Chet was a rare sexy specimen at the parade, but apparently he’s straight. He won the High Heel race again this year.

I’m thinking about this outrageous proclamation because at Baltimore Pride last weekend, a straight friend commented that he was really shocked that the guys weren’t so good looking and almost none of them were in shape, but Baltimore has never aspired to be Miami. I don’t think that it has ever aspired to be anything other than what it is and has never given much of a shit about any place else. But I do suspect that the gay community here would be a lot hotter, if the “straight” guys came out of the closet. That’s one of the problems with Baltimore Pride.

But the thing is, it doesn’t matter what you look like. You can be shaped like a gourd and be proud. The biggest problem with Baltimore Pride is that there are never enough drag queens. Every year there is only a small group of queens walking through the parade, lumped together and doing their damndest to add a little glitz to the otherwise humdrum event.

I really don’t want to sound like a hardass, because we had a blast this year. There just needs to be more sexy boys and tons more drag. How could that not improve any event??

Chet finds an errant drag queen to pose with.

Augusto is very active on the theatre and art scene. One night I randomly saw him on the Letterman Show singing back up (in drag) for Cyndi Lauper, but I was more impressed when I found out he made a film or two with wacko exploitation filmmaker Andy “Bloodthirsty Butchers” Milligan.

This is Adam. He is a musician here in Baltimore.

And that gets me to thinking about Winnipeg, Canada. There’s something wrong going on there that’s sending chills up my spine. It’s not the cold that I associate with Canadian weather, it’s the local queens–visually terrorizing everything and everyone in their wake.

In the photo above, COCKTAILIA and PICTORIA SECRETE sexually assault a perfectly innocent phone booth while Gloria Booths breaths heavily into the receiver. (Though there is a resemblance between the phone booth and GLORIA BOOTHS, there is no relation.) What is going on here? The photo is begging for a caption.

And I’m glad that the news hasn’t reached Canada yet, because poor Pictoria still hasn’t heard that there is no cleaning up a filthy queen. You can’t even Shout! It Out! She’s probably just putting her back alley tramping shoes through the rinse cycle.

I didn’t know the queen pictured above very well, her name was Jose and when she put on the roadkill wig and applied lipstick she became Josephine. I don’t know whatever happened to her, but I hope she still looks as good as the day I took this photo.

I can appreciate all types of drag, even the girls who go for the beaded gowns and Dynasty-era styling. This type tends to be a little too serious, but I will bow down to their effort, dedication and attention to detail. The opposite end of the drag spectrum is what I really love, Skag Drag. I think the first time I ever heard the term was from the late artist Jerome Caja.

Jerome was an incredible artist who would paint with nail polish. I was more of an acquaintance of his, but I remember being either at his studio or apartment and seeing boxes and rows and rows of different shades of nail polish–a manicurists wet dream. It struck me as brilliant and totally innovative that his paints had the built-in brush and that he could use them on himself as well. Probably because his paints came in such small amounts, his work was really, really small.

One of my favorite pieces was a portrait of Bozo the Clown in the middle of a used Band-Aid, blood and all. A few years before he died (1995), he was in a big show at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art and it was a thrill to see all these wild drag queens and gay punks mixing it up with a bunch of overdressed socialites and museum members.

Jerome’s visual presentation of himself was his other art. He was tall, very thin and had long blond hair. His make-up style sometimes looked as if he applied it in total darkness and he would wear clothes that even the Goodwill would throw away. Wearing a feather boa and dirty mens briefs and high heels with tube socks was an actual look I saw him sporting once and I thought, “That’s fashion!”

Sadly, I don’t have a single photograph that I took of Jerome and will have to cherish the countless times I’d see him and hear the shrill laugh that was such a part of his undeniable presence.

Photos of Jerome were taken from his myspace page.

Angel wings look like shit on nearly everyone. They’re too cutsie on children and everyone else either looks like they should be in a choir or are trying too hard to get laid. I also secretly think that Michael Alig killed that guy (whose name was Angel) because he always wore angel wings and not because of drugs. The Party Monster killer proved that angels go down pretty easily with a blow to the head from a hammer.

But today I am saddened because the only angel that mattered to me is dead. On Tuesday, John Phillip Law, who starred as Pygar in Barbarella died. He was also the super sexy, incredibly fashionable criminal mind Diabolik, of Mario Bava’s fantastic Danger: Diablik. R.I.P. JPL.

Photo Top: Every Halloween no matter how cold it is, you can always find an angel. They are pretty to look at, but I prefer their demonic counterparts. Photo Below: Two friends this past Halloween dressed as Pygar and Barbarella.

Are my pads showing? An exposed boob pad is not as bad as a trail of toilet paper stuck to a high heel, but it’s still somewhat upsetting to see. I suppose it’s a small price to pay…there are so many other things that could happen that would create a much worse wardrobe malfunction.

We can prevent wardrobe malfunctions by discarding completely with the wardrobes. And that wouldn’t be so bad on certain people.

Yesterday’s Feast of Fools podcast with Peaches Christ inspired me to dig out some old Polaroids from my San Francisco days. Peaches, Marc and Fausto were discussing Phillip R. Ford‘s sci-fi drag epic, “Vegas In Space” and I thought I’d share some photos of the director and stars of the film
I met Phillip R. Ford in the late 80s. He masterminded a drag troupe that consisted of Doris Fish, Miss X and Tippi and they were called Sluts a Go-Go. They put on manic skit comedy and produced these crazy drag productions of movies like “The Bad Seed” and “Valley of the Dolls”.
I think Phil Ford influenced me in ways that I never realized until this writing. He was an inspiring friend––a showman whose work I really admired. He created tawdry theatrical productions—and he got to hang out with glamorous drag queens. It represented a creative life with no shortage of fun. Phil is doing well and still lives in the Bay Area.

