Cabaret hybrid L.A. style

My pal and fierce dancer/choreographer/aerialist Miss Liza Rose is part of this urban slick jazz cabaret with dames called the Toledo show down in Santa Monica on sunday nights. Somehow when downtown comes to L.A. it gets cleaner and better dressed. I have always thought live music was the shit in L.A.... the bands are tighter, the chicks/dudes are tighter...everyone is bright and clean and slick -- even at the loft parties downtown. In NYC live music so erratic and often screechingly bad or just ill produced with condoms stuck to the bottom of your feet and you go like WHY? Why did I pay 10 bucks for this loud shadowy shit? So as much as I bitch about how everything takes five millions years in l.a. and no one goes out, and the only difference between rich people and poor here is how nice their TV's are.... I gotta hand it to the live musicians and performers. They're cookin' . And usually color coordinated.

Lucy Lawless is no Kylie Minogue (thank god.)

So I go to see my friend Michele Balan do her act at Girl Bar's Friday night comedy and cocktails thingy and wouldncha know it 2 comics don't even show up so like one of those slow motion things in the movie where everyone first looks sideways and then slowly turn their heads together, guess who gets asked to fill in last minute with gynocentric comedy that is inclusive yet true to the pansexual bon vivant I endeavour to be? Yup. I get up on stage in my silver leather jacket and culottes, now completely self conscious about my relative lack of makeup--why do i do this??? Why do I think- no one will see, no one will care, especially lesbians! And then always end up in a situation where just a little more attention to shading and color would have helped immensely. Who do I think I am in my neutral lipgloss when shit like this always happens? (please refer to my candid shot with Anna Nicole where I look like a fuckin benched softball player, or as my mom would say shrilly "A chinese cabbage you look like a cabbage!" I wonder why chinese cabbage and not polish or midwestern...anyways.)

Just so happens that this is Girl Bar's 15th anniversary and the very lovely and fabulous couple of Sandy and Robin who own the joint have thrown a doozy of a party. The far too sexy to be allowed to wander into places sans entourage Jenny Shimizu walks in way after the comedy, and I step to her because I love where she goes "I am a power lesbian of looooovvve" on the LOGO promo that runs every fifteen seconds when I am worshipping at the late night temple of Graham Norton. And I also love the gay marriage show on there it makes me cry and cry. Which isnt suprising given my own parents' "gay marriage" (bomb dropped let's move on.)

So anyway I have no business posting a picture of myself with la supermodel looking this aesthetically inept (rouge anyone? eye shadow? an angle or something????Look how me and robin are crowding in on js's perfect complexion- it is shameful.) But this is the kulturefuk blog so fuk it. There will be far sadder ones I am sure. Plus I have to say when L.A. people are actually cool and delightful to hang out with you gotta appreciate.

Lucy Lawless comes on the stage -- and everyone on the dancefloor comes in their cargos -- she is blonde now and quite fiercely attired in gold shimmery wife beater and jeans. I would like to say that she brandished the mic like a pro on herversions of "Sisters Are Doing it for themselves" and an original song about sucking the industry's dick called "On my Knees." (would I lie?)
I would like to say that she sounded awesome, but instead I will show you a pic.

Why oh why, why oh why is this sort of thing necessary? Why struggle? I suppose former soap star turned gay dance icon Kylie Minogue serves as inspiration for hotties like Lucy. But seriously. David Hasselhoff made this sort of thing fun, once. And only in France and Germany where they are used to being screamed at by drunk ass punk rock and metal bands with lead singers that look like they sleep in a can of coffee grounds. And Kylie has to act like and dress like a slut every waking minute to justify radio presence. Lucy is way too cool and of intense presence to get away with shaking her ass to sell candy pop. And she was singing a kind of 80s taylor dane rock with no taylor and no dane. sigh. "But Can They Sing?" um, no. Your whole show is redundant. And scary. And a reminder that charity events are supposed to relieve suffering not cause it.

Of course I salute Lucy for having the balls to get up and sing when she is clearly more of a weapon brandishing straight girl turned lesbian icon in leather gauntlets. And I salute all the Bai Lings and Morgan Fairchilds for putting their ahem, reputations, on the line to belt out a few bars. But this is only because I am a celebrity whore and want my fantasy family to be happy. In the real world we don't applaud when someone does something badly, but with heart. Except william hung. And Condaleeza. And tyra banks, hostess/improv actor. Ok maybe we do. But seriously we gotta raise the bar. And demand that our celebs do like everyone else and find shit they are good at, then stick to it. I am all for the stretching of actors and the murder of typecasting. This mini concert was an argument for typecasting and that is why amateurish outings like this must be stopped. For the advancement of human kind. And so that when someone who actually can multi-perform, like latifah, or jamie foxx or I dunno, ME, nobody is scared off by memories of Xena singing a blowjob song in a lesbian bar. This is why Anna Nicole (see previous post) is a beacon of hope. And why Lucy L. needs to a) get more training before she inflicts scary karaoke on us again or b) embrace her genius for ululating and acting ambiguously gay and fuckin give us more of that.

