Our hopes for a Billy Ocean guilty pleasures party at last Wednesday's Good Times at Eastern Bloc were met with an ocean of rain from the heavens up above. Of course, that didn't stop the gents of New York City from coming out and cuddling up to me playing Abba on repeat (guilty pleasure!)
Staring the evening and the blogging off on the right foot this week.
Sometimes when you hear guilty pleasures like songs from Tanya Donelly and Belly, all you can do is laugh and feed the trees.
Showing off his big jumbrellea.
Such a nice tan and haircut and well-groomed mustache on the right. He must be on holiday from San Francisco.
Please let this white frames trend die as quickly as it has started.
I'm guessing her guilty pleasure is George Michael's Father Figure, the one on the left loves They Might Be Giants and dude in the center is getting ready to request Liza with a Z.
Awwww. Someone's wants to be your lovah, lovah, loverboyyyy.
See no evil, hear no evil, and by hear no evil, I mean I didn't play any Lady Gaga this week. (Super secret guilty pleasure.)
Mr. Miller (right, with photographer Kelvin) is back from being a radical faerie wherever those things happen and is looking for paid non-nudity work.
To the tune of Donna Lewis' I Love You, Always Forever (very very very guilty pleasure.)
Young handsome devils, wondering why I'm insisting on playing R. Kelly back to back with Shakespeare's Sister.
STOP THE PRESS! WHO'S THAT? VICKI VALE.
Gary (left) with an incredibly excitable friend, probably cuz his Geri Halliwell guilty pleasure is exactly the same as mine.
Mark (left) and Eric, separated at birth.
This is how excited every queen in the Pines looked last Friday when I did their Friday night underwear party. I'm back at the Pavillion this Friday for high tea at 7pm.
Santi (left) and Steven, waiting for a change of heart. It just takes a beat. By the way, I invited Cazwell to do a Cyndi Lauper party with me cuz he lurrrrrrves Cyndi but he wanted to do something more "image appropriate" (aka hip hop).
Meanwhile, DJ Sugartitz is joining me June 24 for Bobby O night (gag!) and Nita on July 1 for britpop party part deux. She's so high!
SAVE SHAQUANDA! Andre (right) has recently threatened to pull the plug on his drag alter ego so we are starting a protest and petition.
A major Shaquanda pose. She's just ACHING to come out of Andre. Nobody puts Shaquanda in a closet, Andre.
Creepy bunny ears crawling up behind this trichromatic trio.
Thumbsucking, pearl eating, sneering and snarling Good Times.
Get it Steven!
Afterwards, the four of us headed to Le Raunch at the Hose, which is now called No Raunch because the health dept. shuttered the sex den that was the backroom. Booooooooooooooo.
Walk it out Evans! Put the bass in your walk!