Well then what is it? What is it when you’re not sure what it is? Is it art? What is art?

Does it matter? Does questioning it matter? Who cares?

Personally I don’t effen care how people get their rocks off on stage as long as it’s funny, scary or sad. I don’t really care if anyone lives or dies on that stage as long as I feel something. Isn’t that what it really is? It’s really about you as a voyeur, an audience member, being pleased, satiated. I go to shows to be challenged, to be moved, to laugh till my head hurts, to heckle, to be inspired. But I go to Tiara Sensation on Monday nights at the Stud to celebrate the retarded things that make life so amazing! Clearly Tiara Sensation has become the most retarded drag night in the city. The infamous Project Runtover, the once a month dragstravaganza that pits multiple teams of models/designers against each other to win the most infantile fashion (drag) show you’ve ever seen. The Bathhouse Betty nights with themed drag show and “special maze” for clothing optional encounters. The once in a while game shows hosted by Hot Gloobanks, most recently Family Screwed! Oh, and let’s not forget that this dance floor comes with a craft table for creating your own tiaras. There was a weenie roast last week and S’mores this past week. Is this really drag? It has to be experienced to believed. Trust.

The creators of Project Runtover Vivvy Anne Forevermore, DJ Down-E, Glamamore and Hot Gloo have brainstormed a night that dares you not to do drag. When I first heard they were doing this I thought it was brilliant, but did not think anyone would show up to do anything. They had over a dozen performers. It was a hit! Everything from spoken word, dancing, drama, smoking, vogueing, screeching cats, and live singing. The show went on forever and was hysterical, crescendoing into a drag number that took everyone outside into the parking lot next door.

Vivvy Anne Forevermore and Elijah Minelli opened the show with a 10 minute dual lip synch to Elizabeth Taylor’s Martha in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf.  Applying makeup, tossing back a slew of shots, grimacing, glaring, fist-clenching, screaming, working the room, using the whole place as their stage, in our faces, in unison with each other. In the end the two Martha’s held hands. It was funny, mesmerizing, and beautiful, but mostly retarded.

Vivvy Anne readies herself as Elijah Minelli looks on

The Marthas race to the bottom... of a shot glass.

Viv and Elijah think Richard Burton has another thing coming.

The Marthas unite.

The rest of the night ceased to amaze, a cavalcade of drag/not drag performances that dazzled the imagination, but mostly were really retarded. Such varied performances ranged from spoken word to spoken lip synch, from interpretive dance to interpretive modeling.

Opalteen/Hot Gloo rocks out like Steven Tyler.

Dam Dyke gets philosophical and asks "What is drag?"

Monistat poses, vogues, smokes, glares, shifts and models all at once.

Ferosha Interprets for us through dance.

Chastiti does Liza. Hey that's drag! How'd that get in there?

Rahni pumps it up. Back flips, finger-pointing live singing realness! Get it!

Mr. David lays it out for us real plain.

The true highlight of the night came from Beth Amphetamine’s outdoor parking lot performance atop a moving vehicle.  Lip synching “Hold On” by Wilson Philips, Beth worked the trashy crack whore drag, climbed onto her own car and held on tight as it moved around in circles. Flava Flav helped out with art direction and general dope-cred factor. “Dontcha know things will change, things will go your way…” Work!!!

Beth works the tranny hooker realness.

Adding Flava Flav to any music video changes everything!

Flawless car-top performance.

So this is drag. It’s been re-defined as not-not drag. Irony upon irony until it just doesn’t matter anymore. I wanna give a 5-star shout out to the folks over at Tiara for making this such a fun and unexpectedly great night of the most random performances. Tiara really puts the art in retarded.

Leaving the gravitational pull of the city, passing through the windmills near Livermore, your mind tends to drift.  Overwhelmed with a sense of adventure, you really appreciate yourself and your fellow travelers… or was it because some tranny train-wreck spilled poppers in the back of the van?

Marcy Playground finds county ordinances hilarious.

We came upon a rest stop in the middle of Nowhere, CA.  Startling other motorists and truckers which allowed us to have the run of the place.  Although our rest was brief we managed to get some laughs, pics and a tranny march around the toilets to mark our territory (tranny-tory).

With sunglasses on, Vajonna D'Entata enjoys a cool beverage in the heat of a Los Baños Denny's.

After traveling for another hour the stench of poppers and nail polish dissipated (this made driving very difficult) so we decided to stop and eat.  Passing Los Baños, an oasis consisting of a Wal-Mart, car dealerships, dead strip malls, Denny’s and string of fast food joints, we pulled into a sprawling parking lot, unloaded and brought drag realness to the locals.  They reacted as if they saw this shit everyday. So we acted accordingly. Nothing makes a Grand Slam with your choice of meat or Moons Over My Hammy go down quite so well as a fruit fizzy and klonopin. Delish.

Arriving at The Den in Fresno was amazing.  Belmont Avenue is strewn with hookers, tranny hookers, pimps, johns, speed addicts, winos, hoochie mamas and homophobic cops.  I felt like I was back in Detroit on McNichols and Woodward. Good times. Realness!

They run a tight ship at The Den

Cisco, Ferosha and Terry

Cisco and Terry, our gracious and generous hosts, made sure that everything went smooth, from club to afterhours to brunch the next morning. And what a booze/tranny chaser selection at the afterhours! Thank you guys!

Juanita Fajita serves up tasty tacos from her taco truck stand.

How sausage is made. Fajita's secret to fresh meat and cheese. Motel room cookin!

Charlie Horse would not be complete without Juanita Fajita’s taco truck.  Bringing fresh meats and cheeses from San Francisco, Fajita starts crockpotting early in the evening to kill any potential swine flu that may have tainted the food.  This is the way they prepare tacos in her native land of Guadalajara, Oregon.  It’s a shame most of the nacho cheese ended up on the floor of the van, then subsequently on the blacktop of the Best Western parking lot.

Van floor nacho cheese scrapings make lovely parking lot art.

Splat!

The evening at The Den continued…

Miss Nix, Anna Conda and Opalteen caught in a completely candid, unposed photo.

A local queen struts her stuff, announcing her candidacy for Fresno Empress.

The performances were stellar.  The whole gang of misfits brought it, showing Fresno and ourselves just how special and fucked up we really are…

Anna Conda eats dog biscuits. Classy.

Cupcake Cunt takes a moment to wet her whistle on stage.

Dam Dyke busts out the band faggotry.

Downey takes a sip of soda, Pop Rocks follow.

Juanita Fajita jerks off on stage. Again, classy.

Lucy Borden gives two times for Beyonce.

Marcy Playground brings it during her minute.

Miss Nix shakes her tamborine.

We cleaned up, packed up and got kicked out of The Den at closing time.  But I was able to get a quick shot of some local gay culture…

This bar art baffled even the most experienced of San Franciscan tastes.

After the show we all piled into our vehicles and caravaned to Cisco and Terry’s place for a wonderful afterparty filled with liquor and tranny chasers…

Frieda Laye wows a young Fresno chaser.

It's 5am and Brett's wearing a little red hat. It must be time to leave.

The trip was amazing and eye-opening.  We saw tranny chaser realness, and found fans in the valley.  We found ourselves to be fonts of inspiration for those of the ‘No.  Looking forward to coming back in October, don’t forget to bring poppers.