Girls, It Is Friday And We Are Off And Running!!!!!!

And a very special Friday it is, darlings, for today my father reaches the grand old age of 95--yes, darlings!--with ninety percent of things intact, which is better than I will be at that point when I will presumably be pushing up daisies. You have to hand it to him who survived everything from World War II to raising ME, and it is a toss-up, believe me, darlings, as to which was worse.

Still striking out on Match.com. Meanwhile I have been to the bank, got a fabulous card for Janice, plan to go shopping, come home, go back in and see a movie or have a Bloody Mary, and then meet the Girls this evening. My life just does not stop moving, girls, except in the direction of finding a partner.

Thank God I finished that awful Peter Straub book, "A Dark Matter." What a tremendous disappointment; definitely not up to his standards. Unlike the current "The Fleet Street Murders" by that cutie Charles Finch, which is up to his standards. Now if only I could find a man up to mine.

Time to run, girls! Love you all!

Girls, This Week We Have Collaborative Winners!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, this week our Bitch Of The Week turns out to be not just one person, but a multitiude of people. We take you to the suburban enclave of South Hadley in Masschusetts, where on January 14 of this year, 15 year old Phoebe Prince was driven to suicide by bullying and harassment from classmates, teachers, and administrators in her high school. There is so much wrong with this picture I don't know where to begin. Let us start by naming names.

The Classmates
Sean Mulveyhill
Austin Renaud
Kayla Narey
Ashley Longe
Sharon Chanon Velasquez
Flannery Mallon

These were the collective bitches who did everything from verbally abuse to stauatory rape Phoebe. But, wait, it gets better. The teachers and administrators of this shcool knew what was going on--and chose to look the other way. Then they cried crocodile tears after the incident. Too little too late for these adult bitches, who should all be fired and stripped of the privilege to teach or administrate in any school anywhere. And how about the parents of the classmates, who are responsible for having raised such monsters. Bring them into court, and put them in prison, too.

As for the classmates, they ARE facing charges; save the state the expense and simply burn them at the stake in a televised snuff exectuion. In my day, dears, those who did the bullying were at least pretty and goodlooking. Like the Dykemans, and Roberta and Nedra. But this is is the sorriest looking group of teen hitches I have ever seen--male and female--not one is remotely attractive.

Which makes these students and their so-called adult authority figures perfect as our collective Bitch OF The Week. You would have to notch up to the level of Ian Brady and Myra Hindley to top this gang! And you can sure Ian and Myra will appear on here sometime soon!

Some bitches on here we can just LOVE--like Anna Wintour!!!! These should simply be gotten rid of!!!!!!!!!!!

Screw you, you fucking South Hadley bitches!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, You Are NOT Going To Believe This!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, after the emotional debacle last weekend that was my father's defunct birthday celebration, I get this email from my sister about how when she and my father went to the bank to roll over his CD or whatever, he asks the bank officer what would happen to his money if he moved to Ireland? Is he kidding? Ireland at 95? Even if Judy is over there for a time, I cannot be flying cross continental, darlings; I mean, Florida is bad enough, but Ireland? Not that it isn't beautiful and worth seeing, but this is NOT the time in his life to do that.

See why I need a husband, girls? But you had better believe I am still striking out. Maybe I should revive my "Sweet Charity" act, with me impersonating Gwen Verdon from the cast album cover. Hell, at this stage, that would be as garish as Bette Davis as Baby Jane.

No wonder I am gulping meds and going to the doctor's; hell, I do not even expect to see 95, so you would think my father would cool his jets and just enjoy what he has here. And, of course, girls, I cannot go over there and fall in love with some Irishman because Europeans, darling, are....uncut....and honey, we do not go there!!!!!!! At least, I don't. Hell, it only makes things more difficult.

This will definitely require an extra dose of nightcream. Or something. You see why I have been resorting to Bloody Marys. If only the waiters would wait on me more!!!! Oh, well, see you at teatime, girls!!!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, We Ought To Slap Ben Brantely!!!!!!!

The only thing wrong with the above, girls, is that deep down, we know he would LIKE it!!!!! Imagine sticky his butt in the air, slapping it beet red, while he wiggles, gyrates and moans!!!! What would be the point? No, girls, this is not a pron site; if you want that then go elsewhere; there is plenty of such out in cyber.
What we are referring to is Ben Brantley's reveiw of the current revival of "Promises, Promises," which opened last night at the Broadway theater. Not that he was wrong to have reservations and caveats. BUT his ignorance of what it takes to make this show successful is inexcusable, considering he is old enough (my age, darlings!) to know, AND know full well who those sources are. They just happen to be the choreography of Michael Bennett (this was his first hit as a choreographer) and two then young ladies, still living, Donna McKechnie and Baayork Lee, who stepped out of the chorus to stop the show with "Turkery Lurkey Time" and have since gone on to things well chronicled here. First, to jettison the Bennett dances was insulting to all, and not to consult Donna or Baayork for reconstruction purposes is short of desecration. Who wants to see recycled amateurism? And then to have Sean Hayes do a role originated by Jerry Orbach? Well, Brantley DID touch upon that, but his failure to mention Michael Bennett, Donna or Baayork, calls his critical acumen into question and shows why this big old bottom just needs to be bitch slapped until his pleasure turns to pain. I hope Donna and Baayork are out there right now, and reading this, because, darlings, let me tell you, they could go on tonight and delvier that number with as much gusto as they did back in 1968.

Not to mention this was the show that cemented my determination to see all things Broadway. I will never forget back in eighth grade French class when Miss Princess of Linclon Avenue, Roberta Widman (who got everything I should have had!) regaled us one Monday with her weekend--"What did YOU do?" she condescended. "Friday night I went to see 'Promises, Promises'." I made up my mind then and there that when I came of age I would see as much Broadway as I could. And now I bet I strip Roberta when it comes to that? How do you like that, Roberta? Huh? Miss Princess who wouldn't talk to some of us. Well, there you are!!!!!

