Fork on the Left, Knife in the Back by Michael Musto

Author:Michael Musto
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781497645844
Publisher: Open Road Media

Madonna’s Uncut Boy Toy and Other Short-Attention-Span Delights

CHECK YOUR ATTENTION SPANS at the door and dive on these quick bites, which I assure you will add up to a richly rewarding meal that you’ll never forget. (Vomit bag not included.)

First off, Tony nominee and screen legend Jane Fonda will be thrilled to know that I just peed on her! See, I went to an affair at a veterans’ social club in the outer boroughs—don’t ask—and found that smack-dab in the bathroom urinal is a strategically placed red circle with Fonda’s face in the middle and the words “Hanoi Jane Urinal Target” blaring around it. They’re still mad at her Vietnam stance thirty-seven years ago! While I’ve long forgiven the woman, I had no choice but to relieve myself on her illustrious visage.

Want to wet yourself? In the trailer for The Hangover, you hear a crude character (he’s supposed to be crude, mind you) screeching, “Paging Dr. Douchebag!” But in the actual film, I hear, it’s the even more enchanting “Paging Dr. Faggot!” Go see the movie if you feel the trailer somehow cheats you on this witticism.

Paging all gays, the Friday-night Rock It bash has been drawing scads of them to Amalia, and that’s apparently been denting Mr. Black’s business. But no need to rename it Mr. Black and Blue just yet; the clubland pendulum swings every which way but loose, with moves as unpredictable as those of a wet gay cockatoo.

Paging all fruit flies, the Miss Fag Hag contest at Comix was a scream, starting backstage when my fellow judge Hedda Lettuce asked if we should put itching powder in the contestants’ clothes, while another judge, TV star and new mom Caroline Rhea, wondered, “How come I’m not getting Miss Fag Hag?” I assured her she was getting the Lifetime Achievement Award.

Rhea went on to tell me that she and some other stars of Sordid Lives would be performing at the same club soon. “Oh! All the people fired from Logo,” I joked. “We weren’t fired!” she replied. “The producer wouldn’t pay us residuals!” Rhea sardonically called me nasty, and I responded, “At least I don’t breastfeed.” “That’s true!” said Rhea, biting my bait. “I can’t accuse you of sustaining a life!”

Then came the real contest, where the finalists were a girl who sang a hard-boiled version of “Tomorrow,” another who did a clog dance while spinning hoops and juggling bowling pins, and a third who screeched, “You Oughta Know” by Alanis Morissette with angry fag-hag lyrics. (The “I put the ho in Soho” gal, who demonstrated safe sex with a banana, was sadly shut out, as was the first female Liza Minnelli impersonator in history. Too radical.) The Alanis girl won, even though her sash misspelled “West Village.”

For a palate cleanser here, let me tell you my personally researched list of the top five sayings uttered by gays on the circuit—and let this be the last time we’re subjected to their tiredness, girl. In ascending order of frequency,

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