I NEED A CLONE!!!
Many’s the time I’m confronted with a terrible dilemma that would confound even Solomon: which event to attend? One time I had to choose between a rave and a renaissance faire afterparty (guess which I chose?!), and now this weekend it’s happening again: I *REALLY* want to march in the protest against the War on Women this Saturday, but dress as my male alter ego, Johnny Areola, and march topless!! Alas, it coincides EXACTLY with a gig I’m doing as a giant stuffed dog at some Mexican kids’ event at the Springs Preserve. In the interest of paying my phone bill, I’m forgoing the protest march in favor of sweating my balls off in a dog suit, surrounded by screaming children. D’OH!!! Eloi, eloi…lama sabachthani?!!!!!!!! When will Science catch up to the demands of Wonderhussy?!!!
The ironic thing is, I don’t understand why everything’s happening NOW, when it’s been a slow week in wonderhussyland. By that, I mean no molestations or weird perverts trying to shoot photos of my cervix or anything. Gee! Must be time to hit up craigslist again! I did do one skeeeeeevy gig, but it ended up sucking (more on that below).
Mostly, I was busy working. BLECHH! A chunk of my week was consumed with this recycling convention, where I was hired to play Anti-Virus Girl for this company that makes software for recycling centers. I didn’t know bupkis about recycling — I mean, I put in on the curb, and they take it away. I’ve seen the episode of Penn & Teller’s “Bullshit” where they lambaste recycling as a liberal conspiracy, but apparently there’s BIG MONEY in it ‘cuz that trade show was jam-packed with greedy bastards. I doubt anyone there was in it for the Earth’s benefit.
Over the course of the show I learned all about the industry, and it was actually pretty interesting. They had all this gigantic equipment on display, like these 2-story-high bulldozers and claws and whatnot…very cool. But I was mostly confined to our booth, where they had me wearing this Green Lantern costume which they had customized to be the AntiVirus Girl outfit. They made an AVG logo, but unfortunately for me, the “A” was so prominent that it almost read “VAG…” which, in conjunction with the permanent camel toe that Green Lantern bodysuit afforded, made me look more like Super Vag! (Which, incidentally, I *AM*! )
After the convention, I rested a day and then it was back to work. This time it was an all-day photo shoot all over the desert outside Vegas. A photographer from Minnesota had hired me to take him to some of my favorite secret desert shooting spots, and we spent something like 10 HOURS driving around and shooting. It was fun, but exhausting! It was a hot day, and the sweat mixed with the desert dust in my asscrack made for a mighty fine cement. But after the sun went down, we did this really cool night shoot out among these red rock cliffs, and the photos came out REALLY cool.
I got back into town around midnight, and changed clothes real quik to meet a friend down at Cheetahs strip club — I’m still working on reviewing all the titty bars in Vegas, so whenever anyone invites me to one, I jump at the opportunity. This time, one of my Facebook friends had invited me to come down to Cheetahs and then check out Cover Girls (a new club that just opened in the old Rick’s Cabaret building). I had never met this guy in person before, so when I got to the club I sat on a bench out front and waited for him. While I waited, this random weird midwestern dude sat down next to me and started telling me all this fabulous gossip about local strip clubs. He was very interesting, but I didn’t want my friend to think I was blowing him off, so I kinda kept one eye on my phone the whole time. We must have sat there chatting for a half hour, and finally I was like, “Jeez!” and texted “Where the hell are you?!” to my friend. The guy sitting next to me’s phone vibrated — it was him! I felt like a royal idiot for not realizing who I was talking to all that time, but he didn’t seem offended. I chalk it up to exhaustion.
Anyhoo, we went in the club for awhile, but the air conditioning was broken and I was reeeeally tired, so after watching this AMAZING woman named Dragon dance onstage (she danced better/more dramatically than any stripper I’ve ever seen), we bailed and went over to Cover Girls. Cover Girls used to be Rick’s Cabaret, and before that it was Scores, and before that Jaguars. It’s one of those cursed buildings that never seems to harbor a popular club…let’s hope the 4th time is the charm, because this club is BEAUTIFUL! Three stories, very elegantly appointed, sort of like a Barbie Dream Whorehouse Mansion. But we only stayed a little while, because I was falling asleep on my feet.
