Saturday, August 11, 2007
Check yo' purses girls! Wendy Ho is reppin' on our blog
We had the pleasure of interviewing Mz. Wendy Ho. She sings, raps, dances and makes us laugh our asses off. Speakin' of asses, she's got some junk in the trunk and she is hot as hell. SHe's busy performing all around NYC so please catch one of her shows ASAP before she blows up and buy the cd-don't be stingy, ok?
L and F: We saw your show in NYC and we have been a little Ho obsessed ever since. Do you have any stalkers?
Ho: Yes I do have stalkers, but I don’t ever call them that. I call them admirers that got crazy eyes and stare at me a lil too hard. I try to break the stare by blinking at them a lot. Most of my admirers are gay menz and girlie girls cuz I got that fabulous factor kickin. I don’t ever feel afraid of them…well one time I got a lil scared when Jim McGreevey was staring at me a lil too hard at a Jersey rest stop—he got crazy eyes—but I broke the silence and said, “Governor McGreevey I just wanna congratulate you on having the cleanest rest stops in the whole country! I know you weren’t gonna get down on yo’ knees on any grimey tiles!” His crazy eyes lit up and said, “You know that’s right, Ho! Now cut a hole in that stall and let’s get to suckin!”
L and F: For those who haven't had the exquisite experience of seeing you live, what is the best way to describe your show?
Ho: The Wendy Ho Show is a healing experience through the songs and stories of a good Ho gone better. Funny? CHECK. Irreverent? You know it. Fabulous? Are you fucking kidding me? Spiritual? Jesus is on speed dial! Fresh? I keep my pussy in tupperwear—nuff said!
L anf F: We knew we were fly when we were singin' "Borderline" in our mama's pumps in the full length mirror back in the day. When did you know you had the "I'm the shit" factor?
Ho: I knew I was the shit when I was sitting in the principal’s office in the fifth grade leading my girlfriends in a a chorus of “my little donkey, pretty donkey, donkey gots a big bone.” See, my mom bought me a donkey at the 99 cent store, instead of a my lil pony—that’s all she could afford. Well I took it to school and had so much fun singing “my lil donkey, pretty donkey, donkey gots a big bone,” that all the girls in the 5th grade ran out, bought donkeys and we gots sent to the principal’s office for singing my first dirty lyrics. I got suspended for 2 days cuz I pushed the envelope when the principal (a nun) asked me “what has gotten into you?” and I said, “Sista! If God gives you a donkey, then why not make an ass out of yoself?”
L and F: If a girl steps up to us in the club with a stank ass attitude, what should we do?
Ho: You should say, “Is that yo attitude, or is somebody’s purse been left open?..I smell purse..do you smell purse?”
L and F: What would you tell our guy readers if they wanted to impress you/take you out?
Ho: I would tell them I gots a man, but if you really want to impress me you’ll
quit TRYING to impress and just be confident in who you is.
L and F: When we google you, we also get Wendy Ho who is an author that writes about politics of Asian-Americans. You also tackle tough topics like AIDS ("The Aids Gamble"). Do you see yourself as a role model?
Ho: Role model? Nahhh. Models in general turn me off—what makes one person more qualified than another in telling people the way they SHOULD live they lives? or SHOULD look or SHOULD talk, etc, etc? I aspire to inspire people by living my vision and bringing my wHOle self to the party. That includes a nassy talkin’ mouf and thighs that rub together! If this inspires—so it is! If it turns you off—so it is! Tell the truth and live yo life!
L and F: When you blow up real big, do you think you'll become a media whore, drivin' around all drunk and showin' your privates?
Ho: Hell to the no! I ain’t no media whore—just a simple Ho—if what I do causes people to stop and look that’s fine, but I’ll always have a clean pair of underwear on! As for driving…well, I don’t drive now, and the next car I plan on owning is a limo w/ a chauffeur—so you ain’t gots to worry about me driving irresponsibly.
L and F: Any shameless plugs before we let you go?