I was in awe of DORIS FISH. Something about her just exuded that, “I am a Star!”-quality. Maybe it was the Australian accent that sounded like old Hollywood to me or her blindingly white teeth. When I saw her in the SF Gay Pride Parade (I think ’89), I had my camera with me and ran up to get this photo. And proving that I have always been stingy about giving photos away, I even refused Doris when she asked for one!

TIPPI was the sweatheart of the group. She was so cute and friendly…kind of like a pet. Visually she was like an out of control flapper trapped in the body of Shirley Temple. Her giddiness was contagious and you couldn’t help but love her.

I clearly saw these people as celebrities since I had them sign their Polaroids!

Mexican’s aren’t just gang-bangers, kitchen help or street peddlers of oranges. I should know I’m Mexican, so I can get away with bringing up such stereotypes. Actually, my entire adult life I thought I was half Mexican, but last year I found out that my dad is a quarter Apache indian too. Neglecting to share that kind of information is typical in my family, but I love them anyway and now I can make fun of Indians too.

I love Mexican culture. The passion, la musica, los luchadors…even the religious fervor is strangely appealing. I grew up on the best Mexican food and I think my grandma would be proud of my cooking..it is authentic, though I know I will never make homemade tortillas. But I will make some kick ass enchiladas tonight to celebrate Cinco de Mayo. This is a far cry from a party I threw a couple of years ago which was more about Taco Bell and mayonnaise…Cinco de MAYO…you get it.

The Polaroid above was taken in Calexico, CA several years ago. Calexico is on the Mexican border and across the border into Mexico, the town is called Mexicali. I love that. The Polaroid below is of Charm City Roller Girl jammer The Mexican Fury. She skates on my team of choice, The Night Terrors.

HAPPY CINCO DE MAYO!

Donald loves American Apparel and more than likely has every color that the deep-cut V-neck comes in…probably to show off his chest hair. I’d wear deep-cut too…if I had chest hair. Let me know what you think of this photo…I have more. And did I mention that 95% of all of my friends are straight??? Yes, Donald is happily married, but I secretly think he likes looking sexy for both men and women. It’s a straight man’s prerogative.

I took this Polaroid of Heklina one night at Trannyshack a couple of years ago. The fab Heklina started Trannyshack after I moved away from San Francisco, so it was cool to finally check it out and hang out at my old haunt, The Stud. I can’t remember exactly what I told her, but I think I said, “Act like a starving refugee who just heard that UNICEF dropped some supplies for your village.” I find that giving descriptive direction really helps get your shot.

I would love to know whatever happened to this queen. She was a great make-up artist and was always up for a few cocktails and photos. Last I know, she went into rehab and I tracked her down at a Macy’s cosmetics counter in Philly… then she was gone. Maybe she’ll see this and get back in touch with me.

On the other-hand there’s this freak (below) who stood me up for lunch today. When he asked me yesterday to meet for a bite to eat, I couldn’t really believe it because he only eats lunch meat and the closest he says he will ever get to eating a vegetable is a potato chip. Obviously, he is straight.

Thank you Fausto and Marc for allowing me to contaminate TastyZine with some of my work. If you want to know more about who I am, check my bio or drop me an email.

As most of us have heard, Polaroid has decided to discontinue their amazing instant film. That is a disturbing bit of news to people like myself who have been shooting with the stuff for years and consider it their medium of choice. I have a decent stash of film that will probably last me a full year and during that time I will be taking the most amazing photographs to shock, amaze and titillate.

What I’ll do here is upload some of the new stuff as well as share images from my extensive Polaroid archive. I wondered what FoF listeners and readers would like to see and decided: cute boys and drag queens, obviously! So that’s what I will be posting… more than likely with some deviation here and there, but we’ll see how that goes.

Hope you enjoy my work! Please check back every Friday and Monday for a couple of fresh photos.

This is an older Polaroid I shot of two drag queens years ago. I love this type of drag. They’re the kind of girls who really do look as if their names are Madge and Phyllis. They’re the kind of sweethearts that won’t bother competing with the more traditional beauties and are content to dress like 13-year old girls going to their first Junior Prom.

I think this guy’s expression is actually smoldering. How does one do that? He just exudes so much sexiness. I study this shot when I want to perfect my “sexy look”.

I had to include a Polaroid of Wilma Martinez on my first post to Feast of Fools. I know Fausto thinks she’s a hot betch and can’t wait to get a wet lap dance from her… don’t worry, Fausto, it’ll happen!

Wilma is one of the great fashion and glamour leaders of the world. When she’s not doing outreach cosmetic and make-up tutorials in third world countries, she often entertains at one of the local schools for the blind.

Nikki LeFaye is Baltimore’s human Canary! Trapezing above the crowd, swinging inches from cocktails and gawking fans…and the girl doesn’t even need newspaper under her perch!

Actually, this is an accessory that encases the entire head and the awesome thing about this is that it takes only seconds to construct and comes in countless styles. Our local brew is National Bohemian or Natty Boh. Remember, these wonderful head constructions work with domestic or imported beers!-Photo by Jim Lucio.