As posted last week, I had the honor of performing at Garden Party 25 here in NYC.
I ran into Winnie McCroy who was covering the event for Gay City News.

Broadway star Gavin Creel from "Mary Poppins" performed for the crowd, as did Eric Himan, Robert German, and Stewart Lewis, young, personable singers volunteering their time for the cause. "Gay Pride for some people is about celebrating their sexuality... and that's great, but my boyfriend and I like to do stuff like volunteer doing face-painting for the Center Kids. It's rewarding, but also, it's needed," said German.

Check out the whole article on
Gay City News' website.

Muskrat Mucks it all Up

I previously posted a blog about the pigs that were slaughtered after swimming through flood waters to the safety of a levee.
It was feared that the pigs would compromise the integrity of the sandbags.

It looks as though the real threat here, is the muskrat, responsible for the destruction of a levee in Missouri.
Oddly, the culprit in question looks suspiciously similar to the Rant's very own entertainment and food critic, Chester Devonshire III.

You be the judge...

Exhibit A: Muskrat


Exhibit B: Chester Devonshire III.


Chester was out sick this week with a headcold. Coincidence?

Be Prepared!

I have been saying for almost two years that the United States is heading into a
2nd great depression. We live in what I call a false economy or a credit economy.
It's simple. We spend more than we make. We are a country of consumers, not producers.
We have been financing a war that we didn't have money to fund in the first place.
We've been borrowing that money mostly from China.
People have heard me say this and looked at me like I am off my nutter. If you remove the facade, I believe that we have been in recession for the last 5 years, an invisible downward slope.

I stockpile canned goods and large bags of rice, the kind of behavior that crazy people on compounds in Idaho do.
K used to laugh at me for this and then this year what I have been seeing is finally starting to rip through the facade of the false economy. Costco started limiting the number of bags of rice that people could buy at one time. People began losing their homes at alarming rates. The layoffs have begun. If that isn't scary. I don't know what is.

It's not comforting to know that what I have been seeing is probably true, however it is comforting to know that I am not the only one who sees it.

The Basement Sessions

B-Sides and Demos

Coming Soon...

Earlier this week I sat down with my friend, the lovely Miss Candy Samples, an actress
to record an episode of her podcast.


The episode is now available on iTunes.
Listen now.

The very existence of flame-throwers proves that some time, somewhere, someone said to themselves, You know, I want to set those people over there on fire, but I'm just not close enough to get the job done.

George Carlin

Your Period

Since adding the recent posting titled "In Heat" I've
gotten a flood of letters from young girls who
don't fully understand some of the changes that are happening
in their own young bodies.

These can be very confusing times. Menstruation is normal, just like breathing.

To help these readers out, I want to hand things over to our friend Molly.
This video in two parts will explain it all.

In Heat

There's something I'd like to share with you.
It seems almost obscene to share this with you.
Ok. Here goes. Are you ready?
Oh, I'm not sure if I can tell you.
Ok. I'm going to just say it.

I have a black pussy.

Those are words I never expected to come out of my mouth.

No, seriously. I have a black pussy.
I've even named my pussy, I'm so fond of her.

Her name is Sheba and she is a sleek black cat with angular features.
She's the kind of cat that inspired Egyptians to carve statues.
So, I have a black cat constantly crossing my path, sitting on my lap and purring. I'm fine with this. I'm ready to break mirrors and dance under ladders inside with my open umbrella. I laugh at superstition. ha ha ha.

One evening while K and I were in the kitchen we heard a cat meowing. This was the beginning of the end for us. I previously posted how she broke into our aparment and refused to leave. We didn't so much pick her as she picked us.

All was fine in our little world with the addition of our new friend. After a while we noticed that her nipples were kind of big and pink, a feature found in cats that are around 3 weeks pregnant.

We found ourselves in a moral dilema. Do we take our lady friend to the unplanned pregnancy clinic or let her carry the litter to term? I could not handle a cat abortion. The thought of it made me ill. There are two schools of thought. We face a cat overpopulation problem with thousands of strays mating unchecked. There are cats in shelters waiting for homes and when a person brings kittens into the world, they are more desirable than adult cats, so people tend to take the kitten over Grizabella, the skanky old tabby sitting in solitary confinement at the cat clinic, waiting for the guillatine to drop.

K ended up at the local petco speaking with a crazy Brittish woman who is a volunteer for the Kitty Kind cat rescue and adoption organization. She ended up running him out of the store screaming that he was a murderer as she was convinced our cat had already given birth to kittens that were in the alley and we had taken her away from them. We are almost absolutely sure that this is not the case. For the first few days she had the ability to leave the apartment freely but stayed inside. She was also not lactating.

