Do you smell something?

Ladies and Gentlemen,

It is illegal to start a fire. Especially when you start one in the hopes of meeting a fireman. Oh! But those Fireman Calendars drive me wild! Just knowing those big burly men are out there, waiting to hose things down! Like this one in New Orleans!

A burly fireman. And his furry ass.

Click here for the whole calendar!

Well, after learning that fireman aren't "turned-on" by arsonists, even in imported plus-size lingerie, I decided to try a new approach.

Too subtle?

Doesn't work. Not yet. Maybe I should put my kitty out on a limb...

Don't worry about me,
VJ

Gone with the car...

Ladies and Gentlemen!

After a wonderful week of shows here in Atlanta at the 14th Street Playhouse, I decided to do some sightseeing today! Little did I know, I am staying right next door to the lady who wrote "Gone with the Wind." Margaret Mitchell is her name, and she lives on the corner of Peachtree and 10th Street.

My neighbor.

I decided to invite her to "Shut Up, Sweet Charlotte" since it is right around the corner and, like "Gone with the Wind" is also about a Southern mansion, but turns out she won't be seeing the show. Ever. She's like the wind. Gone.

Oh, I was so embarrassed, but I still managed to ask the lady who works there if she could put out some of my fliers. She obviously didn't want the competition... And her southern gentility virtually vanished when I asked her if Margaret Mitchell was related to Paul Mitchell.

Margaret and Paul Mitchell.

Is your hair "Gone with the Wind?" Not with Paul Mitchell's Hold Me Tight Hairspray! (I did used to work in advertising, you know...)

Turns out, Margaret Mitchell died in 1949 on the corner of Peachtree and 13th Street. She was hit by a car! She walked out into the street without looking. I walked over there, and now I know why!

Margaret Mitchell died here. I sphinx.

She was probably trying to figure out why there was a giant statue of King Tut on the corner. I was! And I was almost hit by a car, myself.

Seems odd that they have a King Tut Exhibit in an abandoned gas station in Atlanta. Memphis, maybe...

Ankh if you need a tomb-up!

Don't worry about me,
VJ

Record?

Ladies and Gentlemen!



Don't worry about me.
VJ

Dead Ringer!

Ladies and Gentlemen!




Well, after I ejected Mr. Ricky Graham from my dressing room, and Febreezed my wig, I was off to BLAKE'S, here in Atlanta, to promote the show. Then, of course I came back to my corporate apartment and ate everything in sight.

What did I eat, you ask, right before I posted this blog?

Which died first, the chicken or the peanut?

Yes, that's right, three, not one, THREE protein bars...WITH PEANUT BUTTER PASTE. Then, moments later, I tune into CNN and discover that nutrition bars are now being recalled. How does this happen? How does a peanut come down with salmonella? Did Mr. Peanut have unprotected relations with Chicken Little? Who's combining susceptible peanuts with dirty chickens?

Wait a minute! Kung Pao! That's how! Oh, those Chinese have done it again! Anti-freeze in toothpaste! Melanoma, or whatever, in babies' milk!

So, as you read this, Atlanta EMS personnel are probably lifting my lifeless salmonella-riddled body off of a soiled toilet and into a hearse...like Elvis. But with more rhinestones.

But even though I'm deceased, I bet I still won't get nominated for an Oscar for GIRLS WILL BE GIRLS.

Don't worry about me,
VJ

I'm sorry!

Ladies and Gentlemen!

I'm so busy! I'm sorry I'm late! But I am in Atlanta, and I just got internet tonight! Please forgive me. I'm gonna hurt myself if you don't.



Don't worry about me,
VJ

On the boards!

Ladies and Gentlemen!

I finished my standing room only show in San Fran Suzy, and I just arrived in Atlanta! And look!

Marquis de Me!

Can you believe it! Name above the title! Amazing! I think there are other people in the show. I think.

No, I'm kidding! A little. "Sharing" the stage with me are the wonderful talents of Ricky Graham, Mark Meehan, Brooks Braselman, Yvette Hargis, Michael Sullivan and Mark Cortale! And, of course, the show was written by Jeffery Roberson and Matthew Martin! And the guys from Reaction Productions, who are producing the show, are treating me like a queen!

This is going to be so fantastic! Tell yo' friends in Atlanta! Come see SHUT UP, SWEET CHARLOTTE! Call 404 733-5000!

Don't worry about me,
VJ

One more night only

Ladies and Gentlemen!






I took this picture today near Union Square.

