So we hit up the Dark Lady block party Saturday night — it was a HOT TRANNY MESS!

We’re talking specifically about the below comparison between Saturday night and the next night at Therapy, can’t a Miss Gay Rhode Island afford a new outfit? To donate some clothes, drop them off in one of the Bartender of the Year ballot boxes. The tranny will get whatever the boys at Divine Providence can’t fit into.

We say, just plain don’t ask.

Anyway, when we realized that the drag show was going to go ALL NIGHT LONG, we scooted over to Mirabar for, well, nothing exciting.

Anyone who was out in Providence at all this weekend knows some weird shit happened — and we’re going to do our best to remember ANY of it!

Friday we bounced around the usual shitty-ness. Mirabar was all decked out in flags (of our fathers, we presume) with DJ Richard Michael spinning in place of DJ Ken Sima who was entertaining lesbian pit-bulls in P-Town all weekend. That was all well and good until a fight broke out on the 3rd floor and someone got attacked by someone else who retaliated by smashing a glass back into the face of the attacker! We think these two prefer to remain nameless, but don’t mind mentioning that Mirabar GM Paul Murphy chose not to throw them out…

So don’t hesitate to make it personal at Mirabar next time some queen steps on your new white kicks. It’s all good, girl!

Energy was busy with it’s usual Chad Brown Projects (and occasional Trixx rent boy stripper) crowd. We knew it was time to leave when we were worried we were going to slip on fluids left over from a disturbing 5-way “dance-off” in the main room.

We think the following photo speaks for itself…. in spanish.

Tuesday night we get roped into going to a 21st birthday party for Derek at Recess. Actually, were kind of curious about what was going to happen — our friend Dolly got a call from Big Scotty asking her to produce “jello shots, a cake and a whore” for the party… we’re in! The way we saw it, some jello shots and a stripper to get all the straight guys juiced up and sloppy would give us an easy in, so to speak.

Well it didn’t, so we resorted to Dark Lady, where nobody’s straight – the only jello is in Sabrina’s ass, and nobody should be stripping! Again, skipping down Richmond St. past Mirabar’s Cuntry Western night. We’d rag on it a little more, but it was our 2008 Mixologist of the Year pick that dreamed that nightmare up; it’s like Brokeback Mountain but with zombies.

Dark Lady wasn’t the worst thing however, karaoke can be pretty horrendous Tuesdays as it’s many times just a replay of Monday night karaoke at Mirabar. It turns out that sometimes people can sing.

Since we’re starting on our reality binge, the fun doesn’t end there… we went to afterhours!

We’ll never actually say where it is, but if you were there you could probably figure it out. We walked in this place around 2:30am FILLED with strippers and bartenders, which was weird because we were asked to bring mixers. Aside from the usual crowd that gathers, our friend Debbie was in the kitchen with CORDS (like, a/v style) sticking out of her head, attached to a little box on her ass! (can anyone get a picture of this???????) Our other friend Mickey was trashed (and due at the airport in 2 hours) and unable to get a satisfactory answer about this Aeon-Flux inspired fashion accessory. Turns out it’s medical, so don’t make fun, ya’ll!

Well, that was way more fun!

So we were talking to some our friends and faithful readers the other night, and the general consensus is that we go out and do the same things all the time every week; which is true. We keep running over the same info and shit tends to get a little boring (so you can imagine how boring it is to write).

So we’re going to go a little communist-chic and start naming names, happy reading!

Thanks Cory!

So Wednesdays are our usual Retro nights, as has been the case for years… and years… and years. Although it was packed as usual, sometimes we stray off; like last night when we went to check out a new Dance/House night over at Fahrenheit on South Water St. Don’t visit their website though, it leads to some weird virus-porn thing that almost hints at the STD-ish feeling you get when you sit on the old upholstered furniture there. We’ve never been there before and only found out about it because our Energy fav’s DJ Tommy Stylez and Jeff Leclair were doing a set.

Outside of their website, we found out that the place actually serves dinner normally, not always a good sign of a jumping house night — but no matter, we already SAID we’d go.

This place aims (according to the flyer) to host a series of Therapy-type DJs to bring about some kind of fun straight-ish dance night worth going to… let’s say they have their work cut out, and it starts with not shutting off the music at 12:50. We almost shit ourselves sitting at that red light right before the Point St. bridge trying to get back downtown for last call somewhere — ANYWHERE.

