Dim parking lot. Am I gay?
Last night Jason Sechrest, porn publicist, reality tv actor, cabaret star, and all around wag shelled out $300 to sponsor the evening and promote his site, Jasonscurious. He had visited PSK before and sung a song from (Cabaret? Chicago?) and treated the audience to his best eight minutes of heterophobic straight-bashing standup, accusing us all of wanting to hit him with baseball bats. I couldn't imagine someone wanting to hit with a baseball bat a man possesssing that talent. I thought:
Defending a crooning chanteuse. Am I gay?
I had come from another event where micro-flutes of Jagermeister went for nine bucks, so I was happy to get Sardo's pre-chilled paint can full of G-d's Chosen Drink for $6. Onstage was Sechrest in a velveteen cowboy hat and eyeliner riffing on how straight Hollywood is really gay Hollywood.
I went outside to talk with Tod-Hunter about how he will soon be the master of his own domain and will get out of the dot-net ghetto in which he has been struggling so nobly. He did not bow his head and say, almost inaudibly, "It is my secret shame." He hipped me to the science that both Deep Throat and Inside Deep Throat will be playing at the New Beverly later this month. Imagine seeing Deep Throat on the big screen? He then told me the movie times for every cinema in Los Angeles County and the Inland Empire, along with stats on ticket prices, floor stickiness and the adhesion of the Little Hunters' sneakers to same. I thought:
Animated conversation and warm regard for my fellow man. Am I gay?
We were joined by Keiko, who cares deeply for Tod-Hunter. Keiko now has the most fantastic red hair ever. I have a friend who likes to say, "We would be so making out if we were in high school right now" to women who would never make out with him in either high school or the present. That is the way Keiko looked; like she would walk into study hall, make a casual comment about my friend's Echo and the Bunnymen bookcover and lunchbox set, smile, walk away, never talk to him again, and break his heart forever.
Naturally, Keiko and I talked about Visa merchant accounts for keikosworld.com. "They're too expensive," she said. "They limit memberships to my site." Visa merchant accounts are something liuke 700 bucks. You can't catch a break with those guys. I didn't suggest iBill because I like Keiko. Tod-Hunter suggested she open the Bank of Keiko. I would like to use the ATM there.
(Whew. I'm not gay.)
The only place I've ever walked down the middle of the street with a drink is New Orleans, and we were not there, so I was about to go back inside and get my drink when Wankus came out.
I have known Wankus for about a year, since when I guested on a KSEX show. He's a goddamn nice guy. He wears a Red Sox hat. He's a smart ass. He used to coach Little League. He used to be a Transformer (that doesn't mean he fucked Nacho Vidal, it just means that he was either/or more than meets the eye/a robot in disguise). He is going to be hosting the XRCO awards later this year and people are complaining about it. I asked:
"Wankus, why do people hate you?"
We discussed several reasons why people might hate him. I dismissed them all as gay.
(Oh shit. How would I know?)
Wankus mentioned a stunt he is going to throw at the awards which sounds pretty funny but he asked me not to spoil the surprise. I'll just say it involves telekinesis and a bucket of pig's blood.
Self-Hating Lew, who is celebrating his birthday month, stood by speaking into his hand, which he had painted to look like a tape recorder. With Tod-Hunter right behind us, notebook in hand, the scene became like a multi-angle commentary track on a DVD no one will rent.
"Hey! I read your blog!" Wankus protested. Yes. That is why you should host the XRCO awards and get a new KSEX studio made entirely of diamonds, Remy-Martin, and vaginas.
SHL gave me a copy of his self-published book which he inscribed "To Gram with Respect". What a prankster, that guy. He is at this moment coordinating with my ex-wife to reveal my real name and in talks with Russia to drop a satellite on my house. He has also stolen some of my chickens and sprayed his gang's graffiti tags on my garbage cans. He threatens to destroy my wholesome relationship with Lisa Sparxxx.
An Amazon review says of XXX-Communicated: "(Self-Hating Lew) found a niche for his monosyllabic style of writing on the Internet, where the demand for stylized, intelligent writing is very low indeed."
This is what I say to people who feel that Internet writing can't be stylized or intelligent:
Until Amazon.com comes out with a quarterly literary print journal, you can't slam how bad Internet writing is while typing a free review on a website. P.S. Please ping me with a link to your Facts of Life fan fiction site OMG LOL :>.
I went back inside and Jason Sechrest was talking about how straight men want to blow him. I thought:
Is Jason Sechrest gay?
Lisa Sparxxx, who needs to quit the world of escorting and 50-man gang bangs and come live with me and Iphigenia Squirtz and learn what it means to be really dirty, was going on her third hour of being the hottest woman in the room. I told her I needed to take a non-blurry picture. Prior to that, she had been having a heated discussion with a guy who may have beeen Nipsy Russell.
"Do you need a mediator?" I asked. "I'm a professional mediator."
"I think I need a mediator," the man replied.
"I will be over here eating cake."
Which once again brings us back to why Porn Star Karaoke kicks ass. Last night it was porn-screenwriter Fozzi's birthday and he got a huge cake that he passed out to everyone. Unlike Office Space, everyone got some cake.
Everyone gets cake at Porn Star Karaoke, even if you're straight.