Is Angela Di Carlo, one of the shining stars of Bitches in the Sky (the photo novella written and produced by moi), actually a wisecracking fag disguised as a woman?

I say yes.  Although only her husband, Cooby, knows for sure.

Happy Birthday, Angela!

She was a lioness!

Ellen Stewart, founder of NYC’s legendary La MaMa Theater (in 1962) and champion of the offbeat and avant-garde, has died at age 91.

By the time I made my playwright debut at La Mama in 2008 with The Bad Hostess, she wasn’t around on a daily basis.  But her presence was strongly felt.  For one thing, she insisted that the color green (unlucky!) be devoid from her stage.  (And my play was set at Christmas!)

But I did see her frequently at La MaMa throughout the years.  It was a tradition for her to introduce shows, and her commanding presence made it clear that she was queen of her domain.

Scores of performers, including myself, bow down to her in honor.   Thank you, Ms. Stewart, for allowing us to do our own thing!

As Sylvia London and I left my apartment building last night a few snowflakes were falling.  How sweet.

We were on our way to a party for Olympic skater Johnny Weir‘s new book, Welcome to My World. (Thanks for the invite, Spin Cycle!)

I think Johnny is fantastic.  He exemplifies the flamboyant self-confidence of a new queer generation!  I was determined to get a photo with him.

Mission accomplished!

As the bash wound down, someone told Sylvia and I about the debut of new gay party, just a hop and a skip away.

So we might as well walk, right?  Even though the snow was piling up by this time.

At first, our little jaunt was a playful adventure.

Look, we're snow hookers!

But being outside soon lost its appeal.

Soggy Linda.

Unfortunately, the party did not meet our high standards of fun.  So we did what any smart drag queen would do—We hailed a cab!

Our destination was G Lounge‘s Boybox party, which features an accomplished ensemble of striptease artists.

Sylvia found her favorite.

As an extra bonus, the hostess was flawless sexpot Amanda Lepore, who told me she was recently a guest judge on Austria’s version of “Top Model.”  She’s such a celebrity.

Amanda speaks!

Then Sylvia and I trudged through the snow in our high heels one last time to catch taxis home.

Today my calves are killing me!  Johnny Weir, I know your pain!


(Huffingtonpost posted a photo of me, Sylvia and one of the gay blades from The A-List.)

(See more pix from the night on my Facebook page.)

Did you know it’s Drag History Month?  So decrees LGBT cable network LOGO:  “Logo celebrates those who dared to be different (and fabulous at the same time) with a loving tribute to the brave drag queens and kings who have contributed to our nation’s rich cultural heritage.”

So how come I wasn’t contacted?  I’m historical (yet young) and brave (yet femmy) and have made a huge impact on our culture (Yes!).

Oh well, at least it’s an excuse to post more old photos.  After all, it’s Drag History Month!


WHEN: April, 1991

WHERE: Carnegie Hall

WHAT: Downtown drag bohemia infiltrates NYC’s most prestigious music hall when avant-garde darling John Kelly performs a concert as his operatic alter-ego, Dagmar Onassis.

How do you get to Carnegie Hall? Do drag!


Tabboo! and me as a blond!


Nan Goldin, Tabboo! and Siobhan


Madame as Ekaterina Bachinskaya and John Kelly


Sister Dimension applied a wart to the tip of her high-society nose.


Pearl, Charlie Atlas, Kate and Richard


Byron Suber, munching at the reception.


Ice cream! Tom Rubnitz, Sister Dimension and Pearl


What fabulous inspiration for a historical TV mini-series!  Are you listening, LOGO?

I grew up obsessed with the world of Andy Warhol.  Amazingly, I’m now a work colleague of one of his famed 1960s superstars and underground film actors, Taylor Mead, who just turned an impressive 86.  (He was already middle-aged when he joined the Factory clique.)

On Mondays we have back-to-back time slots at the Bowery Poetry Club.  He reads his poetry and strolls down memory lane, then sticks around for my Bingo gig, playing along as his pills-and-liquor high kicks in.

Taylor is delightfully ornery, irreverent and trés gay.  Although he rarely remembers my name, we have a good rapport.  The evidence: My interview with him on this video reel.


Happy Birthday, Taylor!  I admire your stamina!