Fortunately we found refuge double-parking on Richmond St. and running into Recess at 12:55 with the drunken frat boy crowd, saved!

Like we said before, there are 5 other categories for Providence’s best gay bar bartenders to win an award in, and here’s what we think of that!

Best Mixologist

Henry Duarte, Mirabar
What other bartender can spend his whole shift wasted (etc…), mix you a Mongolian without you or him remembering what goes in it, and still have it taste the same as the last one he made you? Nobody! That’s, who.

Best In Class

We reject this category on principle. There are no classy people in Providence.

Hottest Body

Kevin, Alley Cat
We give this pick to Kevin rather than the Trixx boys because we see him around more! Nobody seems to escape the black hole that is Big Scotty Allens Ave.

Most Milage

We reject this category as well (rather than give it to Henry as most would expect). Everybody knows they’re all whores; that’s the best reason to be a bartender in the first place!

Anyway, if you can even find one of these ballots, remember that your contact info is required and that it gets handed over (for $$$) to Marriage Equality Rhode Island.

Those committed bitches need all the names they can get!

We’ve never heard of this before, but apparently there’s some award given out by local rag Divine Providence (Michael Slade… hehe) that attempts to name the city’s best gay bar bartenders in 6 different categories. We remain skeptical and insist that this is some kind of joke, so instead of voting, we’re going to name our predictions for the outcome (and why!).

The categories are as follows:

Best Bartender of the Year

LaDiva, Dark Lady

We had a hard time trying to figure this one out (sort of). We asked around a lot to see who everyone voted for, and we got a lot of different answers from “she never charges me” to “he’s hot”. We don’t buy any of that.

LaDiva bartends probably 5 nights a month (which means she never has the chance to blow us off at the bar or annoy us in the usual cunty bartender ways), she’s one of the only drag queens that looks great, lady-like and is sweet as pie everytime we see her, and most importantly — we can’t ever remember what she charges us for drinks.

Who could ask for more? Not us.
Who will probably win? Michael Slade.

We rag on Chris Harris a lot, mainly because he can’t keep a weekly going in town. But that doesn’t stop him from throwing the giant parties we’ve come to depend on to make us remember that this place doesn’t totally suck.

This year we have Military Ball at Therapy, which we love — DJ Dena upstairs and the usual Volume crew downstairs.

We won’t miss it.

Read more…

So, it’s a well known fact that these days, Thursdays in Providence suck for fags.

But that doesn’t stop us from trying our hardest to get liquored up downtown to forget about it.

We skipped right over Mirabar, as is our new custom on Thursday nights; Strip Poker just doesn’t get us going like it used to. That, and all of the college boys are on their way out and the twinkles (twinks with wrinkles, old joke, we know) aren’t looking any younger… or thinner. Well, at least we know they’re off the drugs.

Anyhow, we dropped right into Dark Lady, which is usually pretty reliable Thursdays — too bad it also sucked. The music was fine, even though we had heard all of those songs there (weeks) before. We were even asked at the door to compete in the horrendous Hot Body Contest because participation was low. We opted out in the interest of preserving our dignity. We took the start of the contest as our queue to exit as Haley Star abruptly took stage to dance out some obscure number that we rarely pay attention to. I mean, she’s not even interesting in an obnoxious way…

Next we hopped over to Energy with the hope of finding some trace of what Thursday nights there used to be. Like we said last week, Volume has had little luck bringing the place back to life, despite new lighting in the front room (a couple black lights…), and having control over Tuesdays AND Thursdays for weeks now. Do these people want money AT ALL?

DJs Tommy Stylez and Jeff Leclair, who we loved-loved-LOVED downstairs at Therapy for the Calderone party a few weeks ago, remain embarrassingly underused at Energy Thursdays (we love Vicki and all and don’t miss an opportunity to chat him up when we see him, but we couldn’t stay out of that downstairs). Anyway, they had fun playing for the three base-heads out-of-it enough to work it out on the dance floor and *surprise* still not spend any money.

What are we going to do about this place? Remember it used to not be so shitty?

Well no matter, summer’s coming up and we have it from some reliable mouths that things are going to get a whole lot more interesting. So don’t fucking go get that cheap beach house down in Misquamicut for 4 weeks because you think the city’s going to be a drag, you pussies!