Speaking of whorehouses, another night I went downtown to the fabulous Plaza to see the new production of The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas that they’re putting on there. It was fantastic! I’m a huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuge fan of the movie — I must have watched the VHS tape 100 times growing up. Well, OK, I was around 20…but I still lived at home, and I roped my poor little brother into watching it with me, so much so that he got into it, too! We used to sing those Dolly Parton/Burt Reynolds duets all the time…we loved it! (I can’t believe my brother didn’t grow up to be gay). Anyhoo, the Plaza is doing the Broadway version, which is different from the movie version, so I missed a couple of my favorite songs (the aforementioned Burt/Dolly duet)…but other than that they did a pretty good job. Too bad the theater was full of bluehairs — that place needs some livening up, already! What we need are a bunch of drag queens in Dolly Parton costumes, singing along a la “Rocky Horror Picture Show.” Now, THAT would be a show!
Actually, speaking of freaks, the last time I was in that showroom was when I ate mushrooms and went to that Burning Man First Friday afterparty in March. They had turned the Plaza showroom into a mini Burning Man, and me and my friends partied there until like 6am. Totally different crowd than the Best Little Whorehouse people!
Well anyhoo, I also worked taking souvenir photos at the show of a legendary gay British pianist, which was OK, and then I did another photo shoot over at the Palazzo, in one of the rooms. They are all suites over there, and they are NICE! It was probably one of the nicest hotel rooms I’ve ever done a photo shoot in — photographers, take note! Lots of artsy decor, and the lighting was cool, too. Now that it’s starting to get HOT, most of my photo shoots will be hotel rooms instead of desert Which is easier in a way, but not as fun.
One of the most interesting gigs I did this week was write a review of the Mob Attraction at the Tropicana. I had gone to the Mob Museum last month, so this website hired me to write a review comparing the two. I went in thinking there was no way the Mob Museum could be beaten…but I’m here to tell ya, the Mob Attraction was actually way cooler!!! They have these live actors strolling around in costume, acting like badass goombahs and whatnot, messing with you. I REALLY enjoyed it! The Mob Museum (even though it’s TOTALLY badass) comes off a little stuffy…but the Mob Attraction revels in the lowbrow, even featuring a bar in the middle. Ha!!! Both are super cool, though, and should be checked out by all.
Then it was time for the big Earth Day Blinking Man Bike Ride Pub Crawl! About 100 crazies from all over town cruised over to the dive bar by my house, and we all got liquored up for a night of riding around Vegas. Everyone had covered his bike in flashing lights and glowy stuff, so it was quite the parade once we got going. We cruised around to about 5 or 6 different bars, and it was a BLAST! I met one of my neighbors, this guy who thought everyone on his street hated him because he plays the drums too loudly. But I introduced him to the chick who’s president of the neighborhood association, and she assured him that no one hates him! Yay!!!
The next stop was at this gross dive bar called the 5th Street Pub — a real dive, with wood-paneled walls, pool tables, and a bunch of people sitting around driving Hennessey and playing video poker. I became friendly with the owner, and he took me into his office (also wood-paneled) to show me something. Shockingly, it was not his penis — just photos of his wife and mom and all the famous people he’d met over the years. FUN! That guy was a real character.
Then a friend of mine showed up, this guy I’ve been hanging out with here and there, but he brought his bike and was thus able to join the fray. We cruised around boozing until about 1am, then went to Tacos El Gordo, some divey little Mexican taco place down the street from my house. He was telling me I “had” to try this pork-covered french fry dish they serve, and drunk as I was I snarfed it up in no time. GROSS! Normally I *HATE* pork…especially when it’s glistening in sizzling fat…but when drunk, all bets are off. I lapped that shit up like a cumguzzling pornstar!
