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Indian Summer got the Small Pox Blanket


On what will likely be the last weekend of its kind, San Francisco seemed ripe for the picking. Sure, the rain was right at our heels, but that didnít mean that we couldnít be extra celebratory about the last time weíd feel eighty degrees for six months. On a Saturday night, every patio at every restaurant in town was overflowing with the sweet excesses that only the ends of summer can deliver. I was making my rounds, enjoying my short shorts for the last time, and couldnít believe how much scoop was taking place all over.

In the Castro, M4M Fridays got an unexpected treat from my favorite socialite, Ambrosia salad, who was giving the room Thierry Mugler realness and dancing on the bar like it was her personal catwalk. Dripping sweat and stinking of booze, the indulgence of the evening lasted into the wee hours of the morning. But, a rogue had shown up in the club.

It seems that a young tranny named Cookie has been working her hardest lately to get noticed, but in the worsdt possible way. She has been hitting all the hot spots, harassing the scenesters that wonít talk to her (cause they donít know her) in a violent fashion, and stealing their drinks. In fact, a certain scenester was so fed up with her shenanigans that he went and filled up his beer with boiling hot water just to bait her. When he put it down on the table and walked away, Cookie discretely came up for a swig. As the boiling water entered her mouth, however, she got the surprise of her life. Spewing water out of her mouth and screaming, she ran out of the club, and hasnít been seen since. Letís hope that she learned her lesson.

Now, while I wish she had run smack dab into the middle of the Milk Premiere, she unfortunately didnít. However, she was pretty much the only one. On a Tuesday Night the streets of the Castro were shut down to welcome the all-star cast for the world premiere of Milk at the Castro Theatre. Everyone was there, Sean Penn with Robin Wright, Josh Brolin and Diane Lane, even the venerable Gavin Newsom and his new bride came out. But why, for godsdake, did the Mayor and first lady of the city think it was appropriate to wear denim? It was Diane Lane in Marchesa, Robin Wright Penn in Prada, even Donna Sachet shed her signature reds for a cool blue Escada gown, and then the Newsomís in Wrangler. TACKY! Yet, I presume, typical for the straight San Francisco set. At least everyone gave the film glowing reviews!

As the week passed, we all got set for the ultimate ďfirstĒ of the rainy holidays, Halloween. IN fact, I caught up with Audrey Joseph as she freaked out about the city event at Lot A. With only days to go and a forecast of rain, Miss Joseph had no tents to keep the event dry. But fear you not, she will pull off a spectacular event. Her record speaks louder than anything else, and this woman is on Grace Jonesí speeddial!

While the city was fretting, and the fags were blooming phone trees to defeat Prop 8, which commisioner was comparing Gus Bean to a houseplant? Who was talking shit about Obama at the NakedSword Halloween Mixer? Who was getting plowed in the backroom at the Pilsner Inn, and what legendary drag diva was trying to get my mother to hit her joint? Well, I know all this and more, but I canít tell you as I have been sworn to secrecy and I never break a pinkyswear!