Ho: Of course! Here are some shameless plugs right here, gurlz!
http://www.buttplugs.com/
Butt, for realz:
Come see me at www.wendytheho.com, www.myspace.com/wendyho, or http://wendyhoflow.blogspot.com/ & get yo copy of my cd The Gospel According to Ho TODAY!!
In Defense of Vegetarianism #2
Ignorant Redneck: "I hunt because its how man is supposed to be, huntin' and gatherin' and shit. We're the top of the food chain hunny!"
Intelligent and Classy Vegetarian: "Wow, you must have a really small penis..."
This is a good response to someone who is real "ig'nint" but if they really want to learn about the cons of hunting the most concise guide I know is through the group, In Defense of Animals, check out their site for more info:
http://www.idausa.org/
Lady Chavez
Got Low Self Esteem? Get a Job at the Go-Go Bar!
I was out on the streets, me with my college degree, no job and 2 cats. I called my mother (I was obviously desparate) to see if she would take us in. Like any good parent, she said I was over 18 and too old not to fend for myself. I took up the couch at an old friend's house for a week or
so and sent my cats to a girl I was on the outs with and she reluctantly took them in. I was dating this cop at the time and he said his friend was hiring and would give me a job but I may not be interested. I joked, "What, is it Hooters or something?". He said it was actually worse and it was waitressing at the local go-go bar. This was a ridiculous suggestion, surely, considering I was not "that type of girl" and I wouldn't dare stoop so low. I had a college degree for Christs sake! I envisioned my kitties starving and homeless and the next thing I know I'm modeling a cleavage baring tuxedo top and bikini bottoms for my prospective employer as my interview. Needless to say (wink), I got the job and started bartending and waitressing to a very ecclectic crowd of horny dudes. I gotta tell ya, it was actually very liberating. I have never been
classified as a prude by any means but I never would have guessed walking around half naked serving drinks could be so empowering. Of course you had the occasional loser who would try and throw his balled up tip in between my boobs but other than that, no issues. Men throwing money at me (not literally like the aforementioned schmuck) just for being a woman that
ain't afraid to show what my mama gave me, made me feel free. And feeling free means you are getting paid, honey. Now, I know this sounds absurd to any even half-ass feminist, but feeling good about your body and about being a woman is the shit.
************Now, keeping it clean is the key (specifically your nose and mouth). If you're doing lines in the "dressing room" or giving out BJ's in the parking lot, it doesn't exactly work the same way and you will not feel good about yourself. Do not play yourself like that, girls! Now go out
there and get 'em!***************
PS. Thanks mom!
Love,
Lady Chavez
so and sent my cats to a girl I was on the outs with and she reluctantly took them in. I was dating this cop at the time and he said his friend was hiring and would give me a job but I may not be interested. I joked, "What, is it Hooters or something?". He said it was actually worse and it was waitressing at the local go-go bar. This was a ridiculous suggestion, surely, considering I was not "that type of girl" and I wouldn't dare stoop so low. I had a college degree for Christs sake! I envisioned my kitties starving and homeless and the next thing I know I'm modeling a cleavage baring tuxedo top and bikini bottoms for my prospective employer as my interview. Needless to say (wink), I got the job and started bartending and waitressing to a very ecclectic crowd of horny dudes. I gotta tell ya, it was actually very liberating. I have never been
classified as a prude by any means but I never would have guessed walking around half naked serving drinks could be so empowering. Of course you had the occasional loser who would try and throw his balled up tip in between my boobs but other than that, no issues. Men throwing money at me (not literally like the aforementioned schmuck) just for being a woman that
ain't afraid to show what my mama gave me, made me feel free. And feeling free means you are getting paid, honey. Now, I know this sounds absurd to any even half-ass feminist, but feeling good about your body and about being a woman is the shit.
************Now, keeping it clean is the key (specifically your nose and mouth). If you're doing lines in the "dressing room" or giving out BJ's in the parking lot, it doesn't exactly work the same way and you will not feel good about yourself. Do not play yourself like that, girls! Now go out
there and get 'em!***************
PS. Thanks mom!
