Golden Boy

I've had a crush on Greg Louganis since the first time I saw his gorgeous face and rippling physique packed into a tiny speedo on the end of a diving board during the '84 Summer Olympics, back when I knew I felt 'different' but hadn't quite grasped the concept of 'gay.'  I remember how hot he looked on the podium, with those gold medals around his neck as the National Anthem played in the background.  I felt his pain in Seoul in '88 after hitting his head on the springboard during the preliminary rounds, and I cheered as he went on to win two more gold medals in spite of the concussion.  Greg's been a vocal advocate for LGBT rights since coming out as gay and HIV+ in 1995, and is the subject of a new biographical documentary Back on Board, airing Tuesday night on HBO.  And he's still just as hot as he was in '84.

Rico.......Suave.......

So I've been watching reruns of Dynasty lately on PopTV, and I'm not quite up to the season where Sammy Jo hires Rita to impersonate Aunt Krystle to trick the bank into releasing her inheritance, only to have Rita's lover Joel Abrigore take over the scheme and kidnap Krystle so that Rita can take her place and embezzle money from Blake, leading up to the epic Krystle vs. Krystle lookalike catfight in the Delta Rho attic, but when I get there I can say I met George Hamilton, who plays Joel, and he was just as debonair and sophisticated as you'd think he'd be, which is pretty fucking cool. 

Brainwashed

Forget Van Gogh, Matisse and Monet.  Some of the coolest art on the planet can be found in the streets of New York.  I'm talking stickers, wheat pasting, stencils and graffiti thrown up on walls, street signs and the sides of buildings by spray-can toting guerillas in the middle of the night to blow smoke up the art world's ass and terrorize the city with humor and creativity.  Sure it's mostly illegal, but maybe that's why it appeals to my inner mischief maker in a way the Mona Lisa never did.  Or maybe it's the bright, bold colors.  Yeah, that must be it.  I've always been a sucker for bold colors. 


The undisputed king of street art is Banksy, but since he's never publicly revealed his identity there's no chance I'm getting a photo with him anytime soon, so here's his protégé Mr. Brainwash instead.  Some conspiracy theorists say that Brainwash IS Banksy, but I don't think so.  I don't have that kind of luck.

Still A 10!

I was eleven years old the first time I saw Bo Derek's breasts, and it traumatized me.  It was during some wholesome family bonding time with my parents and brother during a Clash of the Titans/A Change of Seasons double feature at the drive in theater.  Though they'd never heard of A Change of Seasons, it starred Shirley MacLaine and Anthony Hopkins, so my parents reasoned it must be good, and they were damned sure going to get their moneys worth!  I will never forget the shocked expression on my mother's face when Bo Derek is getting fucked HARD in the hot tub, her breasts heaving up and down in the worst case of overacting during a sex scene in a body of water until Showgirls came along fourteen years later.  My brother and I just giggled in the back seat.  AWKWARD!


Bo went on to star in such underrated cinematic jewels as 10, Bolero, Tarzan the Ape Man, and Ghosts Can't Do It, and now she's set to guest star (as Tara Reid's mother!) in Sharknado 3: Oh Hell No!, premiering on the SyFy Channel Wednesday night.  It's amazing the career path a nice pair of tits will get you.

I Love Busch!

One of my all time favorite movies is Psycho Beach Party, the psychedelic tale of a pigtailed surfer girl with a split personality whose blackouts coincide with a gruesome murder spree (think sociopathic Gidget on hallucinogens and you wouldn't be far off) written by the brilliant gender bender Charles Busch, whose other works includes The Tale of The Allergist's Wife, Die Mommie, Die! and Vampire Lesbians of Sodom.  Charles Busch is a camp/cult icon with a twisted take on the absurd that appeals to my mangled heart, so the opportunity to meet him after his fabulous cabaret show was a no brainer!

Can't Stop The Music!

Music has always been a huge part of my life, and it still is to this day.  The first record I ever bought was The Village People's Live and Sleazy on 8-track in what is probably the greatest foreshadowing of my life!  My mom likes to tell the story of how I saved up all my allowance money while she drove around town week after week trying to find the least expensive place to buy the album, and when I finally had enough money I marched right into that store and brought that 8-track right up to the counter and proudly counted out the money to pay for it myself, then took that 8-track home and listened to it once before promptly forgetting about it for the rest of my life.  My mom likes to tell stories.  She's old and her memory isn't what it used to be, so who knows if this is true or not, but I'm older and my memory isn't what it used to be either so maybe it is?  I had a huge crush on the cowboy (when I wasn't trying to figure out if the indian was wearing underwear), so you can imagine how it felt to pee next to him tonight at 54 Below while waiting for the cabaret show to start.  Weird actually.  It felt weird.  And yes, we washed our hands before this picture was taken.

The Belle of Broadway

You may remember Bernadette Peters from her star-making duet with Kermit the Frog on The Muppet Show, possessed Raven in The Carol Burnett Show skit 'As The Stomach Turns', or as Leigh Conroy, Ivy's diva mother on Smash.  She's one of Broadway's most critically acclaimed performers, with seven Tony nominations and two wins, and four of the Broadway cast albums she starred on have won Grammys.  She's also 67 years old, with flawless porcelain skin and a great rack! 

Not The New Black

Orange is the New Black is one of the best shows on TV right now, and if you're not watching it you should be.  But is orange really the new black?  I mean, who wears orange besides convicts and aerobics instructors anyway?  It's garish and loud, clashes with most skin tones, emphasizes curves you don't want to draw attention to (trust me!) and makes you look like you crashed through a construction zone.  Unless this proclamation came down from Jesus Christ herself, Anna Wintour, then it's a bunch of bullshit and we should all keep wearing black.  None of the cast wore orange while promoting season three, and Crazy Eyes couldn't even be bothered to stand still for this picture!  Fuck orange!