Friday, May 15, 2009
Don't Be Tardy for the Party!
You can judge a city's economic solvency by the state of its homosexuals. Walking up Seventh Avenue in Chelsea on Tuesday evening, I saw some tired looking gays, I mean SAD queens. Their once- potent muscles drooping, sallow, pallid complexions. I even saw a man wearing a denim OUTFIT (jean jacket and jean pants, slightly contrasting shades) and I thought, "Where the hell am I? This sure looks like a recession to me, Tim Geitner!" But all is not lost in the world, because 'Lil Joe threw a Real Housewives party for all the girls in celebration of the New York casts' reunion and the New Jersey casts' premier, one door closing, one giant anus opening.
I pulled a total Kelly, and was the first housewife at the party, with nary a bottle of anything, faux pas upon faux pas. We were instructed to dress up as out fave Housewife, but only Pup (far right) was up to the task. Here he is, dressed up as Simon, on whom he harbors a major crush.
Dan (in plaid, so butch) took the joke quite literally, unable to differentiate that Pup isn't Simon, he only dressed up like Simon. He flounced about all evening with his wrists akimbo, making demands such as: "Darling, freshen my drink. Mama doesn't like to be parched at a party!"
Dan admonished pseudo- Simon: "Girl, your apartment renovation is so gay it looks like the dressing room at Diva's on Polk Street!"
Pup was so embarrassed, he hadn't meant to take his costume that far, but if it walks like a Simon, and talks like a Simon....
Anyway, we watched, we drank SkinnyGirl Margaritas, we barfed. I shushed people the whole time, because I'm on Team Zarin.
Fags and and the women who love them, or hags. Two girls for every boy!