Yes. That is a rat on a cat on a dog.
If they can live in harmony, why can't
the Israelis and Palestinians.

Don't worry about me,
VJ

Upgrade!

Ladies and Gentlemen!



This week I got moved into a deluxe suite! I did! And I didn't have to do anything to get it! Well, not that I remember, anyway. Look at the view from my bed!

Gorgeous! San Fran Suzy!

Taught a few classes today at The Cheese School. Other than that, my days have been free to enjoy the beautiful (i.e. freakishly warm and unsettling) weather!

I taught Cheese History 101, Curd Processing, and, of course,
The Effects of Rennet Enzymes on Hydrophilic Surfaces.

Don't worry about me,
VJ

Soft shoulder?

Ladies and Gentlemen!



Don't worry about me,
VJ

20 percent?

Ladies and Gentlemen,



Don't worry about me,
VJ

Attack dog

Ladies and Gentlemen!



Don't worry about me,
VJ

Rrazz-le Dazzle!

Ladies and Gentlemen!



Have you been watching LOGO for the other versions of the public service announcement I did? (See it in yesterday's blog!) Or on TV! LOGO! LOGO! LOGO!

Don't worry about me,
VJ

Til Tuesday

Ladies and Gentlemen!

You Guys! The PSA I did for LOGO is up! Share it with all of your "friends."

Gay music and video from NewNowNext.com

It does feel wonderful to support the drag community, even though I am a real woman, because I share in so many of their hardships. (I, too, have very hairy arms and a propensity to barter with taxi drivers.)

Anyway, I didn't write my blog yesterday because I was stuck on a tarmac in Dallas for 4 hours on my way to San Francisco, where I am "performing" at the Nikko Hotel's Rrazz Room! Then I had a layover because I missed my connecting flight! UGH! Poor Mrs. Danvers. Not only were we in coach, which makes her very testy, we were in a middle seat. No one was happy about my vocal warm-up either. And that includes Mrs. Danvers.

The Rrazz Room. Classy Venue. Classy Lady.

It was raining in New Orleans, so Mrs. Danvers wouldn't go to the bathroom that morning either. LaSwan (Lady Across the Street Without A Name) was so nice to take us to the airport at 6 AM. She said she wanted to be sure I got to the airport and on the plane! She's very sweet, even though she did ask me to pay for a full tank of gas and a carton of Virgina Slims Ultra Light Menthol Cigarettes.

Mrs. Danvers sleeps while being chauffeured to the airport.

When I was laying over in Dallas, I tried to make Mrs. Danvers pee in the handicap stall in the bathroom by putting a bunch of toilet seat sanitary covers on the floor, but she wasn't taking the hint, even after I squatted down and did it myself. Instead, she kept peering under the stalls at other people using the toilets. I don't know where she learned that. But I really don't understand where she learned to tap on their shoes with her paw. She's a regular Ann Miller. But she can turn to the left AND to the right.

But, off to "rehearsal." We open tomorrow! And I have a live band! The Memanators, featuring Tom Shaw on piano, and Roberta Damke on drums! I love a gal with a stick!

If you like it then you better put a "click" on it.

Don't worry about me,
VJ

Free refills

Ladies and Gentlemen!

I was driving around New Orleans yesterday thinking, "I wish someone fabulous could do my hair right now!" Luckily at that exact moment, I rear-ended Jossie! Fabulous! After we exchanged insurance information, I sat in her front seat and she did my hair! The tools of her trade were overflowing out of the backseat of her Pontiac Grand Am! It was like being in a high-end salon, but without all that frivolous comfort.

This was no accident.

Good thing I got the hair styling before Jossie realized I made my insurance card on my own computer. It's not my fault! I had to because I know the police haul you into jail if you don't have insurance, and I am not going back there. Not twice in one week, believe you me... Thank you, Jossie!

Then, I was off to the Walgreen's to pick up some prescriptions. I realized after I picked them up that they weren't for me. I was so ashamed! Obviously, at that fancy New Year's Eve party I went to in the warehouse district here in New Orleans, I must have gone into the host's bathroom and called in refills on all of his prescriptions, then inadvertently picked them up before realizing I didn't give my own name to the pharmacist! Oh, Lord. Now what do I do?

Anyhoo, I strolled down the toy aisle and became pretty upset with how violent some childrens' toys have become. Thank goodness I had a whole bottle of Judge Chaisson's generic Clonzepam to calm me down. (Does anyone know what Propecia does? I've been handling the tablets.)


Play this.

Don't worry about me,
VJ