Darlings, it feels so good to vent our spleen of the past. Right now I would like to vent something on Mr. Ben Brantley. Well, mark my words--one day his path and mine will cross, and girls, you will hear it firt on HERE.

Meanwhile, I am off to Audrey's this eve for another Beads For Life reception. And who knows what tomorrow. After last weekend, my week should prove to be one of glamour girls.

Join me, darlings, as I keep you informed!

Right on, Little Edie!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, So Many Secrets To Share!!!!!!

Girls, this is coming live to you from the Pennsylvania suburbs, where I am once again ensconced. What was supposed to be the birthday celebration for my father fizzled, due in part to pressure on nerves exerted upon my father. I am telling you, next time we don't tell him what is going to happen, just surprise him. This is the fourth planned event with him that has fizzled out, and I am telling you, girls, this act is getting real old real quick.

Speaking of secrets, you have heard about my friend, Harvey. Well, I want to share a big one concerning him. I have the theory based on long years of observation that Harvey is secretly drag icon Rollerena!!!! Think about it, lambs, you do not see either at the Center at the same time. I mean, I never have!!!!! According to the research I have done, Rollerena was born around 1948, and emerged on the NYC gay scene at about 1972. And Harvey was born in 1949, so he COULD be Rollerena. That whole steel magnolia act is just a big cover-up for disco wildness and an affinity for the night scene. Of course, this will all be answered on May 8, when Rollerena hosts a Studio 54 Anniversary at the Center party, and then we will find out the answer for sure. I will report it on here, girls, as expected, and I can promise you that whether he is Harvey, or whether he is Rollerena, both are icons.

Alas, there are no icons in the suburbs. Honey, it is so pictuesque here, but there is not much to do. If only we could have gone to Chadwick's , it would have been interesting. But I am telling you, the wholesome farm atmosphere of Springton Manor, with its farm fresh goodness just brought out my inner American. But you have never seen so many heterosexuals in your life. Get me back to the city where there are gay men. Heaven help me, girls! And still no husband! I promise this coming week I will take a more aggressive approach on the husband hunting front.

Now, if only I could have a Bloody Mary! But no bloody chance here, dears!!!!!!

See you all back in New York, girls!!!!!

Girls, I Can't Believe Another Week Has Passed!!!!

Seems like yesterday, darlings, we were just doing this, but lo and behold it is time for another Bitch of the Week! And what a choice one we have for today. The honor this week goes to none other than---Pope Benedict XVI.

You have to hand it to this guy for being such a would be. A would be cleric and pontiff, and more importantly a would be fashionista. Yes, girls, this Pope spends more time worrying about his robe and his red shoes than he does about Christian doctrine and congregational welfare. Listen, if Judy Garland had paid as much attention to HER red shoes in "The Wizard of Oz," Dorothy would have gotten home a lot faster. This is one prancing Pontif, girls, what with his matching Prada red back, sequeined ruby necklaces, and those shoes that just won't quit. Never mind about those generations of children in Ireland and elsewhere who were abused by pedophile priests. Never mind about the women in Ireland and elsewhere--generations of them, darling--who were abused by the nuns in the Magadalen asylums. Two movies were even made about that one, girls. And don't forget about the priestly goings on in "Primal Fear." Hell, the Catholic Church has moved so far past "Going My Way" that "The Exorcist" makes things look good. And this image is being enhanced, further and negatively, by our current Pope, who is certainly a grade A bitch, who will not own up to any responsibility whatsoever.

What he and all these priests need is a good strong dose of Jennifer Jones--and I mean in "The Song of Bernadette," not "Duel In The Sun." These padres are more Pearl than Bernadette already. What the Church needs is a leader like Father Guido Sarducci, whose answer to everything is "'Ay, how you doin'?" No trouble with him around.

So hats off--and what hats, darlings--to our current Bitch of the Week, Pope Benedict XVI!!!! Not only is he destroying his own reputation but that of an entire Faith. And all for his own self-aggrandizement.

Now THERE is a bitch for you, girls!!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, What Does One Do After One Has Met A Legend??????

Girls, let me tell you, my week was made. There I was, sitting at the desk, taking and vetting appointments, when in front of my desk walks--Jossie De Guzman!!!!!!!!! Now, this is espeically important after my last post on Musical Theater Queens, as any MTQ worth their name will know who Jossie is.

Darlings, back in the 1970s, we all wanted to be Jossie De Guzman. We wanted to look like her, wear her hair like, her, and most of all, we wanted to sing like her, as she had one of the most compelling voices ever in musical theater. When she did the haunting "No Lullabies For Luis" in Elizabeth Swados' "Runaways" back in
1978, girls, I am telling you, there was absolutely NOTHING like it. And then she went on to do Maria in the 1980 "West Side Story" revival and then Sister Sarah in the Nathan Lane-Faith Prince "Guys and Dolls." My friend Rob, the Amy Adams of Mahwah, New Jersey, went to school with Jossie, and he knew before any of us what a legend she was going to become. And now here is Jossie right in our midst, back in New York, looking as lovely as ever, with that radiant mannaer and I am sure that still compelling voice. I am telling you, my week is made. I have to have a cool drink just to recover.

So, go home tonight, and try and become a legend yourselves, girls! But no one--I mean NO ONE--can be the legend that is Jossie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, You Had Better Be NICE To All Us Musical Theater Queens!!!!

Girls, The Raving Queen is not only that; I am a Drama Queen (Oh, my GOD!) and most especially a Musical Theater Queen, which means not only that I am nicer than one of those Vicious Opera Queens, but, well, let's just say if someone somewhere is doing a production of, say, "The Baker's Wife," I will flock to it just to hear the actress in the title show sing the ballad, "Meadowlark. Hell, I would even want to play the baker's wife!!!!!

