Old Dear, Part Two


Darlings, I’m working on my mrpeenee’s Fifth Anniversary Gala Dragaplooza: Cinco or Swim, but first just a quick note about how terribly amusing it was to have my dear old sistah in the house.  We were immensely cultured, hitting three museums: the Man Ray/Lee Miler show (so-so, actually bordering on dull,) the Jean Paul Gaultier show (tremendously fabulous) and the Cindy Sherman retrospective (even more tremendously fabulous.)  We also embraced our true low brows by thrashing a number of thrift stores.  I am proudly sitting in a only-slightly-rickety desk chair we snagged for $7.40. While at a rather upscale venue called, simply, Stuff, I was sucked into the groove of the sound system’s Aretha Franklin Rock Steady.  I spun around from a particularly hip shakin’ bit and came face to face with the owner who seemed sort of stunned, as people so often are when exposed to my dancing.  And did that faze Magda?  No it did not.

Truly, it was a wonderful time and I fully expect my enhanced, exaggerated Southern accent to calm back down soon, now that the old dear isn’t around to egg it on.

Bless her.

About mrpeenee

A former bon vivant and terror of a number of New Orleans bars in the mad, gay 1980s, I'm now quietly retired and widowed in San Francisco. I have a crooked nose due to an unfortunate Frisbee accident.

11 responses »

  1. Where did you and Magda go for those mud pack facials?? I may need to get one the next time I need to convince my neighbors not to sing — that is, throttle the shit out of some good song — in the shower at 4 am.


  2. I see what you mean. Sort of “Whatever Happened to Baby Jane” meets the song “Science Fiction, Double Feature” and the film “Clash of the Titans” (the Harry Hamlin when-he-was-hot version).

    Very strange, yet repulsively arousing.


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