Only In Miami

One of the reasons I won't drive.

Yesterday, I had a riotous afternoon with Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish, and--today--had an equally riotous afternoon with that Baroness Seitszinger. The only difference was that The Baroness kept trying to steal my platinum watch. She almost fooled me the first time, when she gently raised my arm and said, "You have such soft skin." Then I felt the clasp come undone; after four more times, I warned her that I could survive life without the watch, but she would have a difficult time if I bit her ear off. Good times.

The Baroness Seitzinger managed to capture a photo of me in a swimsuit. She was told that cameras were not allowed, but secretly put one in her outrageously expensive, vulgar bonnets. The nerve!

We have some rough times, of the present, but I still love my baby and I still my croc. I still wouldn't give either of them up for a second---as long as I had a knife in my hand (and the town knows it).

The Baroness Seitzinger has all the illusions about having a nearly, ocean-liner sized boat off shore, so we drove ours right into the the harbor to show her off. We haven't heard from her since (and don't expect to). I mean, it's not as if all that the money of hers bought the Queen Mary. She is still just New Money. Of course, we love her still (and that purchased title), Most of us were born with no titles, but now that she purchased The Duchess of Whimsy for me, I adore her.

We had soooooo much fun with The Queen Mother. I love Beth.

The Nerve

We caught this image in Palm Beach, and The Baroness Sieztzigner immediately commented: " That was my dingy....the yacht was in the ocean" New money has it's power; old money has its dignity, even if it doesn't mean anything anymore.

Since the Twist safari, it seems we have been adopting monkeys. That's fine with me--they are so cute--, but it has increased my banana budget to the max. Someone has to put their paw.....or foot down.

Out at night with Dustin Redfeka and his husband, Patriick. Two of the nicest guys in town.

The pics still continue to flow in. Me and Leopoldo guarding Henrietta's jeep from the savages.

There was a lot of worry about how do you host a party after the town has not slept for three days. Somehow, enough friends mustered up the strength to attend my birthday pool party. I won't go into the gory details of what happened once we let the Latin boys out of the guest bedroom, but Leopoldo and I caught two of them totally naked in the back, back yard having intimate relations. I made believe that I had lost my way to watch for a while until Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish roared around the other side and tried to crash the party. And, believe me, you don't want to "crash" into that.
Lady Bunny was quite comfortable in front of a cheese platter. I turned my back for one minute and all the cheddar cubes were gone.
The formal group shot. The Queen Mother, Henrietta, is seated on the left, and the current Queen Bunny is seated on the right. I couldn't have wondered about a more perfect birthday and thank Leopoldo and Bob for all the help they put into pulling it off.

I also thank The Baroness Sietzinger. I have never been one for titles. Being known by the entire town as Mrs. Astor has suited me fine. But, being one for purchased titles, Baroness showed up with one for me: The Duchess of Whimsy. It will come in handy for the royal wedding.

Gay Pride Parade 2011

Twist's float was a jungle theme, and included fifty animals, gymnasts, spear-carrying natives, and (like us) the bwana-jujus, the British safari big wigs (although not as big as Lady Bunny's).
As usual, we escorted Henrietta, who wore an appropriate outfit. It was so heartening to hear the crown calling her name as we inched up Ocean Drive.
I brought my stuffed croc (Wally) and he immediately became a sensation by being the hood ornament on Henrietta's jeep. I bought him twenty years ago in San Juan and he has led the good life ever since (althogh KiKi always hept him in line).
This jubilant horse boy followed us and...
...that it made me wish I had been reborn as a saddle.
Our cutie-pie bartender, J.D.
Twist owner, Richard Trainor, basking in the jungle heat.

Lady Bunny, with the gorilla hand around her torso, made me weep.
Our beloved Karloz was the best monkey, ever!
After the parade, and at Twist, Wally started to hang out with the beautiful people.
There were like minds at Twist, later.
Wally took up KiKi's old habits of biting toes.
Chuckles, however, immediately felll into the club scene. We haven't seen him since.
What a wonderful time, as we followed the Twist Float, guarding Henrietta in our safari uniforms. Twist far out-paced all the other floats in style and vigor. What a day!

I can't wait for "season" to end; traditionally it ends at Easter, but in the last few years it has dragged up until Memorial Day.
Last Saturday we accompanied Henrietta out on the town. It was the usual stops at Score and Twist. I marveled at Henrietta's hair ornament and just how she got it all so perfect.
On Sunday afternoon, I attended Thomas Barker's brunch at The Angler. It was one of those all-the-vodka-you-can-drink affairs, which was tragic because I stopped drinking that wondrous beverage many months ago. I did sip a few, though, and got tragically sick, so it was a lesson learned: do not attend a brunch that has a two hour cocktail hour if you can't drink.
And on Wednesday I was on my way to the gym, decided that I was a little early for my trainer, and turned off Lincoln Road to Mova to have a glass of wine where I ran into Geraldine. This town is so jaded that her outfit didn't even cause second looks. I won't even go into the Elmo purse.

Today is the great Gay Pride Parade in which we will be in the Twist contingent. The theme is Jungle and we put together lovely safari outfits to guard Henrietta from all those native.

Tomorrow is my birthday pool party.

Monday is going to be spent all day in bed.

"Season" unleashes a non-stop rush toward bad behavior. Personally, I'm not against it, but it does have its dangers.


"Season" is almost, hopefully, over. The dangers inherent in it will pass, too (hopefully). Yesterday, I was sipping cocktails with Leopoldo when our friend, Phil, burst in and exclaimed, "Oh, I heard in Paris that you, two had reconciled and were back together!" Word travels. We are back to the formidable couple we used to be (and liking it).

Meanwhile we have attended so many parties that it is difficult to pinpoint one of the best, but I can: The Underwear Party at Twist. Here are a few of my favorites.
My personal favorite, Nicholas (on the left) with Josiah (our gay Morman).
The always enjoyable Mario with those nipples you could bounce quarters off of.
That sweetie, Nathan, whom I've know for a dozen years.
Josiah, trying to look mean.
The engaging Karloz, who makes our drinks frozen and our hearts warm.
Erik, who is straight.....but you can dream.
And Leo (with Erik).

So much is coming up: Gay Pride and, the next day, my birthday pool party. And, of course, the infamous Easter Egg Hunt.

Then, summer hibernation; well sort of.

The Baroness Sietzinger is a crafty witch. Somehow, she managed to get a photo of me drinking out of a martini glass filled with peanuts instead of gin. She doesn't go out much anymore, but when she does, she manages to promote that purchased title to the hilt.
Then, she managed another photo that she has been promoting around town of me having sex with a blow-up doll. Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish and myself have both determined something has to be done with The Baroness Seitzinger. "What" is still a question, but seeing that Mrs. S-F was driven out of town to Palm Beach by peasants with pitch forks and torches yesterday (for behavior unknown to Decent Society), the final note of what to do with The Baroness will wait until next week. Of course, Mr. Astor and myself were both part of the debauchery that drove Mamie out of town, but I have diplomatic immunity, being an ambassador of Twist (plus, I got all the phone numbers while those other fools were groping and fondling. Those little Latin boys will be at a pool party before they know it). Which brings us to Latin boys.......the next post.