of dollars to fight for the luxury of same-sex marriage. But blacks were walking the streets of the projects and reaching out to small businesses, gang members, convicted felons and the spectrum of an entire community to ensure that we all were able to vote.
Second is the issue of civil rights. White gays often wonder aloud why blacks, of all people, won't support their civil rights. There is a real misunderstanding by the white gay community about the term. Proponents of gay marriage fling it around as if it is a one-size-fits-all catchphrase for issues of fairness.
But the black civil rights movement was essentially born out of and driven by the black church; social justice and religion are inextricably intertwined in the black community. To many blacks, civil rights are grounded in Christianity -- not something separate and apart from religion but synonymous with it. To the extent that the issue of gay marriage seemed to be pitted against the church, it was going to be a losing battle in my community.
Then there was the poorly conceived campaign strategy. Opponents of Proposition 8 relied on an outdated civil rights model, engaging the National Assn. for the Advancement of Colored People to help win black support on the issue of gay marriage. This happened despite the warnings of black lesbians and gays that it wouldn't work. While the NAACP definitely should have been included in the strategy, it shouldn't have been the only group. Putting nearly a quarter of a million dollars into an outdated civil rights group that has very little influence on the black vote -- at least when it comes to gay issues -- will never work.
Likewise, holding the occasional town-hall meeting in Leimert Park -- the one part of the black community where they now feel safe thanks to gentrification -- to tell black people how to vote on something gay isn't effective outreach either.
There's nothing a white gay person can tell me when it comes to how I as a black lesbian should talk to my community about this issue. If and when I choose to, I know how to say what needs to be said. Many black gays just haven't been convinced that this movement for marriage is about anything more than the white gays who fund it (and who, we often find, are just as racist and clueless when it comes to blacks as they claim blacks are homophobic).
Some people seem to think that homophobia trumps racism, and that winning the battle for gay marriage will symbolically bring about equality for everyone. That may seem true to white gays, but as a black lesbian, let me tell you: There are still too many inequalities that exist as it relates to my race for that to ever be the case. Ever heard of "driving while black"? Ever looked at the difference between the dropout rates for blacks and for whites? Or test scores? Or wages? Or rates of incarceration?
And in the end, black voters in California voted against gay marriage by more than 2 to 1.
Maybe next time around -- because we all know this isn't over -- the gay community can demonstrate the capacity and willingness to change that America demonstrated when it went to the polls on Nov. 4. Black gays are depending on their white counterparts to finally "get it."
Until then, don't expect to make any inroads any time soon in the black community on this issue -- including with this black lesbian.
Jasmyne A. Cannick is a writer in Los Angeles. jasmynecannick.com.
Also if you're interested in more on the subject: http://www.zimbio.com/Brown,+Black+and+Queer/articles/31/Is+Gay+Marriage+Anti+Black
WHY: It's badass. From the opening bass line on to James shouting out a bunch of cities on the old "Chitlin Curcuit" James, is totally shouting out a list of cities that Barack Obama later won on his way to becoming POTUS.
Ok, I swear fo God I'll be over my Baracrush soon.
MIRIAM MAKEBA: PATA PATA
WHY: Miriam has this coolio sorta African fun swing going on. She makes living under Aparthied bareable.
BLANCMANGE: LIVING ON THE CEILING
WHY: The production is this ocean of Indian and Nouvelle Vague (that's cheese whiz, bitch, for skinny ties and purple hair) whirling through a sonic patch right at the top of your head. Get stoned and put on those big headphones.
LUCKY ALI: O SANAM
WHY: Easily one the prettiest songs I've heard over the last ten years. I have no idea what it's about, it's in Hindi or some such. Youtube the video and see what I mean.
THE RUNAWAYS: CHERRY BOMB
WHY: I went to Edgewood High School in West Covina, Cali. I knew girls who drove Javelins and fucked in Camaros. Feathered hair. But not in a sexy Farrah do. No, the bitches I knew had hair that feathered naturally because their hair was afraid to touch their face. The girls I knew worked to get cameltoe in their Sasoons. Cha Cha Cherry BOMB!
MADAME X: JUST THAT TYPE OF GIRL
WHY: Lesbians who knew the men all paused when they went to the Speakeasy. "Turn it up! Crank it!"
GRACE JONES: LA VIE EN ROSE
WHY: If all you know of Grace Jones is that Bond movie (the best!) then you don't know Miss Grace. Or really good extacy. Poor you. Either way.
MADONNA: TAKE A BOW
WHY: You have to have ear wax in the shape of a boll weevil to play this song and not get laid. Just when he's about to cry, take his chin in your hands, look into his eyes and say (I swear. Really) "I'll never hurt you." LAY-ED! Not that I've ever done this. Really. Oh bitch please, I know it works because It's Derek move # 602 (the Princess Diana Years). Oops. I guess it's in retirement now. What I do for you people.
NINE INCH NAILS: I WANNA FUCK YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL
WHY: Are you for real? Let me just "splain sumting to you Lucy", if I play this song, I'm about to show you openings (from the inside) that you never knew about. In plain English, I'm going to put it all up in you. It will work for most, however, don't get it twisted, you aint me. I make no assurances. Every man is an island unto himself. Huh?
PHIL SPECTOR: ANY FUCKING PHIL SPECTOR
WHY: Cause he's a crazy, afro wearing, gun toting, murderous, little, pyscho dweeb. Because of Darlen Love and the Dixie Cups. Because he made Ike Turner nervous. He held Ronnie Spector prisoner in a Bel Air mansion. For the 60's! He gave Sony Bono his start. Which led to CHER! What more do you need?
Now. Get to Frostwire or wherever you steal your music.
Politically active LGBT single and looking to mingle! Love to to laugh and think. Big on bios especially Political and trashy Hollywood stuff. Love old movies and classic cocktails. I'm very laid back until I want something,at that point anyone in my way gets mowed down. I will be a city councilman in Las Vegas within the next five years. Very conservative total liberal. Hate idiots on the left and right. PC makes me gag (and not in a fun late 70's way). I laugh all the time! I used to be on American Bandstand and had a spotlight dance to some awful QuarterFlash ditty with my partner Nanette Wallinsky, I believe we were the first interracial dance couple on AB, "we're goin' rockin...."!