Love,
Lady Chavez
Trend and Anti-trend of the Week
Trend: Is it a headband or is it a headscarf?
Well, well, well…..if it isn’t the old headband remake? How many times can we make a headband fresh people? Apparently, as many times as young, NYC hipsters will allow….
A throwback to days when Twiggy graced the covers of Vogue, these mod-inspired, coiffure-taming, hair accessories are everywhere. An easy way to transform your JBF hair-do into something stunning for a night out on the town!
FLuffgirl JBF Hair Before
Fluffgirl JBF Hair with Trendy Scarf
Anti-Trend: White Girls With Weave
Ladies- I don’t care if you’re white or black. But really- especially if you’re white: Hair extensions (a.k.a WEAVE) is something we, as Caucasian ladies, do not pull off well unless you are a Tranny. I’m here to tell you that if you are thinking of having this done- please reconsider. Any fashionable New Yorker would not be caught dead with a head full of fake hair. Well, let me rephrase- if you’ve got fake nails, fake boobs, and fake skin, then maybe you think you’re fashionable with fake hair. Better yet, you probably think fake PINK hair looks good. However, fortunately, this is not the style icon of truly hip people here in the city- its all about healthful beauty and NATURAL hair, nails and skin. The only thing fake should be your tan.
And she has spoken…
Fluff
Well, well, well…..if it isn’t the old headband remake? How many times can we make a headband fresh people? Apparently, as many times as young, NYC hipsters will allow….
A throwback to days when Twiggy graced the covers of Vogue, these mod-inspired, coiffure-taming, hair accessories are everywhere. An easy way to transform your JBF hair-do into something stunning for a night out on the town!
FLuffgirl JBF Hair Before
Fluffgirl JBF Hair with Trendy Scarf
Anti-Trend: White Girls With Weave
Ladies- I don’t care if you’re white or black. But really- especially if you’re white: Hair extensions (a.k.a WEAVE) is something we, as Caucasian ladies, do not pull off well unless you are a Tranny. I’m here to tell you that if you are thinking of having this done- please reconsider. Any fashionable New Yorker would not be caught dead with a head full of fake hair. Well, let me rephrase- if you’ve got fake nails, fake boobs, and fake skin, then maybe you think you’re fashionable with fake hair. Better yet, you probably think fake PINK hair looks good. However, fortunately, this is not the style icon of truly hip people here in the city- its all about healthful beauty and NATURAL hair, nails and skin. The only thing fake should be your tan.
And she has spoken…
Fluff
Crafts We Love #2
Amigurumi
All the fun of animal ownership and none of the animal cruelty!
Who likes farm animals?? (Raise your hand please- not you Billy Bob). Well what’s more lovable than small, handmade critters creepin out of your pockets? These palm-sized cuties are straight from Japan- a craft form known as Amigurumi. If you know how to crochet, then you’re in luck- some yarn, crochet hooks and a pattern are all you need to get started. Need a pattern? Check out this website: www.roxycraft.com.
Japanese farm animals….hmmmm. Does that mean they come fully vaccinated?
Daddy's Girl
Today's my daddy's b-day and he would have been 62. I know I don't do much serious bloggin' but I seriously miss him. Happy Birthday Der!
Daddy's Girl
I’ve got a thousand pounds of
Pillows, stained from the cries
Of swollen eyes
because you’re gone.
And I think of the flies
that rested on you before they burned you up
I’ve got your ashes on my stereo, I turn the volume up,
Because you taught me that music is life
I thought I’d take a knife
and end it
To be close to you
you’d think I was such a fool if you knew
but I guess that is the way that it goes,
that was the life that you chose
to live short and sweet
Just long enough to be thrown to the concrete.
I still can’t believe they found you facedown
Still, you had on your invisible crown
That I gave you
when I was so small I would crave for you
to wake up after a long night in the band
Sit up and hold my hand
teach me about things most people won’t understand
because you and I were different from the rest of the world,
I’ll always be daddy’s girl.