The husband hunting was put on hold yesterday, because at 10 am I had to be at Town Hall--yes, darlings!--for a presentation by Theatreworks USA of various adaptations of children's books. Featured were "Duck For President," "Fancy Nancy" (which, next to what I will report on, was my favorite, and let me tell you, should be staged at The Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Center in New York, because I am telling you, lambs, there would SUCH self-identification!) "I Have To Go," "Pirates Don't Do Diapers!" (and neither do Raving Queens!) and the fetured spot on the program--Baby Mouse, The Musical!" which was brilliantly conceived as a two act piece, and was the only one to get a second installment. Girls, they have done right by my niece (Jennifer Holm) and nephew (Matthew Holm),whose Baby Mouse (based on a French poodle owned by the family of yours truly!) books have taken off into the stratosphere. Not quite like J.K. Rowling, but after what I saw, they are on their way! And the actors were all so cute--including the geeky guy: maybe I could go out with him!--performing full tilt at 10 am is not an easy feat. Hell, at 10 am, girls, I barely have enough coffee in me to do this!

Darlings, this was the freshest, most exciting presentation I have seen in my recent theatergoing. They certainly did a better job with this than the revival of "The Miracle Worker." Baby Mouse needs to branch out and get her own show, board game, or something; I believe negotitaions are underway for a cartoon, and wouldn't that be fabulous. I wonder who would do the voice of Baby Mouse????

So you can see, girls, my husband hunting was put on hold, which is just as well, because it looks like that well has run dry. Talk about Blance Du Bois; I may be ready for a cell next door to her! But I am going to persevere in a little matter I have not told anyone here about, but if it strikes I will let you know at once, girls. The only clue I will leave you with, is that somehow it all harkens back to my past!

After the show, we went to Bryant Park where the kids rode the Merry-Go-Round, and then were going to the top of the Empire State Building, which was just too much for me, loves! So I went home, crashed, changed into something more comfortable and dashed into the city for a late lunch and a much needed Bloody Mary!!!! Which zoned me out, which was just what I needed. Then I met Harvey and the Girls later for coffee!!!!! It just never stops, girls!!!!!

And now here I am back with all my darlings, thinking of going to see "The Cartel" tonight. It examines public education in New Jersey, and you know how bitter I am on THAT subject, honey!!!! Then tomorrow, I have to get meds, pack, buy a bus tkt, pay bills, in prep for a weekend trip Friday to PA. It just never stops, I am telling you!!!! I guess you will all need roller skates to keep up with me like Rollerena!!!! No, girls, I am NOT secretly Rollerena, though I have an idea who IS, and I will share that with you another time! Meanwhile have a rolling day, and watch out for the further adventures of Baby Mouse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Love to all, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, My Life Is Like The 60's Sitcom "Kaaren"--I Am Always In A Whirl!!!!!!!

Girls, yesterday I forced myself out of the house at 11:42 so I could make Audrey's Beads for Life party by one. That I made it was more of a miracle than a testimony to the efficiency of the NYC MTA system. Audrey had some lovely baubles which I bought, and wine and garnishes, which I ate and drank. Her parents were there, and were SO charming; her father needs to get out more, I think, so I am going to have to drag him to The Monster, where he will be the hit of the evening, especially when we go downstairs to dance!

Then tomorrow I have to be in front of Town Hall at 10 AM to meet my sister, my niece and her son, my nephew, his wife and two chiildren, my other nephew--and with me that makes 9 of us to see the unveiling of the theatrical work "Baby Mouse--The Musical! Lunch at Carmines is sure to follow which means I will be a Lady Who Lunches, and get drunk, or maybe cap it off with some Bloody Marys downtown. I also want to see "The Cartel" which examines how bad education in New Jersey is--hell, I have known that since 1973!!!! And thanks to Jodee Blanco, I can now say my bitterness and resentment is justified. Comeuppances will eventually be gotten, just as they will elsewhere, concerning the likes of Grotesque Creature.

See what a whirl it is? And this is nothing compared to the weekend when it is to PA and back. How do I do it! I simply tell all my girls on here what is going on, because I know they all wanat to know. Just like I am going to tell off all those skanks who think SATC is so great--give me a break!

"Sex and The City" is cheap dirt! Take those bitches, pile them on a slag heap and leave them amidst the filthy landfills on Staten Island! That is the only city on which THEY belong!

See you soon at the hottest spots, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, A Word About MEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!

First off, darlings, they ARE pigs, but there is nothing necessarily wrong with that, because what I know about moi could get me kicked out of Miss Porter's. But for shallow superficiality, darlings, it is hard to top the male sex.

Consider the latest results of my husand hunt. I had this very nice email on you know where from this guy who, to all intents and purposes, seemed to be right, and he even indicated the possibility of that too. Then he finishes off with the following-- "The one thing we have in common wouldn't satisfy us in the bedroom. I"m really sorry."

Nice of him to say I'm sorry. To me, there are two ways to read this. The first is that it is an understated way of saying we are both bottoms (I describe myself as a sccial top but a romantic bottom) which I agree would be a deterrent, but if that is the case, then why not just come out and say that directly? Because the ambiguity of the statement suggests the old blunt routine, "You are terrific but I am not attracted to you."

First of all, bitches (and I am referring to ALL men now) you have had the rest, now try the BEST!!!!!!!!! Secnd, in my times, honey, there have been plenty of gentlemen I have known who were not exactly matinee idols, but were more skilled, sexually speaking, than their more buff contemporaries. Like that guy Dan, who was bipolar. He was cute in a sort of nebbishy way--he was no Eric Evans or Titan Media model, for sure but again, darlings, neither am I--but he was very good sexually. He knew how to satisfy me and relaxed enough to let moi take care of him. For as long as our aborted whatever lasted.

