Of course we are.
Which leads to another little tip: Never, but NEVER, insult a GAY BAR in print. EVER. It's like pissing on the Shroud of Turin. I haven't been able to go within two blocks of Changes in Wallingford (et al.) since March of '98.
Speaking of tragic gay bars: Did I forget to tell y'all that I personally saw AJ from American Idol at Neighbours three weeks ago? Oops. Well, to tell the gospel truth, a fistful of fruitcakes flounced up to tell me that the whole place was abuzz over his presence. But I didn't actually see AJ per se.
You try picking someone with highlights out of a crowd of fairies.
"Archie" writes, "I'm sure everyone's got a Dave Matthews story, so here's mine: Dave (and wife) took a late lunch at the icon Grill. He was chill, signed a couple of autographs. Nice guy."
Yes, everyone has a Dave Matthews story-- except me. This has led me to deduce that Dave's deliberately avoiding me, or we're actually the same person. I'll keep you posted.
While we're on the subject of Dave Matthews: Astute D. M.-loving readers have lovingly sent me every lovely scrap of Dave M. dish extant. Together we've discovered that Our Little Philanthropist is doing a November 7 solo gig at EMP to be aired on World AIDS Day (December 1), that he's promised to guest on Late Night with Conan O'Brien in December, that he drinks beer and picks his nose, and that he's holed up in a Seattle studio recording tracks for a secret solo album. But let me deal with Dave Matthews, célébrité; let Kathleen Wilson (bless her heart) handle Dave Matthews, musicien.
Since I've mentioned everyone else at this rag: Miss Dan Savage has been telling me that I need to start submitting my weekly dish to some nonsense called "Page Six" (www.pagesix.com). Of course, I never listen to a word Dan says. But when my darling friend Wm. Trademark Humphrey ("I Love Television") insisted that he read some hi-fucking-larious Leonard Nimoy story on "Page Six" this week, I rushed to check it out. But as far as I can tell, "Page Six" is just a sad gaggle of shallow gossip hacks desperately trying to rip off my style, and try as I might, I couldn't find a darn THING about Old Pointy Ears (whatchu talkin' 'bout Humpy?). Page Six, indeed!