I atoned for my sins by going for a MONSTER hike in Red Rock Canyon with that same guy a few days later. We hiked to the top of Bridge Mountain, around 14 miles round trip, with something like 3500 feet elevation gain. It was EXHAUSTING! Normally I can hike with the best of ‘em, but my ass was KICKED by this hike. I highly recommend it — the views at the top are amazing. There’s supposed to be a natural stone bridge up there (hence its name), but we never found it, and got tired of looking. Then we hiked down, drove back to town, and sat in his car listening to music for about an hour. He has VERY eclectic taste in music, and he introduced me to the magic of Wesley Willis, this amazing schizophrenic black man from Chicago who used to record all these awful songs like “Suck a Caribou’s Asshole” and stuff. Call me immature, but I was DYING! That guy was a NUT! Apparently, because of his schizophrenia, he thought he could chase away the demons in his head by singing really awful, gross stuff…so that’s just what he did, backed by the cheesiest canned Casio music you’ve ever heard. It’s FABULOUS!
Anyhoo, after listening to music for awhile, I was STARVING and cruised over to In-N-Out Burger. So sue me — I just hiked 14 miles and burned 14.5 billion calories!!!!! I was halfway through my delicious Double Double when I saw on the news that there was a new Mad Cow Disease outbreak in California — d’oh!!!!!!!! I didn’t feel like stopping eating, though, so I went ahead and inhaled the rest of my burger. Yum!!
So anyway, onto the one skeevy gig I did this week: there’s a foot fetish party held every month down in this ghetto-ass swingers’ club in the Commercial Center, and I used to go all the time (I’m sure I’ve written about it before). Guys pay to get in, and girls sell 10-minute “sessions” with their feet for $20. The guys are allowed to lick, suck, sniff, massage, whatever — but there is no nudity nor any sexual contact allowed, and they’re pretty strict about it! I quit going after awhile because I wasn’t making any money — the guys were tired of me, or my feet aren’t smelly enough, or more likely, I just don’t hustle hard enough. But, seriously — the day I wheedle guys into sucking my toes is the day I get a REAL job! Seriously, this is why I can never be a stripper — I *SUCK* at getting money out of guys. My style is to sit back and wait for them to approach me….and it doesn’t work!
Last night at the foot party, I rolled in around 8pm after stopping at the gay bar next door for a fortifying cocktail. I chatted with one of my girlfriends for a while — this beautiful blonde, super-cool promo model I know who is not too proud to go to parties like this; she’s ALL about making money, moreso than any promo model I know! But then some guy took her back for a session, and she was pretty busy the rest of the night. I sat there chatting with this one asshat time-waster for a while, and FINALLY this big Jeff Bridges-lookalike came along and gave me $20 to suck my toes back in this one room that’s decorated to look like a gynecologist’s office. FUN!! In between slurping on my toes, he informed me that next to feet, he LOVES golden showers more than anything. Now, I don’t draw many lines…but that is one I refuse to cross!!!!! GROSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!! Other than that, he was a cool enough dude. I’m telling you, it really is just plain folks at those parties — you’d be surprised! I’ve had my toes sucked by teachers, prison guards, police lieutenants and even a middle-aged husband-and-wife team…EVERYONE goes there!
But, last night I was reminded of why I quit going: it’s too hard to make money, and too demeaning. Oh well! On to the next gig….which happens to be ANOTHER bachelor party that hired me off craigslist to prank the bachelor. This time, the setup is pretty weak — they just want to get him soooooo drunk that he passes out, and then have him wake up in a bed at Circus Circus with me beside him, looking all skanky and saying, “Wow, last night was AMAAAAAZING!” My idea was to at least add in a busted condom and some herpes sores or something, just to liven it up….I’m open to suggestions, people! This isn’t going down til May 6th or so, so if you have ideas, feel free to post them in the comments section below!!
On a final note, I occasionally get fan mail asking for a signed 8×10, and I am happy to oblige! However, when making such a request, the CLASSY thing to do is deposit a few bucks in my PayPal account to cover costs — I mean, come on! I gotta print out the picture, get an envelope, and mail it…the least ya can do it throw a few beans my way. End of Rant!