The point is, girls, that some of the hottest looking guys are duds in the sack, and vice versa--some of the duddest guys are hot as firecrackers!!!!! Which is what my emailer simply cannot grasp. He thinks a Titan Model will make things complete. Well, I have news for him--like the line in "A Chorus Line" says--"These bodies don't last forever!!!!!!!!!!" Take note of this, darlings!!!!

Someone quoted Dan Savage to me as saying that "every relationship fails, except the one that doesn't." Sweeties, at this point, I am just trying to get a coffee date, not a mind blowing experience. I have had those, by the way. Not that I intend to give up. But when you get turned down like this, it calls into question what people are really advertising for.

Are we selling product honeys? Are we working the streets/ Or do we really want a relationship. I know I want the last, darlings!!!!!!!!!!

See you at the cotillion, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, I Have A Shocking Confession To Make!!!!!!!!!!!

No, girls, I have not murdered anyone, and this is not nearly as bad as Richard Gere and the gerbils. After all, we girls have to have our coffee every morning!!!!!

Recently, I read a terrfic book by Peter Ayckroyd called "The Casebook of Victor Frankenstein." It was a new take on the Mary Shelley classic, and it compelled me to re-read that again, and start again about the 1931 Universal masterpiece.

That is when I discovered, though I had long suppressed it, that I always had the hots for Fritz. Now, Fritz, you may remember, was Dr. Frankenstein's (Colin Clive) hunchbacked assistant, who was played by the brilliant actor Dwight Frye. Now, maybe I had the hots for Dwight, but it was really when he was in character as Fritz that my hormones went raging. You know, darlings, he and the Doctor were getting it on. It was clear from the film (and remember James Whale directed this, so it makes sense) that while Dr. Frankenstein ruled in the lab, Fritz ruled in the bedroom. He was cute, hot little, hunchbacked, agressive Top, and the doctor was just a big old Bottom!!!!!!!!! I would not mind making it with Fritz, let me tell you, he would give me a fun time, I am sure! And he is so CUTE!!!!!!!!

Girls, you have followed my travails on here of husband hunting; compared to what I have been through and what I have had, Fritz looks good! So, if any of you out there know any nice gay male huncbacks, just contact me on here. And no, I am not talking about Linda Lavin. She is uglier than a hunchback, no disrespect to the hump ridden. Hell, maybe she needs to get humped!!!! I sure do, darlings, and it takes a MAN to do it, and Fritz could be that man!!!!!!!!!!

So that is my confession, girls! Have some coffee this morning, and don't forget those weekend Bloody Marys!!!!!!!!!

Love to all, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Get Off These Steps, You Trashy Wench!!!! Get Off This Land!!!!!!!!!!!"

No, darlings, that is not me talking to Linda Lavin, though I just might say to that to her someday. It is what I will say to the homophones who have committed the following.

Now, girls, you know how ardently I have been searching for a husband on Match.com. And you know how difficult it has been. Well, yesterday the difficulty was compouned by this email I recieved. It was from this too young (28) firefighter named John, who bills himself as "niceguynyc1." Well, I am looking this over, and discover that he is a man looking for women. I thought someone at the site has made an obvious slip up, so I email the guy, with a sense of humor, saying he better check with them because last time I looked I was not a woman. Later that day, I get an email saying he is interested in "the gay experience." Now, I will admit, I am suspicious, but, hell, I am also open minded, darlings, so respond back, saying if he wants to meet for cofffee and talk, fine. He replies--and I quote--"I want a blow job. Interested?"

Maybe he doesn't have much to blow, which is why women are not responding to him. Though with this personality, it is a wonder anyone would. By the way, he hails from Morris County, New Jersey. So watch out, folks!!!!

Needless to say, I deleted and reported him. Personally, I would like to see him castrated. Hell, I will do it myself, like Ellen Page was going to in "Hard Candy."

As if that is not enough, girls, this morning, I get another email saying that yesterday morning the LGBT Center here in New York, was the victim of a hate atttack.
It seems when the staff went to open yesterday morning, they found a burned rainbow flag draped over one of the outside display case posters. To which I reiterate Scarlett's line from above. And if anyone starts with ME, darlings, they may get the Hard Candy treatment.

Finding a husband and being gay are bad enough. But, girls, we do not have to stand for it, and I don't care if it is your family, you spit in their faces and tell them what their trash can do.

And, girls, if I find the trash who did either of these things, I will dump them all in the garbage!!!!!!!!!!

Back to Bungalow 8 soon, girls; I promise!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We Have A Winner, Girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For awhile there, I thought we would not have a Bitch of the Week this week, but then I searched my memory and recalled an incident going back fourteen years that gave me this candidate. I also did some searching on websites and found out via others that the reputation is justified.

The winner of this week's Bitch Of The Week is...........Linda Lavin!!!!!!!!!!!

Now, no one admires and appreciates actors than I, darlings, so I really hate to tell on one. I mean, the Megan Mullally thing was inexcusable. It was something that just suddenly popped up. But this little anecdote with Linda Lavin happened to moi, darlings. And I was not doing a thing!

The time was about 1994, when Lavin was preparing to go into Wendy Wasserstein's
"The Sister Rosensweig." It was a Lincoln Center Theatre production, so I guess she was rehearsing, or maybe tending to business, like contract signing, up at the Beaumont. Well, loves, I happen to work near there, and one evening in the spring of '94, I was walking from Amsterdam to Broadway. As I proceeded along, I passed the car underpass, and the walkway, leading to the Beaumont stage door. There was, and still is, a smal, ridged embankement, across from the door, which a peerson, if so inclined, can sit on. Now, ninety nine per cent of the time, I have never seen anyone sitting on this embankemnt. But that night, I did a double take, for sitting there, smoking a cigarette, was Linda Lavin!!!! I was so startled, my eyebrows instinctively went up, signalling I recognized her. She's not Blythe or Meryl, so I had no intention of running over; I did not say anything. Well, she acted like I did, or was just about to, because she gave me this look that could kill with her eyes that said "Don't even THINK of talking to me!" Well, fuck you, bitch, I wasn't planning to anyway, and even if you had a bad day that is NO excuse for your behavior, especially when I did nothing. I kept right on going--as I planned to.

