by Adrian Ryan
April 24, 2015
Oh yes! No one speaks of “cruising” anymore, and that saddens me. Remember good old fashioned cruising?
You know: you’d be, like, walking down the street, or through the produce aisle, or tripping through the bushes at 3 AM for no good earthly reason, and you’d see a hot guy, right? Then you’d kind of look each other up and down – give it the old once over! – then take a step or two, turn around simultaneously (if you timed it right – cruising is all about timing it right!), and ten minutes later the two of you had joint bank accounts and splooge all over your faces?
Yeah, I miss cruising.
It’s the simple things that matter, after all. Like instant, public, anonymous, blow jobs. All you newfangled faggots with your twittergrams and instavines always Grindr-Scruffing your Snookies! You don’t know what you’re missing.
I say, let’s bring back cruising! Full stop! Also, glory holes. Where the hell have all the glory holes gone, anyway? I ask you. There used to be like ten glory holes per square foot around here! You couldn’t walk down Broadway without getting whacked in the forehead by 50 penises. But now…
A mystery. I blame Republicans. As an axiom.
Speaking of Republicans and surreptitious gay sexings: Isn’t it just scrumptious the way Republicans are already foaming at the mouths over Hillary? Oh HOW it fills my heart with glee! Not that I’m so into Hillary personally you understand, it’s just that anything that gives Republicans red-faced fits makes me giggle like a coked-up Care Bear. Besides, if she’s elected, she will make history as our country’s first lesbian president! Firmly in the closet, but still. Don’t believe me? Okay, listen…
A terrible rumor: One million years ago, someone I am quite close to and trust implicitly – a person who is not given to flights of fancy and/or scurrilous rumors, mind you! – worked with the Clinton administration. And he, or um, she maybe (possibly it), has maintained since then that it was a rather open secret that the Secret Service snuck real live women into the White House on a fairly regular basis to sate the First Lady’s thoroughly lesbionic appetites. It’s true! I swear! I’m not making this up!
Expecting a call from Fox News in three… two…
Quickly changing the subject: Did you hear? Hot on the heels of Mama Mia, Phantom of the Opera is coming to the Paramount Theatre! It’s true! So let’s all hurry and Hellen Keller ourselves with a nice ice pick while we still can! If I had a time machine, I’d do one thing: make sure Andrew Lloyd Webber’s parents never met. Or at least render them sterile somehow. Some kind of genital radiation beam or something?
Get on it, science! The world needs you!
The real question is, who is scheduling the Paramount’s season, and why are they trying to kill us all? WHY ARE THEY SO FULL OF HATE?
Speaking of full of hate: As you might know, next Wednesday, April 29th is the gala world premiere of the new Jinkx Monsoon drag-u-mentary Drag Becomes Him at Cinerama! It’s been filming for the last thirty thousand years and has built up quite a head of steam, so they are really doing it up: VIP red carpet reception, live performances, on-stage interviews, and a big after party blowout! Of course, I won’t be there because I will be across town appearing in Carlotta’s Late Night Wing Ding (special haunted edition) at Theatre Off Jackson, which I’ll have you know was a simple matter of over booking myself and has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that even though I was the first alleged “journalist” to profile Jinkx Monsoon EVER (and have subsequently covered every nanosecond of her career) and the film still chose to completely and totally ignore me and not even ask me for a single lousy comment or ANYTHING. HONESTLY. Nothing to do with that at all.