So, we've been anticipating the birth of kittens and even started to find homes for the unborn offspring of our super sexy kitty.

And then...

A few days ago, Sheba began to act strange, constantly meowing, the meowing getting louder and sounding more satanic. After checking her food and water and litter box, we could not figure out what she wanted. Then she began raising her ass up in the air with this longing look of painful desire. She discovered that the fridge had a vibration to it and began doing things I dare not repeat.

The other morning we woke to find that she was gone. Just as she had broken into the apartment, she broke out. I called out into the alley and heard her meowing back. She climbed over a fence and climbed back up to the window and came inside.

I dare to think of the brutality she must have faced out there in her state of unbridled arrousal. We were cooking the next day with the kitchen window open and discovered how she had escaped by shimmying her way between the window and the screen, climbing up the screen and pushing her body against the glass to pop open the top and climb free. We thwarted her attempts at running away for another night of premiscuous alley sex. Not while she's under my roof, I thought to myself.

Deprived of the alley, she entered a desperate needy state, rubbing up against anything she could, howling like the damned. A lesbian friend had suggested something involving a cuetip, but I won't go into that. I will not go there. I refuse to be part of that dirty little solution.

So, we made an appointment to "fix" her little problem. However, it isn't happening for 4 weeks. I'm crossing my fingers and praying that she didn't get knocked up the other night. As previously stated, I refuse to subject my pussy to a 2nd trimester abortion.

Who knew that having a pussy would bring such moral dilemas?

Capitalism is folding in on itself

Sometimes I wonder if every generation has felt like the world was ending.
Apocalypse seems to go in cycles, but when will it stick? When will this planet
get fed up enough with human beings that it will unleash enough incurable diseases,
earthquakes, mudslides, wildfires, cyclones, floods and reality tv shows to drill into the skulls of humanity
that we have royally fucked this place up and Mamma earth aint happy about it.

Regardless of whether you imbue the planet with a personified emotional state, ready to shake off humans like flees or see this place as a godless rock in a meaningless void, you must surely have noticed that the small corner we've cut for ourselves isn't doing so hot. Blame Bush. Why not? He seems like a good scapegoat. I'm all game for digging in the toolshed to find granddad's old torch, stop by the hardware store for some tar and eagerly pluck the feathers out of my luxurious bed bath and beyond comforter. Really though, as much as king George II has done to flush the economy, world relations and human rights down the drain, I think one would be hasty to paste a stamp of blame on his empty cavernous head.

I blame capitalism. The very thing which has made this nation such a world power is the very thing that is causing it to implode. Ok, so capitalism is great in theory, but it's structure has no checks and balances to help control greed. Everyone wants a piece of the pie, but once they've had one slice, they want another. Before you know it they have the whole pie. Why find satisfaction in one pie when you can have the whole pie shop? Why not two pie shops, the pie factory, all the cherry trees, flour mills and every pie tin. Now that they've got all that and the millions, make that billions it brings, they're still not satisfied. They have to buy out all the competition and desimate the towns where they had built factories. God, this money is like a drug. How can they make more money. Fire all the local workers and ship the factories to china or india. Yes, they don't have to pay them very much and they can have more money, piles of it.

I think of this as trickle up economics. So the people who worked at the pie shop and the pie factory aren't doing so well. They start putting expenses on credit cards because they can't afford to live in a nation with so little pie. The banks that loaned that money aren't doing so well, so they have to borrow from the government. The government isn't doing so well, so it has to borrow from china. Well, china's got all the factory money coming in from all the pie manufacturing, so they don't mind making the most powerful nation in the world their bitch. It, afterall is part of their plan for world domination. Stupid Americans, so arrogant.

While this is going on most people are so fascinated with buying crap they don't need because it takes their minds off the fact that the carpet is being pulled out from under them in their foreclosed homes. Btw, that crap they don't need was made in china by people who took away their jobs.

I found it fascinating to watch elaborate arrangements of dominoes stacked and stretched for miles. All that work and then one little flick and you watch this chain of events that is quite breathtaking.

The Quiet Before The Storm

Some of you have commented on/noticed that I've been a little quiet lately, which is odd for someone with such a big mouth. I have been secretly plotting a little something and gathering together the elements to make it happen. That little something is the building of a recording studio in my apartment. It has been progressing in leaps and bounds.

There are two exciting things on the horizon, the announcement of the official release date for my second album, Sunrise at the Speakeasy and a series of bootleg tracks (demos) that I will begin sharing with you. Though I can't provide details right now, I can say that I am about to flood the world with a lot of music I've been keeping in my back pocket. I can't wait to share these things. If you have a request for a song that has been done live but never recorded or for a different version of a recorded song, let me know. I might be taking special requests if you ask nicely.