But this incident is NOT forgotten, which is what makes Linda such a bitch. A wonderful actress, to be sure, but a bitch. I have heard from others she is difficult, and, girls, have you heard about the story where she called Joan Riveers an "ugly Jewish broad," then said she (Joan) did not have the talent to pull it off.
You know who is ugly??? You are, you Lavin bitch! No wondeer Ron Liebmann divorced you; he probably couldn't fucking stand you. How this bitch gets work is beyond me, because she makes it hell for everyone on the set. And how about "Gypsy?" The idea of replacing Tyne Daly; she couldn't even keep that show going for a week! And how on earth do you ruin "Gypsy?"

Then answer is--Linda Lavin. So hats off to our Bitch of the Week, which yours truly has personally experienced. The next time, you see Linda, darlings, glare back at her! Give her some of her own medicine!!!!

Unitil next week, (the Bitch) darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, I Am Feeling Like Such A Bitch!!!!!!!!!!!

At least the water this morning, darlings, was fresh, as it damn well should be!
But would you believe this? First, I get turned down on Match.com by some academic sort, who says we aren't a good match, and let me tell you, sweethearts, he is NO Titan Media model. THEN the same place emails me this guy, who is 28, much too young for me (although, remember 'Meadowlark", darlings!) and it turns out he is looking for a WOMAN!!!!! Now, all my girls on here know I do NOT have a vagina!!!! The last time I checked--which was this morning in the shower--I certainly did not!

So tonight I am going out on the town--either theater, or a dinner, and if I feel like being a bitch, I will be a bitch!!!! Look out, world! Get off of MY fucking runway!!!! And with 30 year resentments simmering and about to explode like in the great 'Baby Jane' tradition.

And just think, girls, tomorrow we have to talk about a REAL bitch--the Bitch of the Week! At this point, even I have no idea who it is going to be!!!! I guess we will all just have to wait and see! Plenty of cadidates, though, darlings!!!!!!!

Just make sure you are not one of them!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, Underneath Your Wimples, I Hope You Do NOT Have Curlers In Your Hair!!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, I almost had to curl my hair this morning. Imagine my disgust, when I discovered, all soaped up and halfway through my shower, that the water was coming out this disgusting brown. This better not happen tomorrow, because te prospect of cold showers does not thrill me. But better that than not being fresh and sparkling, which I cannot afford not to be in my glamour position. So I am not putting that curling iron away yet, and don't you girls do, either.

Nor am I giving up on Match,com, even though I cannot even get a lousy COFFEE DATE. I guess I am expected to look like a Titan Media model--well, good luck, guys, do you think any of YOU do? If you did, you would not be on the site either.

Feeling better after yesterday and trying not to be a bitch. Maybe a tirp to the theater? We shall see? In the meantime, I have to get ready for all the debutante balls this spring, darlings!

See you girls there!

Darlings, How I Want To Fly Out That Nursery Window!!!!!!

Girls, I cannot tell you how emotional this weekend was. First, I ventured out to the scenic splendors of Ironbound, Newark, New Jersey, where Tom, my cherub, and I had a fabulous meal at a charming neighborhood Portugese restaurant. Darlings, I am sure if the Fatima kids were in town, they would dine here! Then off we went to NJPAC (New Jersey Perorming Arts Center0 which, to this New Yorker, felt like being at the Met. I mean, sweethearts, the architecture was practically the same. We were there to see Patti Lupone's concert program "Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda", songs she has done, wanted to do, wished she had done. Patti was--what else--Patti! The evening alone was worth it just to hear "Meadowlark" sung onstage. It brought tears to my eyes and tremors to my heart, and I am sure I was not alone. Of course, every queen on this side of Hudson paddled over to Newark for this experience, but did any of them sit near me? Did I meet anyone? Are you kidding?

Now, in this show Patti also sang "Never Never Land" from "Peter Pan." The next morning, I knew I had to be up and about, for the Memorial Service for my friend, David Semonin, who died two months before. Imagine my reaction when the back of the program contained the lyrics to the aforementioned song, which we all sang at the end of the service. How I got through it, I do not know. But I AM a trouper!!!!!!!!
And it WAS for David.

This morning, girls, I am a mess, as the painful actuality of David's passing sinks in, and I catalog all those who have gone before me. Now I am sure I will perk up at some point, darlings--maybe a new gown, or maybe a weeknight visit to Manducatis or a Bloody Mary--but right now I am not at my perkiest. Is it any wonder I am disgusted with Match.com? Who are all these jerks who THINK they are athletic and toned? Give me a break. Can they do the Donna McKechnie stuff I do? Can they fall back as far as I? I don't think so, darlings!!!!!!

You just better watch out. I may be in some bistro in the near future doing "Meadowlark" myself; I have always wanted to tackle it, and with work I know I can. And of course I will do "Frank Mills." What would Shellley think if I didn't? Or Martha, for that matter.

Let me know what you think, darlings. But as I told David towards the end, I am like Brooke, and I intend to survive. But no one said it was easy!!!

Have a drink for me, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well. Girls, I Am All Ready!!!!!