How dumb is Anna Nicole Really?

Not very. And not just because I have spent this whole week working on my hustle by day and acting like a sycophantic ultimate fan contestant by night. These things do not necessarily go together as any relatively unknown but highly ambitious e-junkie and art whore will tell you. It can be eviscerating to go out and see the superstars when your unpublished work of genius gathers dust on your agent's to do later pile, or while your fabulous acting chops go untested in the real world. It can kill ya to hang with Anna Nicole, but my spa day zenned me out enough to do it. And she was charming by the way.

If you show up for stuff, L.A. can be like a fantasy football type of tour of Universal Studios minus the funnel cakes. I got in on Friday after a short semi arduous flamenco dancing audition at Lincoln Center with Broadway luminaries Graciela Daniele and Michael John La Chiusa who are super hot talented creators of the last vestige of hope for the Great American Musical. And I did stomp and clap with the likes of Julia Murney thinking what the frick am I doing here???? Is this a good idea?

Got off a plane 6 hours later and into the car to drive to Palm Springs for a much needed one night spa extravaganza and show with my BFF Debbie. After the orange blossom detox scrub and massage we look at each other and are like "Holy Shit I feel totally different". And I did. And I do.

Drove back to L.A. where my friend and journo Caroline Ryder is brandishing 2 ticks to Wedrock and Avalon, the fundraiser for gay marriage lobbyists Freedom to Wed. We have press passes but somehow get mistaken for part of Kelly Osborne's entourage and end up with the pink celeb all access bracelets which we nonchalantly accept without a word proceeding to the photo sess where we run into the always efervescent Alan Cumming, and my old Juilliard pal Louis Schwadron, rock n roll french horn player (who will later tryst with Caroline and thus end her first lez phase). Also there are Bitch, whom I run into every time John Cameron Mitchell throws a do in New York, her GF Daniela C of the L-Word, Margaret Cho looking very fly in a women's health center hoodie with vagina embroidery, and whom I adore but always say something stupid to ( I think it is my destiny to act retarded around Koreans). Also there is Doogie Howser/ Neil Patrick Harris whose potential gayness Caro quizzes me on--who cares is my answer--ditto Pink who is up in balcony, and Andy Bell who sings his ass off and deserves his rock / electro god status. Nina Hagen brings everyone to their knees with a screaming basso goth punk rendition of Ave Maria and Kelly O does a very sweet yay for gay marriage and whoop whoop fuck the establishment speech.

We cap the night in the Spider lounge with Eliza Rose the fierce aerialist from Brooklyn whose show Toledo is cranking modern punk cabaret in Santa Monica on Sundays and she obliges all with a little pole dance. Caroline and Louis bewilder everyone by leaving in her car, which by default leaves me with Louis' L.A. producer slick in a t-shirt friend who drags me over to a club with "Playmates" who are totally played out, and all need boob jobs if that really is their chosen profession.

The next night is bitchy bingo at Hambuger Mary's which Lisa Ann is calling ("69 good time!") and which Anna Nicole Smith attends with all her gorgeousness and sweetness. Not as dumb as she looks on T.V. And I am not just saying that because I wish I was a blonde with big boobs . Drunky Mc Drunk? Yes. Inarticulate, no. Also she gives photo opps to about a zillion people in the bar and dances tango with her Arthur Murray instructor Anthony of Houston who is cute as hell. She looks good in every single one of those candid pics (damnnnnnnn you anna nicole!) and even though i look like i have eaten 2 pounds of MSG and am retaining so much water you could pierce me to create a live feng shui face fountain, i dont give a shit because my inner fag is screaming "This is Anna Nicole Smith!!! This is Anna Nicole" and I am in celebrity fucker, pop culture vulture heavennnnnnn. God that hat was supposed to look cool. I swear at some moment it did. Plus her entourage is very cool and gay and part canadian so all in all it is the perfect night of fag hagging/ acting out my inner gayguy. Everybody is always hating on Anna Nicole. Oh my god DBJ. She has recognized her talent. Looking good in photos and dancing like a stripper. What is the problem people? Do you want to see your high school gym teacher do that? Do you want me to do that? No I think not. The nation must be protected from the inappropriate old lady pole dancing for fitness classes and the sad studio photo with rose and piano in the vestibule after kids leave for college. Anna is keeping America safe by fulfilling her destiny. To get wasted in a fag bar and dance the night away posing for pics with the less pretty and enjoying her aesthetically gifted flow. I salute Anna Nicole for her general good mood and acceptance of her duty to go out and look pretty and get trashed without resenting the less cute who want to get a photo of themselves making out with her in a booth for a second.