Garden Party 25

On Monday I performed at Garden Party 25, the largest fundraiser event for New York City's LGBT Center, held on pier 54 and hosted by the hillarious and very awesome Kate Clinton. I love this woman. If you haven't checked out her Hillarity Clinton vlogs, I recommend you give them a look and listen.

When I got to soundcheck I was greeted by a familiar face, that of fellow singer/songwriter Eric Himan. Eric had soundchecked earlier so he was kind enough to show me where to go and all that jazz. Eric and I met a few year's back when he stayed at our apartment while visiting New York for an open mic with my then current boyfriend's ex boyfriend. (head spinning yet?)

Garden Party was full of wonderful food, drink and great performers. There was one small hitch. When I got on stage for my actual performance, I went to strum the guitar and nothing...silence. Inside I began having a small panic attack. This was a first.
I tried to give the tech guys time to fix the problem by doing an acapella rendition of flapjacks....still nothing but silence. They came on stage, pulled me off stage, stalled...put me back on stage...pulled me off stage. Finally they were able to fix the problem and I performed Lemon Scented and Fishnet Sailor for a very warm crowd of 2500 people, the number that was quoted in the thank you email I received yesterday. The whole situation was kind of comical. You never know what's going to happen when you perform live, so you just have to roll with the punches.

Despite technical glitches, the night was quite enjoyable. I was able to see Eric perform again. K is very fond of protest song, which I have to agree is a nice addition to Mr. Himan's repertoire. Gavin Creel performed as well. I must admit that I didn't know who he was, but as soon as he was announced K became very excited. Apperently K's first broadway show was Thoroughly Modern Millie, in which Gavin not only performed but for which he also received a Tony nomination. So there you have it. That's how I spent my monday night. Who said Mondays are boring?

Goodbye George Carlin

George Carlin, one of the most brilliant
subversive figures in American comedy
died yesterday. I absolutely adored this man
for telling it like it is, in a way that only he could do.

Governor of California likes Ass

On Monday, June 16th, the same day that I found myself celebrating 30 years of hard living
on the third rock from the sun, California became the 2nd state in the Union to perform legally binding gay marriages.
Arnold Schwarzenegger, an Austrian born republican (really?) is currently that state's governator.

I must admit that as a young boy I had a small crush on Arnold Schwarzenegger back when he did his Conan movies. There's nothing like a well chiseled gladiator to send a young boy's heart a flutter.

In honor of my schoolboy crush, here's some vintage governator.
I think Arnold could have had a real future doing a travel show, but alas, that ship has sailed.

An Avid Bacon Lover Laments the slaughter of sandbag pigs

It's a well known fact that I have a rather unhealthy obsession with bacon or as I like to call it PIG CANDY. However, I also have an extreme fondness for pigs. I've never fully been able to reconcile these two opposing loves. So, when I saw a story about Iowa officials killing a group of pigs that managed to swim to the safety of a levy after being left behind in the floodwaters, I obviously had conflicted views. If the pigs were not also used to provide bacon for some homeless family in Iowa, then their deaths were indeed senseless. Ok, not senseless. The pigs were poking holes in sandbags with their hooves and rooting around, but you get the idea.

More on the pigs...

A note from Chester

Let me start by introducing myself. My name is Chester Devonshire III.
Many of you know me from my books, The well plated Dinner Party and Nuts for Nuts.
I'm thrilled to join the staff of the Rant. Starting next week, I will be giving you a front row seat to the very best that the entertainment world has to offer. Additionaly, I will be sharing my expertise as a world renowned food critic, giving you the scoop on the most exclusive dining experiences from the world's most accomplished gourmet chefs.
I look forward to the dialogue that we can have as new found friends. After all, I owe my success to you, my humble readers. Without you, I would still be burying nuts in my backyard back in Toledo. Instead, I am able to write for one of the internet's most prestigious publications.

Thank You and God bless America,

Chester Devonshire III.

Fear

The beauty of the world has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.
-Virginia Woolf

29

Is it celebrating 30 or mourning your 20's?
I think I'm torn and yet, I know that I am
not. Soooo. Thank you to the wonderful people who came out
to the Zipper Factory despite a monsoon season in Manhattan.

You were all beautiful and amazing.

Most of all, I want to thank George.

Mister Lee,
How can it be that you're so good to me?

I feel that I have reached a transitional period.

I loved this show with all of my heart, but in a way it was
waving goodbye.

Goodbye dear twenties. You wore down the parts that needed to be polished and you
left alone the ones that were good as they were. Goodbye to the first phase of my adult existence and hello to a better me.

I will take out the trash, and I will drop off the laundry. I will forgive myself for not being perfect and I will say goodbye to the socks that litter my floor with holes in the back from my being too rough with them.

