DRAGSLAG.ORG

I love looking forward to something that I know is going to be amazing, like a weekend get-away or PB and Bacon sandwich. The few days before your get-away drag on and on until the last minute, but then the moment comes when you’re about to embark on your trip, you have all the time in the world ahead of you. I always savor those moments, the ride up, the journey.

But fuck that! The real fun is the destination: Some Are Camp!

Me, my favorite ex, Seanie, his fab gal pal Arielle, and my two jealous, tragically flawed, but super fun buddies John and Joe arrived on Friday night, set up camp in the ugliest motel room I’ve ever seen, gussied up, went to Safeway, then hit up the RRR in Guerneville for some boozing, cruising and Karaoke. Oh, and because of our belated arrival and dilly dallying, we missed the Maricon-ita drag show by about 20 minutes. Thanks to Kiddie for heading this up. I heard it was amazing!

The next day we got up, drank a bloody mary breakfast and never looked back. The whole day was filled with sun, fun, boys, girls, mudslides, trannies and of course drag.

Poolside drag anyone? Downey, Hoku, Mutha Chucka, Dam Dyke and Dean Disaster put on a hilarious and inspired poolside drag show. Downey and Hoku’s duet to “Almost Paradise” was a hit, featuring Hoku as one die, and Downey as a domino. Close enough! It’s a touching number where they fall in love and teach each other about life’s pleasures, eating Sun Chips and ribbon dancing.

Saturday night found us entertained by a crazy drag show hosted by Glamamore, titled “Glamamore’s Meager Things and Stuff” which was a sensation! Lady Bunny flew all the way from New York just to entertain us with her bawdy songs filled with poo and dick jokes.

During the show I was busy taking pics of David Aguilar and his gorgeous boa constrictors. Folks got to pose with them, having first to sign a waiver in case the snake did something unexpected. No one was hurt, but I heard a rumor that I started where a certain someone had to be escorted away from David and the snakes cuz she was a tranny train wreck drunky pants and could potentially startle the snakes. Action packed!

After the drag show all the boys and girls got saddled up into their beast outfits, donning masks, hooves, snouts, fur, feathers and antlers, parading through the streets of Guerneville after midnight, crashing all the parties in all the bars in town one after the other. This was the moment, the sheer pandemonium that we created, brining a sleepy resort town onto its dancing feet. Not everyone was pleased. A local stopped to ask Vivvy Anne Forevermore “What are you twelve?” And she responded, “No, I’m 29 and I’m dressed like a deer.” We moved on, dancing and laughing in our beastly guises. We tore up the bars, the streets, and if I had made it any further (I got distracted by a new special friend), then I would have seen us tear up the local Safeway at almost 2am as well. Rumor has it that tupperware was stolen in a drunken stupor. Genius!

The next day after the dizziness and blur of Saturday faded, I found myself not in my ugly motel room, but with a complete stranger in a very nice private cabin. What a relief! Once I got my bearings I walk-of-shamed back to my buddies at our room to find that they had already checked out. I was abandoned! But not for long. I headed over to the poolside at the RRR and laid out, waiting for my buddies and sussing out breakfast plans with my fellow food seekers.

Sunday was a blast, laid back, tipsy, fun.  Vivvy treated us to a poolside version of “Part of Your World” from the Little Mermaid. The splashing was relentless, fulfilling. My new special friend and I ran up to the local store to get floaty toys for the pool. While I was there I fell in love with a little charmer who I named Drowney Sensation (see pic below). She was such hit, stealing all of my attention! I’m hoping that she can make it next year.

The ride home was good, a bit sleepy with a stop off to get some In and Out Burger. There my buddy Joe entertained the locals with some of his beast trickery. Work those panty hose beastie!

What an amazing weekend. If you didn’t go this summer, you MUST go next year! It has to be experienced  to be believed. Some people said it was the best weekend of their lives. I thought it was outstanding! I made new “friends,” lost count on mudslides, performed (on and off stage), took sexy pix of everyone, met a drag legend, dressed up like something from “Where the Wild Things Are,” and drown my newly adopted baby. It was exhausting fun! I dare you to do next year!

xo

Faux King Awesome!

“That’s not drag!” shouts the obnoxious know-it-all trannysseur wannabe. “That’s not drag! You can’t just go up there on stage dressed like a clown and pull ribbons out of your ass! I’m sorry, but that’s not drag!”

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.

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.

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!!!

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.

Having low expectations can save you from a lifetime of disappointment, but it often makes you feel like an asshole when some things actually impress the pants off of you. This is Fresno.  

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?

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).

 

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!

 

 

 

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!

 

 

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.

 

Splat!

The evening at The Den continued…

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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…

 

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…

 

 

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.