Ready, that is, for the Patti Lupone concert tonight, where I am sure every queen on this side of the Hudson will be trekking to Newark tonight for. Ready for my memorial tribute tomorrow for David. Ready to be assuaged by the latest Stephanie Plum novel. And ready to stop being rejected by guys on Match.com., even if young Juan at BookBook says he knows others who have the same problem. I am telling you, girls, the single life is only fun up to a certain point. Look, it can't even get you into Babbo. Now if I were with Stanley Tucci, that would be different. Where are you, Stanley. Let's celebrate your show triumph at Babbo. You can thank God you are not associated with "The Addams Family," but then you wouldn't want to be. And after THOSE reviews, girls, who is going to admit it--cast or crew. I predict by Tony time this show will be a seasonal footnote. You would have to PAY me to see it.
If they had used MY show stopping suggestions, the show would be a hit. Like--
"The Addams Family started,
When Uncle Fester farted.
Morticia is retarded.
The Addams Family. (snap snap)"

But you can see how I am listened to, darlings, who gets NOTHING on Match.com. Well mark my words--before the year is out, I will have someone. Even if I have to drag the streets. Meanwhile, it is off to Newark and Patti. We LOVE her!!!!!!!!!!!

And love to you all, my darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, If You Are Gay, Then Veda Is A Role Model!!!!!!!!!!!

I am, of course, talking about Veda, played by Ann Blyth, in the Joan Crawford film classic "Mildred Pierce." My heart went out to her the moment she said, "It's the dress. It's awfully cheap material. I can tell by the smell." Dman right; no K-Mart knock downs for Veda or us. She taught gay men that if you buy something you BUY THE BEST!!!!!!!

In the meantime, my weekend is going to be like Rosalind Russell in "Mourining Becomes Electra." First, I HAVVE GOT to have a Bloody Mary. Then I have to find a book to get me out of the mood set by "Frankenstein." Then I have to go to a birthday celebration for LITTLE JASON!!!!!!!!!

Somewhere tomorrow, I have to cook and clean. I have to meet Tom in Nweark at 5:45 so we can get to Patti Lupone's concert in Newark. Then on Sunday I have David's Memorial Service, Dignity Homoletics, and service. Can you see why I am so exhausted, girls? Why I slather on extra night cream? Why I need a husband??

Of course, Veda would have no problem finding a husband, especially a rich one. Even if she has to go to prison for it. So maybe we should join her and be someone's bitch, instead of our own!

Lights out, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, Today We Set A Precedent!!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, can you believe it is already Thursday. That means it is time here at The Raving Queen for....Bitch of the Week! And this week's winner is a gem, because for starters.....he is a man!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, darlings, after all the dates and failed relationships I have racked up, I can assure you there are plenty of male bitches out there. And of course I am one myself. But this week's selection takes the prize for arrogance and hubris.

The winner of this week's Bitch Of The Week is........Rob Ashford!!!!

Right now, Mr. A is directing and choreographing the forthcoming revival of "Promises, Promises," which every New York Theater Queen, especially those of us of a cergtain age, are excited about!!!!!!!!!

Now, Rob might have looked cute in his little sailor suit back when he was doing "Anything Goes" with Patti LuPone, but it is time for him to shed that getup and get into a "Follies" moomoo, about the size of Mary McCarty as Stella Deems!!!!!
Why am I coming down so hard on Rob? Because, girls, the scuttlebutt on the street is that he is jettisoning the Michael Bennett choreography in favor of his own. Well, he did a nice job with 'Millie', but honey, he is NOT Michael Bennett. No one is, except maybe Donna McKechnie and Baayork Lee. And as any good TQ knows, this was the show whose original production put those two gals forward in the show stopping Act One finale, "Turkey Lurkey Time." The word on the street right now is that the number does NOT work. Well, without the Bennett choreography, duh, wadda ya want? Would you want to see "West Side Story" minus Jerone Robbins?

I am calling upon Donna and Baayork right now to get down to the theater pronto, and dish it to Rob, or kick his ass aside so they can step in and show the cast how it is REALLY done, so that it will be the showstopper it should be. If someone does not stop Rob Ashford, his inflated ego is going to start thinking he is some kind of GENIUS, and we cannot have that happen. There was only ONE genius on "Promises, Promises," and only ONE reason the show worked, and that was Michael Bennett's staging. Oh, sure the Bacharach-David score is a gem, but without Bennett to visualize the songs they would not have worked.

So we salute the hubris and arrogance of this week's bitch, Rob Ashford. May Donna and Baayork get there in time to undo the debacle he is creating. Hell, if they were there nightly, I would be there EVERY night!

Make sure you are there when I am, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, Sometimes It Takes A Twisted Tale To Cheer One Up!!!!!!!

.....And let me tell you, darlings, you could not ask for anything more twisted than "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo;" which outdoes my youthful sex life by miles. The guy who plays Blomqvist is HOT; and the actress in the title role hits all the right notes. The use of photo imagery, editing, and music in this film is brillilant. And the Vanger family--what a bunch of sickos; they make the Borgias look like the Clampetts. Be forewarned, darlings, this is NOT "Green Acres." But you should see it, girls, because when it is time for Hollywood to film this, as they plan to, they will not push the envelope the way this version does, and the story SHOULD push the envelope. And speakking of pushing, wait till you see the scene where Lisbeth inserts....OOOPS! I can't tell.

Darlings, I need to inserted behind a table with a handsome man over coffee, drinks, dinner or something. Persisitence, huh? As I told someone, it worked for Veda, so I am not giving up. But can you beleive what I am going through. I know about lemons and frogs that you have to kiss until you get a Prince, but how about Fritz from "Frankestein?" Now, Dwight Frye as Fritz was HOT; anyone know some nice gay hunchbacks out there? See how demented I have become? I think I need to get away from Mary Shelley and back to Lauren Weisberger. Or at least Shelley Plimpton.

But it is spring and we are hopeful, darlings! Have a lovely, spring filled day, and check out the above for a nice, cheerful, twisted tale!

