Bunny

On my first night of retirement from the night life, while watching the ceiling fan spin, a gang of peasant women with teased, blonde hair and dressed in knock-off Pucci burst through the doors of my chateau and forced me at the point of pitchforks to go see The Lady Bunny's show at Twist.
It was probably for the best, because everybody was in attendance and it was the type of event that people wanted to make sure you saw that they were there. The very amusing Adora opened the show, which is usually her night and you could feel the tension of one star giving it up for another, visiting one.

Of course, Bunny was the one everyone had come to see, the legend.

Bunny's show is extremely filthy and has made grown men cry and horses flee, but the crowd ate it up.

She gyrated to moves not seen since The Love Machine first made it's spectacular hit in New York and delighted the audience with a song she wrote just for the night and the place where she trashed, well, The Trash. "Glorious and Profound" the papers will write in the morning, and my side hurt from laughing so much. Thank God I had Carl to hang on to (and all his drink tickets). Retirement can wait until another day this week.