I’ve got cancer was your answer when I called
And I never knew that it meant you would hit a brick wall
and life as I knew it would fly straight out the windshield
past the dash and the glass onto the field
of asphalt
but its not your fault,
And I cry, not because I don’t think you’re ok now
But the other day I couldn’t explain how
I called your number that no longer exists
But it was still labeled with your name and yes I ball up my fists
In protest, that you won’t pick up the phone
I’ve got a glass full of wine because it drowns out the drone
Of idle talk and complaints about life
its pitfalls and restraints and the strife
And if you were here we’d laugh at the rest of the world
I’ll always be daddy’s girl.
Love,
Mae (AKA Lady Chavez)
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Golden Showers by Hillbilly Harlot
Golden Showers has been submitted to us by our dear friend, Hillbilly Harlot, who will be guest blogging once a week to give you the lowdown on everything from Philly to phasion to phlatulence.
Golden Showers
I am not from the East Coast so maybe some people that are can fill me in on something. Where do you pee in the inner city?
Growing up Southwestern, everyone has a toilet for you to use. There are no secret words or passes you need. There's always a Wal-Mart or 7-11 around the corner for you to relieve yourself and nobody looks at you suspiciously when you ask to use the w.c.
In Philly, it's every woman for herself. I've purchased a coffee from Starfucks just to get the code to the bathroom. I've piggybacked on women who have the code to the toilet at Taco Bell. Ducked into bars hoping to go unnoticed as I make a beeline to the back. Why does it take such a monumental effort to find a basic human need? One trip to the public toilet in a center city 'mall' explained it all. The smell of burning plastic mixed with 3 day old piss will fill your lungs when you enter the restroom. Make your way into a stall only to see that 'Oops! Somebody missed!" all over the floor beneath your new Steve Madden, round toe, kitten heel pumps from Ross ($15.99, thank you very much).Try to ignore the moans of homeless love being made in the handicapable stall.Try not to cry while you wipe whatever that shit is off your new non-designer bargain bin shoes. Yes, I understand the restroom is a great place to cook up and take a duke on the floor, but if the crackheads are using the public restrooms...what's the non crack head to do?
When I feel that little tingle, fear immediately runs through my bloodstream and anxiety fills my head with thoughts of "where to go?" Not too long ago, this happened while I waited on the bus to take me home at 2:30 am, I patiently waited and cried when the bus hits huge potholes. Finally at my stop, I could barely walk. If finding a public restroom at 1:00 pm is tough, try 3:00 am. Impossible. So, like the lady I am, I popped squat behind the bus stop. Not my finest moment considering my lack of penis gives me no control to where my recycled beer dribbles. But I am sure I'm not the first person to piss there and certainly won't be the last.
Any suggestions on this predicament? Adult diapers? Anyone?
Golden Showers
I am not from the East Coast so maybe some people that are can fill me in on something. Where do you pee in the inner city?
Growing up Southwestern, everyone has a toilet for you to use. There are no secret words or passes you need. There's always a Wal-Mart or 7-11 around the corner for you to relieve yourself and nobody looks at you suspiciously when you ask to use the w.c.
In Philly, it's every woman for herself. I've purchased a coffee from Starfucks just to get the code to the bathroom. I've piggybacked on women who have the code to the toilet at Taco Bell. Ducked into bars hoping to go unnoticed as I make a beeline to the back. Why does it take such a monumental effort to find a basic human need? One trip to the public toilet in a center city 'mall' explained it all. The smell of burning plastic mixed with 3 day old piss will fill your lungs when you enter the restroom. Make your way into a stall only to see that 'Oops! Somebody missed!" all over the floor beneath your new Steve Madden, round toe, kitten heel pumps from Ross ($15.99, thank you very much).Try to ignore the moans of homeless love being made in the handicapable stall.Try not to cry while you wipe whatever that shit is off your new non-designer bargain bin shoes. Yes, I understand the restroom is a great place to cook up and take a duke on the floor, but if the crackheads are using the public restrooms...what's the non crack head to do?
