Hearsay

The High Heel Race, Feel Affirmation, Cobalt

It rained, it poured, but the masses turned out on 17thÂ…
Reel Affirmations wraps with its best fest everÂ…
Cobalt’s best strut their stuffÂ…

Few events can bring Hearsay out into a cold, pouring rain — but one of them, The 17th Street High Heel Race, as always hosted and exceedingly well-managed by JR.’s and a staff of orange-shirted, extraordinarily polite volunteers, occurred just this past Tuesday, October 28. Yes, Hearsay was there getting drenched with a throng of straight Washingtonians who came to gawk at the gays on parade. But what a parade — it was a cavalcade of men in dresses, some of which, like the gals who came dressed as Vegas Showgirl Hotels, were absolutely expansive in their illustriousness. Hearsay thinks the Di thing is a little tired by now, but at least the lady had a great set of gams. On the other hand, Hearsay gives its highest honors to the frolicking White Trash Complete with whirling Tornado troupe and to an S&M-oriented Pooh and Piglet, who brought new meaning to 3-acre Wood, and to a pair of Madonnas who engaged in the kind of lascivious cheek-blushing activity one once found with regularity in the thicket of P Street Beach. (To see a few eye-popping pics of the Madonnas in action, as well as an abundance of additional pics not published on the pages of this publication, visit metroweekly.com, which is something you should be doing with more regularity than visiting P Street Beach, by the way). Hearsay must also note that Cookie Buffet never looked more ravishing and colorful, having clearly at long last figured out the secret to applying makeup (you don’t do it with a big damp sponge). Hearsay also noted the appearance of a certain leatherman who, with a scandal a few years behind him, is making an attempt to reemerge into our great gay society. The question is: do we want him back? Congrats to the race winner Ron "Lightning Legs" Brown. The 37-year-old restaurant manager won by a mile and a half (the throng that followed him mostly ended up sauntering leisurely across the finish line, carefully overseen by the tag team of Kenny & Irv). And finally, a Big Hearsay Trumpet Blast to Dave "Wanna Put Your Lips on My Bullhorn?" Peruzza for keeping the sopping wet madhouse as sane as possibleÂ…

"Here I am accepting an award for a gay film about Mormons, with a drink in my hand. This is so gay," blurted Latter Days director C. Jay "I Spooned With Reese and Withered" Cox at the closing night for this year’s Reel Affirmations, last Saturday, October 25. Cox’s drama took the award for audience fave, as Hearsay might have predicted, since it features a couple of extremely handsome, naked buff guys in a really steamy hot sex scene. (Gay men are so predictable.) Cox presided over a Q&A largely attended by, from what Hearsay could tell, gay Mormons, gay ex-Mormons, ex-ex-gay Mormon believers, ex-ex gay Mormon nonbelievers and their ex-ex-exes. At the closing night party the crowd clamored to bump elbows with the simply gor-gee-ous Steve "I Enjoy a Cup of Java Every Now and Then" Sandvoss, who played the film’s fresh-from-Idaho, blond-haired, blue-eyed doe of a Mormon missionary (and that’s a position we’d like to try with ol’ Steve). A week earlier, a somewhat older star graced the crowd with his presence — Charles "My Lipstick is Smeared" Busch, writer and star of the sumptuously entertaining Die Mommie Die! After a brief introduction, Le Busch was whisked off to the airport and back to The Great White Way, where he’s busy tinkering with the book of Taboo, the musical based on the life of Boy "Let’s Try for One Last Career Jolt" George starring Boy George and produced by Rosie "I’ve Got Nothing Else to Do" O’Donnell. Ever the critic, Hearsay felt the caliber of films was a wee bit higher in this year thirteen of the festival. Of course, the free-flowing booze from the festival’s "patron saint," Absolut Vodka didn’t hurt to temper Hearsay’s critical skills. Hearsay bids a fond farewell to longtime festival director Sarah "They’re Grrrrreat" Kellogg, who has clearly put up with Hearsay’s questions about Battle Creek for long enough. And lest Hearsay get grief about it, Hearsay must make mention of One In Ten’s tireless CEO, Carlos "No, I’m Not a Fucking Opera Queen" Arias. Bravo to all. Hey, here’s an idea: next year, why not have James "Dunk Me in Hot Water" Lipton introduce all the films?Â…

