By On the occasion of our 20th anniversary
By Gustavo Arellano
By R. Scott Moxley
By Alfonso Delgado
By Courtney Hamilton
By Joel Beers
By Peter Maguire
By Charles Lam
And hey, GOP? You could still have a slew of dirty-talking, hard-fucking beauties adorning your yacht parties, if you just wouldn't be such a fucking drag.
* * *
Two of my least-draggy local Republicans, fixer Mike Schroeder and his angel wife, Susan—Susan told me her New Year's resolution is to "be more evil," to which the only proper response is a befuddled "How?"—along with Susan's sister Laura invited me out to dinner and OCPAC for The BoyFriend, directed by Julie Andrews.
Christ, it blew.
I was very surprised when it ended that such a light, Riviera-set "farce" was actually a poignant tragedy, our poor little rich girl abandoned by her feckless lover, who it turned out was a thief. (That's what you get for singing "I Could Be Happy With You" before you've actually spent five minutes with your bellhop lover, whose name you still don't know, and whom you haven't even Van Dorened yet!) Except, as it happened, there was still another act. That made me sad, because as I was out smoking and people were stampeding for the exits saying, and I quote, "Jesus, that was fucking torture," it turned out I had to go back in for more.
Wouldn't have missed it for the world. You know how I love things I hate!
Mike looked like he wanted to shoot himself in the face, Susan tried unsuccessfully to mute her guffaws (actually, she probably wasn't trying at all), and we all made loud, catty remarks about the horse face, skinny legs (of which we saw far too much) and "French" accent of the second lead, Madame Dubonnet (Nice by way of Leningrad); the purported heterosexuality of all the men hoofing it on the stage (the game male lead is best-known for his role as Marcus, the sweet-eyed model lover of the short bald guy on Sex and the City); and Julie Andrews' heck of a job direction.
They should have put Mamie to the task; I bet she could come up with a light little (XXX) farce I'd actually like to see.