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Pinkyswear

Life Goes On

Oh, what a strange and life-changing month it has been in the world of SF gays. So much has changed; so much has stayed the same. At least this time, its more than just the weather. August, as usual, is a frenzied time. It is the season of back to school shopping, burning man savings, and the final days of white shoes and linen. Since I hate linen, I am happy to see it almost over. But, as a lover of tans and trannies, I have much to mourn as autumn rolls around.

Perhaps the biggest news on the SF club scene for months has been the countdown on Trannyshack’s final days. It was once the best underground party in the city, and has finally been reduced to a memory or maybe more so a recurring dream. The Trannyshack kiss-off party was held this past Saturday night, to the rave reviews and scattered yawns of queers from across the city. It seems everyone has been touched y Trannyshack in one way or another, (though most of them have been molested or violated). It was an all-star line up that kept the crowd motivated, energized, enthralled, entertained, and finally bored and exhausted by the end. My sources tell me that if you were a true fan of Trannyshack, there was no reason to go. Everything that happened on that stage had happened before, and it was yet another best of review from Heklina. Now that’s what I call Trannies, volume 4,394 would be a better title.

Apparently there was a quite a tizzy from the plucky mother hen of Trannyshack when she found out that the venerable Lady Kier from Dee-Lite refused to sing her hit song, "Groove is in the Heart". Apparently, it was not guaranteed in the Lady’s contract. She screamed ARTISTIC INTEGRITY on the rehearsal stage, and left Heklina cursing her legal team, and screaming about lesson’s learned too late. What a world!

In other news, hopefully of the non-tranny variety, heads have been rolling as the Transfer has set out plans to clean up their club act. They are doing all they can to keep the local yokels out of the bar, and hoping to fill it with all sorts of Abercrombie clad Lime Brunch left-overs. Like that is gonna happen….those mall types don’t like a bar that smells like fecal matter and boasts more panhandlers than patrons at most times. The rumor mill has leaked that all their parties have been cancelled expect Tits, Sucker-Punch, and Chilidog. They will be putting together an all new formula of parties that will likely feature mojito madness hour and titles like Bump, Flex, or Groove. I have a feeling I won’t be going to the Transfer much anymore, but maybe its just me.

The transfer changes have made all the hipsters tremble, but who was the most rattled of them all? Rumors flew about one club that barely passed the point of no return, and has reached the other side kicking and screaming. And then there was everyone’s favorite Asian humiliating all the Dirty Dozen finalists at Frathouse, RIDICULING their unmentionables. And finally there is the story of the week, about the behemoth group that has deserted the bay for the playa. It’s Burning Man Season, and all the pill dealers and coke-heads have been sucked dry as the freaks and weirdos of SF have headed for Nevada for a crazy, art-filled week they will never remember and mostly forget. Will I see you picking up glitter on the Playa at the end of the burn? Well, I wouldn’t tell anyone if I did. You do what you want; I will remark about it and keep strong to our Pinkyswear.