Jeff Tessler, owner of the Manhole, phoned me up about "something-or-other," and I realized I hadn't been to the bar since Mookie left. Is that right Mookie, are you really writing medical books for an Indian/Pakistani doctor? My problem with the Manhole is that I'm a tired old queen and it's a late-night bar. So I had to take along Simplesse Del Rio to slap me every so often and keep me awake. He's a good slapper ...
The dancefloor area of the Manhole has a dress code, either leather jacket or bare-chested. It's definitely a boys chest bar, so if you like bare-chested men—and some of them were just exquisite dolls!!—go to the Manhole about 12.30 - 1 a.m. Fridays and Saturdays are particularly hot and sweaty. I'd offer to come with you, but I need my beauty sleep ... a LOT of beauty sleep.
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Jeremy over at the Alley wants to start a really offensive, obnoxious, in-your-face, queer-core band called Rotten Fruits; a cross between the Exploited, the Sex Pistols, and Pansy Division. If you can imagine this and think it would be fun, then contact Jeremy at 773-508-7203 or email him at Blackflag77@aol.com
You're going to need a sense of humor to be in this band, and you must have an evil lust for chaos. Jeremy has already told me what he wants for a t-shirt design and I think it's a revolting idea, and against everything I stand for politically ... so Jeremy, I'd like to order three in XL, all black with a purple design. Okay? And when the band plays its first gig, I want you on stage playing "Anarchy In The UK" while I stand at the front and burn the British flag. He knows that I'll do it too ...
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Scot's was decorated with Chinese lanterns and fans when I dropped in last week. It's my neighborhood bar. Mark, the bartender, told me it was for Chinese New Year, "Tom ( Scot ) loves to decorate," he said, "He does something for all the holidays. Mardi Gras is next." I'm wondering what Tom does for Secretary's Day; maybe he wears a nice little Navy blue suit, drop pearl earrings and black pumps. He's still got his girly figure. Oh, and congrats to Tom and Bill on their 24th wedding anniversary.
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People keep asking me, "Where's the Vampire Lady?" Well, Lynda Licina is still undead and rotting happily here in Chicago. She is, however, recovering from a near-life experience: pneumonia. I've been very worried about it, but although she is still quite frail, we recently went out for dinner to D'Agostino's. "I was delirious for several days," she told me. ( How could she tell? ) "I'm going crazy with daytime talk-show TV. I had to get out of the house. The doctor said it'll be March before I get back to normal."
"You look horribly thin and pale," I said, "Like death warmed up, like you're in that Hellish limbo land inhabited by Zombies and other manifestations of the living dead. Looking at your face now I feel the vomit rising in my throat, and I fear for my own mortality ... "
Lynda reached across the table, squeezed my hand and said, "Oh thank you sweetie, you're the only person in the world who makes me feel good about myself. You're the only person who recognizes what I really am ... a corpse."
Now, can I schmooze with a vampire, or what?
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Yes, I do sell copies of my digital photographs from Nightlines/WCT. They're $10 for an 8" X 10" but—here's the catch—I have to like the picture. Phone me at Windy City Times 773-871-7610 and leave a message and phone number on my voicemail.
