Welcome to Unpaid Spokeswomen, a column where we log what we’ve been into this week. Behind the wigs, makeup, costumes, and several layers of irony, we are two humans who genuinely enjoy doing things. Here is a weekly roundup of our unfiltered expert recommendations.
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Trixie:
Not Going Out
I love everyone, I love nightlife, I love gay shit, and I understand that we need to support these businesses. I’m an owner of a gay bar and a regular employee of gay bars. We need to continue to stimulate our local businesses and one nation, under God, amen etc.
But picture this: It’s a normal night. You’ve been invited to trivia. You’ve been invited to bingo. You’ve even been invited to an event to promote your own vodka. But instead of putting on some makeup and cologne and taking a $45 Uber, you arm the home security system and hunker down.
You just cooked tacos that you learned to make from the Internet. You are watching season three of The Real Housewives of Atlanta. (For context, Kim’s wig just got acceptable.) You are in a tracksuit having a lovely white wine spritzer. After dinner, you bake a tray of brownies and puff on marijuana on your patio. Then, you play your PlayStation for a few hours before slithering into bed by 10:30pm. You read about 12 pages of a book until you tell Alexa to turn on thunderstorm sounds. You sleep literally 10 hours and wake up feeling fabulous and thin.
All this and more can be yours for the low low price of not letting your love for alcohol and FOMO get the best of you. Put on your jammies and watch Reno 911 tonight.
Not Having Gonorrhea
I recently had the privilege of lying down with a married man. Not my OWN married man, because that would mean he was married to me and I’m not fucking insane. Let me clarify that if I was going to marry someone, I would marry my incredible boyfriend (and I probably will someday) but I believe that marriage is a death cult made to control women.
I do not wish to comment at this time about the openness of my relationship because I believe that labels and limitations are the killers of romance and sex. So before anybody breathlessly comments “bUt I tHoUgHt YoU hAd A bOyFrIeNd,” just respect that my relationship and the terms of it are something I am rather private about.
Anyway, cut to someone’s husband using my head hole like a pocket pussy. It was like he was trying to core an apple. I barely survived. But it was fine and consensual and afterward he revealed to me that he had children which was very shocking. I guess not that shocking, considering I had found out firsthand that he was capable of reproducing just 60 seconds before.
So then he texts me a few days later saying that he feels weird and he thinks he has gonorrhea. Great–just my luck. Some guys basically get banged like a snare drum in public on a daily basis and they never get an STI. In rap music they might say “catch a charge,” but I’m only worried about “catch a discharge.” So I spend several days in a slut spiral, annoyed that I’m gonna have to tell my partner that I’ve been struck down by some sort of promiscuous karma. Finally, I get a text a few days later saying that the test was negative and it was all in his mind.
Long story short, if your dad is going to have sex with me make sure he knows the signs and symptoms of an STI before he reports fake news to me from his Android phone.
Katya:
CIAO 2021
Last year the world was lucky to receive a precious new year gift when the Russian talk show program Vecherniy Urgant produced the most incredible retro-Italian New Year’s special. The show featured Russian artists performing Italian versions of their own hit songs, as well as fake commercials and lots and lots of bad wigs. Everything about it was pure magic, and so you can imagine my surprise when on New Year’s Day of this year, those crazy Russians were back at it with an even bigger, wilder Italian spectacle: CIAO 2021. The second installment is more extravagant, but it doesn’t quite have the charm of the first installment. It’s still a fun watch though, and I was absolutely delighted to hear the Italian stylings of La Soda, who didn’t participate last year. Two strange choices were the creepy cameo by Vladimir Putin at the end, and how Lolita does appear but she doesn’t do a number, which to me should land the whole production in jail. It’s still great fun though, and best of all it’s free to watch on YouTube. Oh and just like last year, my favorite of the enormously talented group is the beautiful and hilarious Allegra Michele (All Mikheeva) who steals every scene she’s in.
MEMENTO MORI
This spooky Hollywood goth gift shop is a great place to buy a souvenir for you or your significant dark-sided other. If you’ve got a few dollars burning a hole in your pocket, they’ve got tarot cards, jewelry, lovely sculpted replicas of conjoined infant skeletons, and much much more. I bought a giant taxidermy boar’s head a few months ago, and she’s a real stunner. Oink oink!
Katya always speaks straight into my goth girl heart.
ETA: Katya, estate sales are awesome places to pick up weird goth shit. Last year, I got a fully articulated bear skull at one. Half off!
I was just thinking about what I should do tonight and “putting on jammies and watching Reno 911” sounds like the move, so thanks for the unintentionally well timed suggestion!