Posts Tagged ‘robert williams’

Saturday

dancing for an AIDS benefit at the Park West

Tribute to Armando party


Saturday was a very very long day for me. Being at the Park West Theater all day to do a dress rehearsal then do 2 two-hour shows back to back was really rough. This was a very big event with some of the top choreographers and performers in the city, with elaborate set pieces and costumes. There were 85 performers crammed into 2 tiny rooms and I believe some people had trailers. It felt like being in a slave ship, and I don’t think I sat down once in the 12 hours I was there. The one good thing was that there were bars in the dressing rooms, with free liquor! The bad thing was I refused to drink, being that I had too much dancing to do and I couldn’t afford to fuck up. Most everyone else was guzzling away like they were going to rehab the next day, and I couldn’t help but shake my head at the irony of it all. I’m usually the one pasted to the bar.

The show was fantastic, and the Park West was packed for both performances. It was 1am and I wanted to go home and sleep, but I still had to go to the party on 75th for hosting duties. Before that I drop off magazines at Cuatro and Sonotheque then head south, bedraggled in old jeans, t-shirt and melted showgirl makeup. The music at 75th was awesome, and then I quickly stopped by 71st Street to wish Robert Williams a happy birthday. I am a walking corpse and my bed is calling me like a long lost lover. Zzzzzzzz

Ballerinos, Killer Rehearsals and More Detox

Thursday night I go to the Harris Theater to see the world-renowned Les Ballets Trockaderos de Monte Carlo, a troupe made up of men who dress up as ballerinas and do all the women’s parts in pointe shoes. I had a marvelous time, these men were beautiful, funny as hell and gave a great show. Friday I see my accupuncturist Dr. Feng, as my stripper pole arms are still in massive pain. I then go to a dance rehearsal for a show at the Park West, and our choreographer has us rolling around on the ground, doing drop splits, shoulder stands and random acrobatics. Ouch. Later on I go to hear Vic Lavender and Anthony Nicholson at Sonotheque, then go to see my beloved Frankie Knuckles at Zentra. My favorite friends Robert Williams, bitchy Andre Hatchett, Craig Loftis, Judge and Fredrick Dunsen were all there. They finally put up a gate by the DJ booth so that retards would stop going up to bug Frankie.

Trockaderos de Monte Carlo
This raw food detox is really killing me, because if I do any kind of clubbing/partying, my body takes 10x longer to recover. I need to remember I’m detoxifying from poisons and cooked food and smoke and bad energy. Sunday I have yet another rehearsal for another choreographer. I’m dying because I’ve been fasting for 2 days. Later than night I have to drop off magazines at 6 different clubs, north and south, given that it’s a big party night with MLK holiday tomorrow. I was tempted to go to Ron Carroll and Barbara Tucker’s party at 720, but I felt like I was going to pass out. So after driving everywhere around Chicago, I cook my man a giant bowl of garlic fried rice and steak, me nothing, then pass out in my lovely lovely bed. Sweet Dreams.

5 Magazine November Release Party and a Tirade from a Tired Editor

Daryl Pandy, Wayne Williams, Slugo and Farley

November Release Party @ The Dating Game

with Parrish Wintersmith of Groove Junkies

On Sunday evening, we had our 5 Mag November issue release party at the Dating Game. It was Emanuel’s night and he got Terry Hunter to guest DJ alongside him. My car was packed with traditional northside going heads, and they got to experience the Dating Game for the first time. A lot of heads came and showed love: Farley, Wayne Williams, Andre Hatchett, Robert Williams, Slugo, Gant-Man, Russoul, Unified Records, Chicago House Radio and more. Terry and Emanuel beat it and we all had a wonderful time.

Tuesday I interview The Sound Republic guys at Jun Bar for the December issue, then later help host Phatman’s new House night at Club 720. Wednesday my man has a new residency at Wicker Park’s Celebrity, then Thursday we hit up Visionz, Wax and see the always fabulous Groove Junkies at Smart Bar.

SIDE NOTE:
* I am still CONSTANTLY being approached by wack industry losers, HARASSING me as to “Why is my picture not in the magazine???” Like I intentionally kept their picture from being in it. (We pick what’s best, what came out good, what’s most appropriate at that time. ) One bartender that services me got all drunk and stupid and yelled at me for not putting his picture and BIO in the magazine!!! Can you believe that??? That’s not to mention all the other people that are on my ass about their picture: bathroom attendants, valets, barbacks, local club whores and assorted other losers who think a picture in my magazine will somehow validate their pointless existence. GET OFF MY ASS.

People wanting to be on the cover will get a separate blog entry. Hey guys! Helpful hint! START YOUR OWN GODDAMN MAGAZINE AND LET THE POOR GIRL HAVE A DRINK! Jeez.

Amazing Success

The show of BADDEST BITCH last Wednesday was an astounding success. The venue is gorgeous with its lights and sound system, tons of friends and new people came, and the energy was on 10 the whole night. David Sabat spun an amazing opening and closing set, and people really really loved the show. It was a wonderful thing to have so many folks respond to it, and everyone plans on coming back! Lego and Ricky Bradshaw, whose music I used in the show were there, Robert Williams, Ronda Flowers and Koko, as were everyone in the House community. We are featured and highly recommended by The Reader, Time Out (2x), Windy City Times and Red Eye. Hope to see you guys at the last show this Wednesday. :)

Saturday Man Massage

Friday night I do the usual club drops and end up at Lego’s party at Darkroom. It was an awesome party with all the regular Green Dolphin heads near the DJ booth. Afterwards I tried to go to Zentra, but there was a power outage around the whole area and what a mess it was. Raining cats and dogs, everyone standing outside trying to get their cars, valets scampering around like cockroaches and everything in a gridlock. I got out of there quick. Then suddenly Andre Hatchett and Ojay call me and tell me to come over for another private 67th street drink and gossip fest. I rush down there amidst 50 million “where the hell are you?” calls from the already wasted hosts. Andre is beyond drunk, and Ojay is trying to feed him a live watermelon to calm his belligerent ass down. Willie was not having it and I had to drag Andre’s overserved self back home.

Saturday night I hit up more clubs and meet my 2 dancer friends at the Generator. I am super sad so being in a gay club is my prozac.

I hit up Robert Williams’ party on 38th, then go to the 4-bang (or is it now 5-bang?) outdoor party on 92nd and Clyde. Ojay kept telling me that this party was insane and she wasn’t kidding. Picture a block party with House music and lots of drunken southsiders. But the big treat of the night was the hot-man massage/manicure/pedicure station… yes, hot black men rubbing down your feet, doing your nails, rubbing your back… for free! I jump on a chair and tell daddy to go to town!

I then drive back to the Generator and in my state the hip-hop doesn’t even faze me. I start singing along to Beyonce and Jay-Z while modelling with the drag queens. It’s a party with no straight men in sight. Love it.