I vow to clean the balls of wax out of my ears and listen a little more in this new decade...both literally and metaphorically.

I vow to get to bed on-time sometimes.

Oops. I broke that one already.

Thank you everyone who has supported me as a musician, a friend and even sometimes as an enemy. You have made me better, all of you.

Thank YOU!!!

Doctor Ruth's Box

To live in New York is to constantly brush shoulders with celebrity.
Sightings are common and frequent ranging from A-list to Z-list. I once worked at a clothing store with that guy Justin who was the runner up in the first American Idol.
I must say that he wasn't a very nice person. I once helped Jeanine Garafalo pick out an outfit that she wore later that day to the MTV music awards. I've seen Taylor Dayne without her makeup. She's very kind and short. I once had to arrange a helicopter for a nobel prize winning phycisist and got to talk with Olympia Dukakis about her role in Tales of the City. I love her as Mrs. Madrigal and she confided that it was her favorite role. After 10 years in New York, you start to lose track of celebrity sightings. You can't throw a brick in this city without hitting a model or actor.

Yesterday I had a celebrity sighting of sorts, well not really, but it cracked me up. I was in an elevator and a messenger got in after me and stood in front of me. For some reason I decided to look at the name on the box that he was carrying. It looked heavy. There it was, plain as day "Dr. Ruth Westheimer" the cute little old lady sex therapist. I thought about how I could notate the address in my head and later stalk her. Why would I want to stalk Dr. Ruth? I wouldn't really have the desire to stalk her, but it would be nice to have the information should I go batshit crazy and feel the need to spice things up a bit. After quelling my desire to become a crazed criminal stalker, I began to think about what might be inside that box for Dr. Ruth. It will always be a mystery, but I can always fantacize.

The Seaman's Warf

The Sailors and the fishermen

come in this bar
to drink their gin.

The seaman's warf is always full
of scallywags on wobbly stools...

a parade, three martinis, scissors and a stray cat

Yesterday the alarm went off way too early for even strong coffee to remedy.
K and I rushed to the train to the port authority to join the dredges of society and catch a bus. We got there with no time to spare and piled on to an Adirondack Trailways beast bound for New Paltz where I was set to perform for their gay pride celebration.

I did a short set (3 songs)
1.Fishnet Sailor
2.Flapjacks
3.Walking Song

If you've never been to New Paltz, it is indeed a magical town or village as they call it. It is a town at the epicenter of the marriage equality movement in New York, a cause in which I have been very involved for the last couple years. K and I met last year on May 19th, when I was performing at the Marriage Equality March in Brooklyn. He was filming the event for the NYC LGBT center's television show. It was love at first sight, literally. I told my friend Marc that K would be my boyfriend before I had spoken to him and before he had seen me. It's funny that he is the one who approached me.

So we marched with a group of high school students, had some weird herbal alternative to coffee at a hippy dippy artist collective coffee shop. You know the place. There were white kids with dreads wearing tie-dye and drumming outside. The smell of patchouli was wafting out into the street.

I spent way too much time in the sun yesterday and being the whitest thing short of albinoism, I find myself irregularly burned today in the places where I failed to slather on the SPF 50. I need to be fitted for some sort of gauze sun condom before I'm allowed to brave the elements again. Thus is the curse of being a pigmentless creature. My ex-roomate Piia used to call me Robster the Lobster.

We got back to the city way later than planned due to some sort of traffic calamity in New Jersey. I had to cancel a rehearsal with Jeff for the Zipper show. We've been rehearsing a lot. It's interesting to have piano on top of some of my songs. I'm so used to being a lone entity that it feels like a new de-virginizing territory to explore.

We met up with Laura for a drink after the exhaustion of the day. A drink turned into 3 martini's...sheesh. For some reason I didn't really feel the effect as much as I should.

We got home and I began cutting K's hair. I've only cut his hair twice, and both times have involved booze. One would think the combination of scissors, alcohol and the close proximity to my boyfriend's face might be a bad idea, but somehow it works out. Though I haven't seen him yet today, I do believe I did a good job.

We have been seduced by a stray cat. We started feeding her out of pity and now it looks like we may be adopting her. Am I ready for the responsibility of keeping another creature alive? Is this the stepping stone towards adopting a Chinese baby?

This morning, the cat broke into the apartment by destroying the screen on the window. She wasn't looking for food but rather companionship. She curled up next to the bed and woke me up by purring.

Ugh. I hope she doesn't have some sort of flee and/or mite infestation, rabies, scabies or some other cat pestilence. She's very cute and has a sweet nature. We have been calling her Isis. she looks Egyptian. It's fitting. I'm so not ready to be a father.