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Your One Stop Shop For Bad Grammer!
I spent a very cool Sunday at the Santa Barbara French Festival which is (and I quote), “the largest French celebration in the western United States. So, you know, west of the Mississippi, Santa Barbara is where it’s at, French Festival-wise anyway. Le Beckalina drove up from Lala land specially for this event, so I had companion who properly appreciated the absurdity of a name tag that said “Bonjour, Je m’appelle Jacques Chiric!” and once we finally met up (at the foot of le faux tour eiffel no less) much fun was had. The whole event was marvelously kitchy. There were booths all over Oak park selling berets and fake Monets and crepes and escargots and French fries (they’re French! No, really!) and all sorts of other stupid things I totally didn’t need but bought anyway. There were also stage shows of dizzying variety. In the space of four hours we saw a Josephine Baker tribute act (the actress was wearing fake plastic bananas of the PlaySkool variety around her waist), an incredibly good CanCan performance, an escapee from the church choir with her vibrato set on “death warble” singing La Vie En Rose, A Middle Eastern music ensemble with a belly dancer who was really damn impressive, and the Femme Fatales Drag Revue starring Buffy, Miss Belladonna, and Antionette lip synching to Tina Turner and Madonna. All that and we still missed the Poodle Parade. Welcome to France, care to stay for a while? Other (mostly non-scheduled) entertainment included the fact that the actor hired to play Napoleon got very drunk before the afternoon was over and felt the need to get up and dance, first with a female festival goer whose sarong skirt kept falling off, then with the Middle Eastern dancers, then with the drag queens, and then with some very strange combination of the three. Becky and I also got a huge laugh out of the fact that there was a German cultural booth at the fair selling (of course) brats and sauerkraut. It was largely deserted and placed malevolently way at the back behind the stage … right next to the port-a-potties. Again, welcome to France, kick your boots off. We resisted the urge to take our pictures 1) as the Mona Lisa 2) with our heads in the Guillotine and 3) in front of the maybe 20ft high “Eiffel Tower” which was at the center of the whole thing. I also did not take pictures of half-naked sarong woman, poodles in sweaters, the sign with (correction in parenthesis) which read “bon(ne) chance,” or Buffy the 6’5” drag queen in a skin tight denim body suit and 4” white heels. I’m sorry, or you’re welcome, depending on how you look at things. I conclude with a little conversation sampling: “Becky, where are you?” “I’m just getting onto the freeway, are you there already?” “Yes I am. Hurry up you’re missing the drag queens!” “Oh no! The drag queens?” “Yes, hear that in the background? *….when you’re good to mammaaaaaa… mammas goooooooood to yooooouuuuu…* Chicago! Drag Queen! Hurry!” “Okay, okay!” Later “I’m here, how was the drag act?” “Oh, heh heh, about that … I saw feathers, glitter and Chicago and assumed “drag queen” when really it was an actual woman.” “How many men have died with those word on their lips.” “On the plus side, you didn’t miss it!”
12:24 a.m. July 20, 2004
“Y’all aren’t from around here, are ya.” - August 21, 2005 |
The Many And Scary Ways They Get Here Quote of the Day
"They have lots of disturbing cross sections of animal reproductive organs"
Worried by The fact that I just walked upstairs and saw one of my new housemates standing on her desk chair slowly revolving in circles for no apparent reason. Good Reads
Tomato Nation Fun
Television Without Pity Games
Copter Game Useful |
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