Tomorrow night's movie in Scottie's "Gay Classics 101" is Birdcage, which nicely follows up last week's original. Showtime is at 10 PM, upstairs in the VIP room, at Twist.

I always love the dinner scene where the soup bowls with Greek boys fucking becomes an issue. (They've never been an issue with me.)

Pimpernel flew into Miami yesterday afternoon for a two day holiday; I still don't understand how anyone can go through the rigors of airline travel these days just to say "Hello" for a weekend. A visit by Pimpernel invaribly involves grand dinners, excessive drinking, and bawding stories, but we live for that. Today, he took Leopoldo and I to a magnificent, three hour lunch at Smith and Wollensky's at which we feasted and watched jet skis, fishing boats, and yachts sail by on Government Cut. Upon return to The Palace, Mrs Stuyvesant-Fish and Connie (she-so-bad) Chung joined us for the drag show. Mrs. S-F delighted us in the story of how she had just spent four days in Palm Beach with her buddy, Michael. One afternoon, the two of them (drunk, probably) drove around for two hours in a 1982 Rolls Corniche convertible. She said, "That car had brakes like an airplane, and we would tool around until we saw a cute worker trimming hedges, floor it, and then screech to a halt. They always dropped their clippers (she might have used the work, 'tools', but I won't go there)." I replied, "Mamie, didn't you have anything better to do in an afternoon?", and she answered, "No; not in Palm Beach." She was on her twentieth cocktail, and I chose not to pursue it.

Many guests were coming up--as they have all week--thanking us for the magnificent Hairspray Ball on Wednesday and asking what was next. I don't know for sure, but I mentioned to Carlos the 50's trend of "Come As You Are" parties, and we will see where we can go with that. Come As You Are...that opens a lot of room for interpretation.