A TRAILER TRASHY HO SHOW
It's an inescapable fact of life that Jinkx (Monsoon, duh) and Ben (DeLaCreme, duh) and Dina (MARTINA! DUH!) and a scattered smattering of other Seattle queens seem to hog up all the glory and adulation around here. In the luminous face of such illustrious queens, you can see how easy it is for zillions of other hard-twerking drag queens and drag artists and drag performers and drag everything-else-ers to get swept under the beaded rug. So unfair! Unjust! Unconscionable! And therefore, let us spare a moment to consider one of our lesser celebrated—yet no less delightful—queens: the disreputable trailer-trash whore with the fuzziest potbelly in show business, who is known to the locals as Miss Honey Bucket.
Honey Bucket (pronounced "Bouquet," thank-you-very-much) claims lots of things, most of them outright lies. Among these: She was born in Las Vegas. (A likely story!) She claims to have grown up there, proper-whore-style, in a trailer park on Boulder Highway. As an ostensible little girl, she did things like dance around sluttishly to the dulcet strains of Solid Gold (her favorite!) and appear in Las Vegas Strip shows for little hos. (There is no God.) By high school (a miracle!), she started blowjobbing for a living, but mercilessly hoovered up all her profits (or so she says). One thing led to another, as one thing will, and she decided that the pristine Pacific Northwest was the change she needed (and, well, didn't we all?). Tonight, this "part-time Aurora ho and part-time ghetto-white-trash rap queen" and her belly fuzz and big, thick ho 'fro (plus special guests Cherry Sur Bête and Sashay Supernova) bring us a trash-stravaganza of live hiphop, R&B, soul, and abject depravity. "All I want out of life," she says, "is bears, weed, PBR tallboys, and an Israeli-Palestinian peace agreement!" And, of course, for you to come see her show. One night only! Trash guaranteed. Re-bar, 10 pm, $12, 21+.
SEE JAKE SLAP DICK—SLAP, JAKE, SLAP!
I've decided that Jake Shears is my new rock-star boyfriend, and we're pretty serious, so don't even TRY to lay one pink pinky on his bounce-a-quarter-off-this ass tonight or I'll kill you where you stand. He's guest DJing with Kevin Kauer (you know, DJ Nark) at tonight's Dickslap, and, I mean, you can come LOOK at him and dance and have Jell-O shots and everything, I guess, but BE WARNED: He's profoundly, insanely in love with me, so don't EVEN work my nerves. DON'T I DESERVE A FUCKING ROCK-STAR BOYFRIEND? DON'T I NEED LOVE LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE? Jesus Christ. The Eagle, 9 pm, $7–$10 (early arrival encouraged), 21+.
