I Try

I've been a fan of Macy Gray's crazy ass since I first heard I Try while day-drinking with this girl Sherry that I used to know on the balcony of an amazing apartment that we rented on Jackson Square during Southern Decadence a million years ago before she voted for #notmypresident and I had to cut her out of my life like a cancer, so I wasn't even a little surprised this morning to see Macy, half asleep/half stoned, struggling to count out the correct fare for her Uber driver then promptly dropping her keys as she tumbled out of the car arriving at Good Day New York to promote her annual New Years eve show at The Iridium, which I will not be attending because (1) it's in Times Square and you won't catch me there on a regular night, let alone New Years Eve and (2) I'm old, and my ass has a hard time staying awake past 11PM these days without stimulants.

Is This the Cocksucker Residence?

Forget The Godfather or Casablanca, and fuck that selfish Scarlett O'Hara.  If you recognize the title of this post you're obviously familiar with one of the greatest scenes in cinematic history, Beverly Sutphin's obscenity filled phony phone call terrorizing Dottie Hinkle in John Waters' masterpiece (and my favorite film of all time) Serial Mom.  I don't know why this film was overlooked by the academy because Kathleen Turner saying "pussy willows" still makes my ears pucker, and she and Mink Stole should have scored Best Actress nominations from this scene alone!  While Kathleen went on to Broadway acclaim and the role of Chandler's father on Friends, Mink went on to even greater stardom in But I'm a Cheerleader, Eating Out and Eating Out 2: Sloppy Seconds, which explains why she was performing her one woman cabaret act last night at The Cutting Room in NYC.

How Did You GET Here?

I can't tell you how many times I danced to Nobody's Supposed to Be Here shirtless on a box at a circuit party back in the day.  Really, I can't.  I was high.  And if you've ever been on the dancefloor with me you know that it's like I'm possessed, on the floor and speaking in tongues, so you'll have to excuse me.

What I CAN tell you is that on top of being incredibly talented, singer Deborah Cox was super nice this morning while promoting her Broadway-bound musical version of The Bodyguard, and she didn't even throw me a side eye me when I told her that story.  I bet she hears that from all the queens.

Sexual Chocolate

This picture would be so much better if Shemar Moore was holding his bare peen instead of doing that hang loose shit with his hands.  If you aren't familiar with this hot piece, you haven't been watching Criminal Minds for the last eleven years, didn't get sucked into watching The Young and the Restless at your grandmother's house when you were too sick to go to school (I don't know why Drucilla was always so bitchy, she was getting some good dick, P.S., by the way!) and never subscribed to the bastion of mail order glamour, the International Male catalogue, where he regularly showed off his chonies in fishnet shirts, pleather tank tops and tan through speedos that didn't live up to my expectations their claims.