Poets, prophets and famous writers have all said life is a lot of things: a mystery, a bitch, a beach, a box of chocolates, a cereal with enough bran to make you shit almost instantly. But it was a drunk and slightly retarded Liza Minnelli who said it best: “Life is a cabaret, old chum.” The heels are alive with the sound of music every Monday and Tuesday, 10pm to midnight, at Zipperz (72 Carlton St) for Roxxie Teraine’s Broadway Cabaret live singing spectacle. Hitting notes only a shot to the balls can bring, drag star Roxxie is accompanied by pro pianist Joel Lightman who is as talented as Alicia Keys and just as adorable, minus the cornrows and Oprah appearances. Roxxie’s look and sound shares a remarkable resemblance to mother-daughter team Judy Garland and Minnelli, though not nearly half as dead or drunk.
I am happy to finally find my way to the show. It’s a nice compensation for those who did not save up their pennies to see Liza or couldn’t possibly save up enough in this lifetime to see Barbra. There’s an assortment of ages in the crowd, from enthusiastic theatre majors to ancient queens who were born the same year the piano was created. I ask a much older gentleman what his favourite Broadway tune is. He cocks his head and stares at me silent and confused. Umm… papa, can you hear me?
For those with a busy week catch the show and all that jazz for its early evening installment on Fridays from 6pm to 8pm.
Speaking of catching things, Crews/Tango is on temporary hiatus leaving me nowhere to go where my plaid dress and Ani DiFranco T-shirt will be appreciated. So I opt for plan B and hit the G-spot. Joseph Patrick and Sofonda Cox are celebrating their Dirty Sexy Party’s one-year anniversary at pansexual playground Goodhandy’s (120 Church St) and every box on the block is here to get their rocks off as super hot Jeremy Building — whose dink is as big as one — strips and sensually teases the crowd. Sofonda, looking like Beyoncé without the halo, encourages devilishly handsome Jeremy to get fresh with the crowd. Insatiable sluts with an appetite for eye candy gladly watch as he whacks off in their faces. If you sit too close, you may get more in your eye than just candy. I lean in to one sexy patron and remark how insanely busy the club is tonight. “Honey,” he snaps, “gay men treat sex as entertainment!” I treat it with penicillin.
The next party features porno hottie David Taylor on Fri, Jun 5 ($10 cover; $20) so come get some of that candy. With a raging appetite of my own, I dyke march up the street in my Ani T-shirt to O’Grady’s (518 Church St) where I had previously attended Bear Night (Fridays at 10pm; no cover). A bear on Church St, for those who don’t know, is not a cuddly playful panda or a stuffed Valentine’s toy but a furry, hot man who would throw a freeloading bitch like Goldilocks through a window if she touched his dinette set. As I order my bear burger, I realize I haven’t seen this much hair since the musical opened on Broadway in 1969. One patron’s “filthy pig” T-shirt sends me scrambling through my purse for a swine flu mask. Then I realize it’s more of a fisting reference so I pull out my dish gloves instead, good to have for such an occasion… and for the fact I had no intention of paying my bill.
I see bear scene regulars like Steve Buczek, super-photographer David Hawe and lady bear extraordinaire Fay Slift chattering amongst the crowd. I fondly remember Fay Slift terrifying a crowd at Fly for Grapefruit’s Kylie X Edition with her rendition of “2 Hearts, 1 Beard” and wonder if she will attend Kylie Minogue’s anticipated show at the Air Canada Centre on Oct 9 with that infamous beard. Security will probably be extra-specially wary as some bozo twink recently jumped up on stage at a Britney Spears concert and scared the shit out of her. The moment is captured in all its glory on YouTube. It’s great fun watching the shock of the moment blow that dangling tampon of hers right out of the stadium.
With my fill of excess hair and beef complete, I get over to Buddies (12 Alexander St) to jiggle my fat gunt with some laughs for the 12th incarnation of We’re Funny that Way comedy festival, the original queer comedy spectacle that highlights the best of Canadian and US talents. Proceeds go to youth programs care of the We’re Funny that Way Foundation. My foundation is cracking as I laugh my way through four days with acts like Jim J Burrows, the Slanty Eyed Mamas, Dina Martina and Lea DeLaria; my face looks like a road map to Sweden by the time I’m through. I could have sworn I saw über promoter Gairy Brown shoo away brash and sassy producer Maggie Cassella with a pair of Fendi sunglasses but at this point I’m drunk and only hoping for such a scene.
A lot of familiar faces come out to see Nina Arsenault’s super funny I Was Barbie show, honoured with standing ovations at each of its runs. It’s the tranny chasers at the pay-what-you-can show who beam the most at the great deal — paying $5 for an hour with a tranny. As Nina recounts her hilarious backstage affairs, I am happy to see her mom and dad in the crowd hooting and hollering along with the rest of us queens and fans. It brings a tear to my eye but in a different way than when that dick was in my face at Goodhandy’s.
The coolest parts of the show are the kitschy vintage Barbie commercials on a big screen while Nina dances in front to songs like “Dress You Up” by Madonna. The only thing Madonna is dressed up in these days are bandages and giant blue bunny ears after falling off a horse yet again. Why is it every time that woman opens her legs she ends up on her back?
As a drag queen and fashion whore I must confess that, as everyone cheers and giggles along to Nina’s antics, all I keep thinking is, “I want her fucking dress!” With my luck, it’s a size 6. Life sucks.
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