Hearsay now turns its big blue eyes toward Cobalt, where on Thursday, October 15, the bar’s own Fab Five strutted their stuff in a special Employee Edition of the weekly Best Package Contest. Hosted by Sherrie "Cherry-Pickin Man" Van Crawford, the packed house was more animated than ever, everyone hoping to see their favorite Cobalt pimp pumped on the stage stump. Bartender Mike, the Food & Wine Guy, showed the audience the finer art of pouring a carton of milk over his chiseled body. It does a body good, apparently, because he won the contest — but with just the slimmest of milk moustaches over bartender Nate the Fitness Guy, who was ripped to shreds. Cobalt’s manager, Ashley, held court as Culture Guy for the night, demonstrating the art of slithering like Britney to "Slave 4 U" while in black fishnet squarecut boxerbriefs. Oh, the things Hearsay sees!Â…

Hearsay

HRC National Dinner, Lizard Lounge holiday, High Heel Race

Hearsay joins the masses in saying goodbye to LizÂ…
A Liz of a different sort pumps up Sunday nightÂ…
The High Heel Race is coming soonÂ…

It was a night of a thousand almost-stars and political once-weres at last Saturday’s HRC National Dinner, better known as Lizziefest 2003. Held this year at the sparkling new Convention Center, the evening was one of gushing emotions and fond memories, as the faithful paid homage to departing Executive Director Elizabeth "I’m Doing It For the Children" Birch, who Hearsay will admit, in a rare moment of goopiness, has been one of our movement’s more wondrous achievements. Hearsay was shocked to learn of the additional impending departure of David "I’ve Got A Secret" Smith, HRC’s venerable Communications Director who, on more than one occasion, has lovingly remarked to Hearsay, "You can’t go in there! No, wait, stop. SECURITY!" Everyone who is anyone (and everyone who thinks they’re someone) was at the function, and Hearsay doesn’t have time or space to name them all. But it would like to congratulate Whitman-Walker’s Cornelius Baker on his well-deserved National Capital Area Leadership Award. Hearsay must also acknowledge the presence of Kathleen "Would You Like a Smear to Go with that Bagel?" DeBold, exalted high priestess of The Maunter Project, which, because it’s an organization run by lesbians for lesbians, never gets mentioned in Hearsay. Well, now it’s been mentioned, so Kathleen, you can now stop those harassing late-night, heavy breathing phone calls. Down from New York was Hearsay’s other Sapphic chum Cathy "If These Lips Could Talk" Renna, who currently helms GLAAD’s news media division. Hearsay slipped past security and into the cordoned-off media area where it snagged some face time with the three Queer Eyes guys before some creature with a shrill voice and a withering presence whisked them away. "I’m from People," shrieked the creature, "and I was promised an exclusive." Hearsay was dismayed to find that one celebrity, former pro-footballer and aspiring singing star Esera "Tiny Bubbles" Tuaolo, has gotten too big for his britches. Must be all the baby back ribs. The West Wing‘s Alison Janney, however, was positively fetching. Hearsay loves Ally almost as much as it loved Kate. Hearsay only has one gripe about the evening and it goes to whomever made the boneheaded decision to put the extraordinary Oleta Adams on stage during the salad course. Clink, clink, clink went the silverware as Adams gamely played her lovely piano set. Guess someone at HRC thought Oleta needed a little added percussionÂ…

Hearsay heard that Club Five was its rowdy, randy self yet again Sunday night for its gay Holiday party, but Hearsay was too busy slithering around its favorite urban jungle, Lizard Lounge at Club MCCXXIII-LXIX, admiring one variety of reptile after another. So many beautiful lizards, all in one place — and no two look alike. How do they do it? Just the man to ask: Croc-Monsieur Mark "Pining to be Michelle" Lee, who seemed a little fatigued, though still plenty chipper, toward the end of the evening. If you made it all the way up to the soothingly cool third level, you had the treat of seeing, and hearing, the exotic and rare blue iguana, otherwise known as DJ Jean-Philippe "Whee-Whee" Aviance. The Aviance iguana is best appreciated from the even rarer-to-snag shag beds running the length of one wall in the very white (décor-speaking, that is) room. But don’t forget to tuck in the sheets before you leave. It was hard to abandon the sensual, French disco house sounds of the third level, but then it was equally hard to abandon the sexy, hard-thumpin’ bass house of the first and second floors, where DJ Kostas bossed us in the key of Beyoncé. Neal "He’s Got Bette Davis Eyes" Carnes never once left Kostas’ dancefloor. His friend and housemate Warren "Marque" Marquez pointed out the goatee of one leapin’ lizard. "I want one like that," he said, with obvious double meaning. Lee-zerd, lee-zerd, it’s gettin’ hot in hereÂ…

And last but not least, for all those who keep writing Hearsay (at hearsay@metroweekly.com) asking WHEN IS THE 17TH STREET HIGH HEEL RACE? Hearsay finally has an answer: It’s Tuesday, October 28, at 9 p.m. Be there in your finest spikesÂ…