Twist THIS, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Will It Be Drinks, A Movie, Or Both????????

Girls, who knows? If I see the 'Dragon Tattoo' it will be a long evening. If I dine it will be early but elegant--what is a darling to do? And all of this I have to do alone, loves, because there is no one to do it with. I am telling you, I getting so goddamn mad I am going to blow a gasket when I would rather blow someone else! Or have them blow me! I am not even looking at the Great Neck house now, I want comapanionship; I mean, I am beginning to feel like the Frankestein monster. at least Cucumbo sent those things flying out to bite people. I'd like to send out a few love bites myself, personally. So wish me luck tonight, darlings, because who knows what is in store. Hope I make it to the board tomorrow, loves!!!!

Toodles, angels!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, Damn RIGHT This Manhattan Bitch Dresses In Silk And Satin!!!!!!!!!!!!

To hell with Leonard Bernstein, this bitch is dressing in silk and satin. The post Easter slump has me feeling like a bitch, as my Easter was pretty dismal---from an window mishap in my apartment, to a failed date Saturday evening, dining alone on Sunday...no wonder I am thinking of seeing 'Dragon Tattoo' tonight--serial killers, didos, incest--just what I need to take the edge off.

Keep your edge off, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, We Have To Make Plans!!!!!

I am feeling like such a bitch! Easter was a bust, no dates in sight, what am I supposed to do? Go see some serial mureder films? I don't think so? My life better start getting like MGM or I am going to sic The Flying Serpent on someone!!!!!!

Girls, Are We Ready For The Ceremonial Reenactment Of The Tomb??????

I almost forgot, darlings, what with all there is to do this Easter weekend, to remind all you girls, that when the first ray of sunlight hits the sky tomorrow morning, we have to bounce out of bed in our sarong and long hair, looking like Mary Magadalene, as we reenact her carrying spices to the tomb, to annoint the body of Jesus!!!! Myself, I plan to go as the Carol Baker Mary, with the short, tight, red adulterous sarong, and flowing dark hair. Some of you may want to go for a more subuded Mary, like Yvonne Elliman, and you can also sing "If I Can't Have You."

So bounce out of bed, and frolic into your yard or street, and spray whatever spices you have on hand in the air. This body, girls, needs a lot more than annointing, but it IS Easter and we have to remember what to comemorate. So fling those spices wisely and well!!!!!!

It is going to be FABULOUS, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Are You Ready, Darlings!!!!!!!

Well, girls, it's Holy Saturday, and after Good Friday yesterday, what with meditation in a churchyard, reading "Frankenstein," listening to a choir and then scarfing down some Bloody Marys, it was a full range day, that took the edge off it being the 31st anniversary of my mother's death, and all the attendant baggage from the past that it brings up.

But now it is time to ask--Do you have your Easter bonnett, brunch reservation, and white gloves? Because if you haven't there is very little time left to take your place in that grand display of the Human Condition in New York, known as the Easter Parade. Sweethearts, it is on a par with Thackeray's "Vanity Fair."

Let's hope my vanity at least gets stroked by tonight's potential meeting. If other things get stroked....no, darlings, NOT on a first date. This is not what we were taught at Miss Porter's. Not even Charles Neslon Reilly!!!!!!

And speaking of things Riely, David is still hopsitalized in Chicago, with a stomach ulcer. I am telling you, girls, that child has got to watch himself. One of my Davids has bit the dust; I don't need another doing it so soon. What with just having lost June Havoc and now John Forsythe.

My evening outfit is appropriately understated, girls, though I have opted for a spring, pastel red and yellow look. In the meantime, don't forget to boil and color your eggs, hide those Easter Baskets, and have a joyous Easter no matter what you do!!!!!!

You're doing great, girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Girls, We've Made It To Another Maundy Thursday!!!!!

Darlings, I just love the sound of that phrase, but even I have been confused by it. I used to call it "Maudie Thursday," and people would get confused, thinking it was a tribute to Bea Arthur. I don't think she was at the Last Supper, but who knows. As most theater folk, this is the night the Apostles, hopefully scrubbed and manicured, sat around, eating and drinking wine while singing--

"Look at all my trials and tribulations,
Sinking in a gentle pool of wine,
What's that in the bread? It's gone to my head,
Till this evening is this morning, life is fine.

Lambs, if my trials and tribulations could be reduced to a bottle of wine, well, wouldn't I be better off. Alas, such is not the case, so you will have to settle for moi.

Last night, pets, we had book club at Audrey's, she with the fabulous view and an ever approaching event that has all us girls, reeling. She was actually generously offering her abode to our host, Steve, who instigated a discussion of Graham Greene's "Our Man In Havanna." And that is not all. But, first, let me say, we just ADORE Steve, and certainly I, darlings, not only for his elegant habedashery and resemblance to Stanley Tucci, but his urbane and cultured wit, and his intellectually brilliant and handsome partner Brendan, who turns divinely. Brendan, alas, was out of town, and was not available to twirl and swirl for us. Quel domage!!!!!!!!

And what a sumptuous meal--between Audrey's marinated lamb ribs, Peter's potatoes, the fresh asparagus, the flowing wine, and this wonderful sorbet that Julia denied was homemade, but who are you kidding; when it comes from Julia, darling, you better believe it is homemade. How she has time to be a culinary wiz AND a high powered attorney is simply amazing.

But back to Steve, for a moment. At one point he was discoursing on an acquaintance of his, who happens to be seeing Frank Bruni. Yes, dears, THAT Frank Bruni, he of the New York Times, and the author of "Born Round." Now, I am not one to dish, but would you believe they met at Phoenix Bar? In the East Village. I mean, I would not even pick up a roach there, and as for the East Village--well, you can bet Aunt Pittypat wouldn't be caught bar hopping over there. She would go to the West Village. But who am I, without a husband, to cast judgement?

