Thursday, June 25, 2009


Last night, David and I wended our way down to the East Village to Nowhere Bar for Charlie Vazquez's Panic! reading series. Nowhere Bar is a great little dive, with amazing three dollar drink specials. The crowd is a mix of bears, otters, and wolves...but the East Village Indie Punk sorta furry guys as opposed to the "I Might Eat You and Masturbate with Your Juices" Bears that hang out at the Ramrod.

The crowd last night was spectacular. At the first Panic! I attended, there was a smallish crowd that filled up about a quarter of the bar. Last night, the crowd was standing room only. Double Pride Panic! was packed. The reading started off a little slowly, but there was a great mix of men and women, all of whom were people of color. Charlie was being a bit of a bugaboo by not telling us where we would be in the line up...but that added to part of the charm of the evening. Of especially fantastic interest were Vincent Bernard, Taylor Siluwe, and Rosalind Lloyd.

Let me tell you, Rosalind read a story about a hot tranny, and the story was so damn steamy that my ass got moist. Yes lord.

I took the stage last to the cheers of new and old friends: Reggie and Steve Herrick from the Rookies, Shelly from Camp Heartland, my new fave person Allison, my old school gal pal/soul sister/co-fried chicken fiend Shante "Paradigm" Smalls, the delicious and sweet Karlo Karlo, and, of course, my love David "Good Booty" Berube.

By the time I got up in front of the crowd, folks were feeling good...the drinks had been flowin' for about an hour...and at $3 a pop...the crowd was fairly lit up and jolly. I started off by reading my poem inspired by the struggles of Chief Joseph. My set started comically as I went to flip the page to finish the first poem, and the pages stuck together. I didn't realize it and thought I had just lost a damn page...I stared blankly for a second...and then said, "Huh...I seem to have lost my poem." It was then that David started yellin' from the crowd..."The pages are stuck together."

I checked it out, and sure enough, there was the missing page. Thanks David!

I was feeling pretty jolly myself by the time I took the stage, so I was cracking jokes in between poems and tellin' bawdy stories about butts and dicks and the like. You know, the usual. I followed Chief Joseph with my ode to Nicole..."Love Poem" then I swung on through to "Christmas Eve Eve Morning," which is a poem I wrote about just how good my baby is in the sack...and, of course, I ended with "Mixed Emotions." (You can listen to Mixed Emotions by clicking on the Ninja in the side bar of my blog).

The crowd went crazy. For a minute, I thought somebody behind me was showin' their titties or doing live porn. When I realized they were clapping and whistling for me, I did my usual: I bolted from the stage. Afterwards, folks said very nice things about my reading...including several people that said that I was a "comedian," and I needed to do stand up.

Too bad when I try to be funny I turn into Fozzie Bear. Wakka wakka bitches.

The highlight of the reading was when the publisher and founder of Velvet Mafia, a press that focuses on queer erotica, approached me and said that he wanted to talk business. How about that?

After the show ended, David and I hung out with my new pal Karlo. Karlo is a super sweet human being that has a very gentle spirit. I met him at the Sol Awards of the Hispanic AIDS Forum a couple of weeks ago. We rode the train home together, where I regaled him and Titi Carlos with stories of Hot Daddy.

David and I ended the night with a special house guest, but David gets mad if I kiss and I shan't put the delicious, sweet, and fun details on I would like to actually have sex with my boyfriend again before the Second Coming. Coming. Get it? Wakka wakka...

Thank you to all you lovin' and awesome folks that came out last night and showed all the artists in the show some love. A special thank you to Mr. Charlie Vazquez for having the reading series and lettin' a little old Midwestern gal such as myself up in the mix.

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