When I feel that little tingle, fear immediately runs through my bloodstream and anxiety fills my head with thoughts of "where to go?" Not too long ago, this happened while I waited on the bus to take me home at 2:30 am, I patiently waited and cried when the bus hits huge potholes. Finally at my stop, I could barely walk. If finding a public restroom at 1:00 pm is tough, try 3:00 am. Impossible. So, like the lady I am, I popped squat behind the bus stop. Not my finest moment considering my lack of penis gives me no control to where my recycled beer dribbles. But I am sure I'm not the first person to piss there and certainly won't be the last.
Any suggestions on this predicament? Adult diapers? Anyone?
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Homo Thugs?!?!?!
Ok, so I have a confession to make. I went to the gay bar a couple weekends ago and I found out that I am not ok with homo thugs. My friend Molly and I are total fruit flies (formally known as fag hags). We're dancin it up in our newly acquired thrift store pumps. To our left we see some thin, hipster boys making out. We agree they are so cute. Then to our right, we see totally thugged out dudes grindin' and sweatin' with their do-rags on! What the fu? Now, we know we should not be hatin' and I felt like my dad when I was like, "Now, that just ain't natural." But listen, it looked like if 50 Cent was dancin' with his drank and T.I. was backin' his ass up into him. See what I'm sayin? I can't wrap my mind around it. I'm so ashamed of myself!
KIT,
Lady Chavez
homo thug, the: urban male who has sex with other men; does not see himself as effeminate, passive or powerless; does not refer to himself as 'gay'; synonymous with > banjee (n.), hip-hop head (n.); to be on the Down Low, to be on the DL;
Down Low, the: (n.) a region vastly populated by many popular hip hop recording artists, closeted but conspirational; giving each other head on the DL; (Leland Gale, SBC Magazine)
KIT,
Lady Chavez
homo thug, the: urban male who has sex with other men; does not see himself as effeminate, passive or powerless; does not refer to himself as 'gay'; synonymous with > banjee (n.), hip-hop head (n.); to be on the Down Low, to be on the DL;
Down Low, the: (n.) a region vastly populated by many popular hip hop recording artists, closeted but conspirational; giving each other head on the DL; (Leland Gale, SBC Magazine)
Labels:
dance,
gay,
homo thugs
Monday, August 6, 2007
Poems Your Mother Warned You About
My Sunday Best
I knew he had never been to church,
maybe part of his appeal.
He had rebelled against something else.
I wanted to find out what drew
the corners of his mouth into a smirk
like mine.
He wanted to be saved.
In my best Sunday dress, I lay
on the floor in front of him,
legs spread like a hymnal.
He sat disappointed like
his only chance at redemption
had spread wings and flew out
of my vagina and out the door.
He slumped to the carpet in
defeat until he was tasting
the wine soaked wafer that
had rested on my tongue.
“God is an illusion” he heard
and he sank, reassured into
my Sunday best.
Lady Chavez
I knew he had never been to church,
maybe part of his appeal.
He had rebelled against something else.
I wanted to find out what drew
the corners of his mouth into a smirk
like mine.
He wanted to be saved.
In my best Sunday dress, I lay
on the floor in front of him,
legs spread like a hymnal.
He sat disappointed like
his only chance at redemption
had spread wings and flew out
of my vagina and out the door.
He slumped to the carpet in
defeat until he was tasting
the wine soaked wafer that
had rested on my tongue.
“God is an illusion” he heard
and he sank, reassured into
my Sunday best.
Lady Chavez
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Ok - so I can't claim complete originality for my alias.
Not only did Anna think of of it, there's a burlesque troop in Canada called Fluffgirl Burlesque. This was discovered after I had taken the name, but we just love these ladies and think you should, too! For those of you who don't know about this lost female art, check the link below.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iqX91t4MX7s
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iqX91t4MX7s
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