Continuing On

I just don't know how longer I can, but I once again found myself out last night at Edison Farrow's "Karma Saturdays". In addition, I had on my arm one of the most infamous drag queens ever to have been birthed, Shelly Novak. (I think there is going to be some business conducted between Shelly and The Palace. I have goose bumps.)

So, as my personal life crumbles like blue cheese and my incessant worry that I've lost Johnny for good increases with every tear, I go out and put on a facade again of radiant happiness. It's a "war mentality" actually; you know, the Russian tanks are at the gates and you are baking a cake with the last flour and inviting everyone you know to taste it. You bring out your most (and last) elegant tea dress and crimp your hair a little bit more sassily. Those sounds in the background are not bombs, they are fireworks in your honor. My, I feel like dancing; may I take you hand in the next Polka. Oh, that's right we shouldn't bring up Poland, should we.