I could care less where they met. But when Steve told us how Frank had a cameo in the final scene of last year's enchanting film, "Julie and Julia," you can bet this Raving Queen's ears perked up. The scene, of course, is the fabulous rooftop party scene, where Julie, played of course, by the exquisite and radiant Amy Adams, comemorates ending her character's project by serving the ultimate Julia Child spectacular meal--which you had better believe I am working up to, darlings, for when I host book club.

I was fascinated by Steve's account. According to him, Frank said it took most of the day or night to shoot. Well, girls, that's how things go in movieland--do you know how many takes I have to do on a scene, before I am satisfied????? Such happenings are commonplace and typical. BUT when he said that--now girls, pay attention--Amy Adams was a bitch, well, I needed a moisturizer!!! Now let me give it to you straight, lambs--Amy Adams is NOT a bitch! She is decent, and fine, and pure. She radiates charm and graciousness and eveyone's skin tones improve within her presence because of the radiance that emanates from her. Frank had better watch it there, what with that widow's peak of his (as if HE should talk!), which is more than proof that I need that he is simply jealous because the scene was not all about him, and that he is not as pretty as Amy Adams. Not that I am saying I am, loves--heaven forbid!!!!! The ONLY one as pretty as Amy Adams is--AMY ADAMS!!!!! Make no mistake about that.

Naturally, I will be watching Frank closely. I am even going to read "Born Round." At this point, darlings, he is looking REAL good as a potential future Bitch of the Week on here!!!!! And before I am through, before he melts in front of me like Margaret Hamilton--a glamour girl,compared to him--he will rue the day he called that epithet to Miss Adams!!!!! No one says such things about our beloved Amy!!!!!!

Nevertheless, it was thought provoking, so I must thank Steve for providing such superb material for today's blog. And the bottle of wine he bought was scrumptious--I just mixed and matched, till I felt like Tallulah Bankhead!!!!!
In the meantime, last night was another crowning social event in my whirlwind life. I even had a dream last night about being on the 'Julia' set and basking in the Adams radiance. A sign from Amy, for sure!!!!!

So, darlings, remember, when it comes to the bitch laden or the pure in heart, THIS is the source for all!!!!!! Have a fabulous Maundy Thursday and one Hell of a Good Friday!!!!

And we love you, Steve!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Darlings, Once Again It Is Time For....Bitch Of The Week!!!!!!!!!!!!

One thing I have learned in the past week, girls, is that while there is an entire constellation of bitches out there, sometimes they seem to just pop up out of nowhere. And such is the case with this week's Winner....that used-to-be-talented and soon-to-be-washed-up actress....Megan Mullally!!!!!!!!!!

Poor Megan, she had such promise. I recall her back in 1995 as Rosemary in the Matthew Broderick 'How To Succeed' revival. I mean, honey, when she sang "Happy To Keep His Dinner Warm," I knew just what she was talking about, and she was on a par with Bonnie Scott, the orginal Rosemary from back in 1961.

And of course Megan shone so brightly it led to her being cast as Karen on "Will and Grace," where for years she and Sean Hayes stole every scene from Debra Messing Eric McCormick. But a funny thing happened to Megan during the course of that long run, I guess; she became infected with Shelley Long-David Caruso syndrome, and began to think SO WELL of herself that the character of Karen began to take over her actual persona. At least, with Ronald Colman, it was Othello!!!!

All of this culminated for poor Megan last week during the rehearsals of the now defunct revival of "Lips Together, Teeth Apart." It seems that as far back as February, when rehearsals began, Miss Classless Diva Megan got too big for her panties and started pontificating how her leading man, Patton Oswalt, was not experienced enough theatrically to appear on the same stage with her. As if she were Meryl Streep or Judi Dench, for God's sake, which, after seeing Megan in "Young Frankenstein," I can assure you she is NOT. And who does Miss Megan tell this to? None other than another potential bitch of the theater community, Mr. Joe Mantello, a singularly talented director, who, I am told, directs through intimidation. Which would not work for ME, darlings, because if Joe tried to intimidate me, he would soon find himself going Bitch to Bitch. Which he did, this week, with Megan. Not only did she have the temerity, dears, to question his casting acumen--which is flawless, by the way--she deigned, like the Wicked Queen in 'Snow White' to imperiouslyu suggest a cadre of actors more suited to play opposite HER> I mean, get off it, Megan!!!!!!!!

Well, Joe, like a good Bitch, stood his ground, and good for him!!!!!! You can bet there were some choice words said to Megan about acting like a professsional; I mean, this outdoes even Eve Harrington!!!!! But little Miss Megan, oh, no, she is not through yet, and conspires behind Joe's back to get Oswalt repalced. Until I am sure Joe exploded, the you know what hit you know where, and Miss Mullally not only stormed off the set, but out the door, abandoning show, contract, everything, because she thought herself too fine a figure to appear with Patton Oswalt.

You couldn't ask for a better Bitch this week than Meagan. But chickens come home to roost, darlings, and this will come back to bite Megan again and again. She will NEVER work on Broadway again, girls, not only due to this blog, but due to the numerous charges I am sure Equity will bring her up on. I can see it now--back to Hollywood--do a defunct 'Karen' spinoff, then a talk show, then the bowling lounges, and then plying her faded wares on the corner of Hollywood and Vine. Good luck, Megan, because by that time, no one is going to want YOU. Hell, after last week, no one wants you NOW.

So let us raise a Bloody Mary, Vodka Gimlet, or whatever your drink of choice is to our Bitch of the Week, Miss Megan Mullally. The theater community, for a long time to come, is going to be hard pressed to top this one. And this in a businesss where every other person out there is a bitch.

Love to all my darlings, from your favorite Bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!