On Moving, Gigging & Life With Mikey...

"If I can’t drink it or smoke it, I don’t want it," Mikey Pump

So Dolls, things are positively insane here. Not only are we in the process of buying a new house, but we’re also selling, "The Tube," and… as if that isn’t chaotic enough… shooting a Patsy Clinestein video! Oh, and we also have a gig coming up on Monday, June 25th at E-String in Henderson. I suspect that will be the last gig we play until we are moved into the new house… but you never know.

Regarding More Important Matters….

So here I was on Saturday night slumming at Jerry’s Nugget in North Las Vegas when my cell rings. It was probably about midnight. Since only three people have my cell number and one of them is with me and the other is in a different time zone, I know it is Mikey Pump calling.

"Do we have any sheets?," he barks into the phone… no hello, no how are you? Nothing!

"Why?," I ask… Hot date?, I think.

"One of the cats pissed my bed," he informs me, not happy at all.

I tell him we have sheets and where to find them.

"We have to do something about these fuckin’ cats!," he says and hangs up.

Then I started to think… he’d had a few rum and cokes when I’d left him on the couch at about 10pm. Maybe he was just blaming the cats. Maybe he fell asleep and pee’d the bed himself. I mean, cats don’t usually wet the bed. But lo and behold, sweethearts, it was the cats! When I got home several hours later, there was his pee-soaked pillow on the kitchen counter – as if he knew I would suspect him of this horrific display of incontinence and left the distinctly-scented evidence for me to see.

My point, precious ones, is that while Mikey might get inhalers stuck in his nose, he is most assuredly not a bed-wetter.

Stay Fabulous!

I've Lost 800 Pounds!

Daaaaaaarlings!

There’s something positively horrific about this! In the last decade I’ve lost 800 pounds – but it’s always the same 10 pounds! The reason I bring this up is because over the past two weeks I’ve lost those flippin’ 10 pounds again. I swear they’re like a rash – you finally get rid of them and they come back again. So I sit and ponder… is it really the exact same ten pounds? Or are they different pounds? I mean, like did I lose ten pounds off my arms six months ago and then gain them on my ass the following month?

Clearly I’ve never lost them, only temporarily misplaced them. Which brings me to that burning question – where do they go when I’ve misplaced them? Are they waiting in bay somewhere… say my nightstand… secretly plotting to jump back on me the moment I doze off? I’m really hung up on this!

The more I think about it, the more questions I have. Though I’ve absolutely no scientific background, it seems to me that food turns into fat. That would mean that my body fat is made up of an egg roll here, a donut there… I’m the proverbial charm bracelet of meals gone by. Oy Vey! When you look at me do I look like a buffet?

I’ve absolutely got to stop thinking about this!

Stay Fabulous!

Not Everything Belongs In Your Nose!

Daaaaarling Ones,

I positively must share this story with you! While things like this always happen to me, they never happen to Mikey Pump. Anyway, baby-dolls, Todd and I came strolling in at about 2am this morning to find Mikey had undergone a most horrifying experience while we were out.

Suffering from a sinus headache for the past several days, this afternoon Mikey purchased a Vicks Inhaler hoping it would bring him some relief – and it did – until the awful event. As it happened, while using the inhaler for the last (and most definitely final) time, the heavy plastic tube somehow became tangled in his nose ring. According to Mikey, he spent an hour and a half walking around the house with the inhaler dangling from his nostril until he finally managed to cut it out. Sadly, I missed it!

Alas, precious ones, if you wear a nose ring, be selective about what you insert into your nose!

Stay Fabulous!

Limp and Lifeless...

Daaaaaaarling Ones,

I so desperately wish I had something positively titillating to report, but the wicked truth is I’ve been going through a morbidly boring spell. I swear the basis of my dilemma rests in my shampoo. I mean, honestly, how can life be exciting when your hair is as limp and lifeless as a lousy lover? I keep switching brands, but to no avail. And even if I did find the perfect shampoo – a miracle in a bottle – I am sooooo not into entering my bathroom these days as it has been invaded by… kittens... two biting, snarling, scratching little kittens.

My dilemma began several days ago when Todd called to ask if I wouldn’t mind watching two kittens that some imbecile had trapped and then abandoned without food or water. He said it would only be for a couple hours. I told him to bring them home -- that it wouldn’t be a problem. But when he brought them home, there was most definitely a problem. The reason they were only going to be with me for a couple hours was because Animal Control was on its way. Now dear hearts, as much as I didn’t need another cat (let alone two), I most certainly was not going to detain them for their date with death. Oh no… not on my watch!

So now they are living in the hamper in my bathroom, waiting in bay for somebody to enter so they can execute their attack. Although they are only about 6 weeks old and incredibly adorable (twin males, white with blue eyes, orange ears and tails), they’re a little high strung. I have found, however, that if you approach them with food their demeanor greatly improves. So now, every time I have to go into the bathroom, I bring them a plate – so they’re becoming kind of chubby. Alas, unless I can find some loving soul willing to take two kittens (they are very dependent on each other), it looks like Proctor and Gamble are here to stay.

Now for those of you wondering why I’m keeping them in the bathroom (which is probably nobody), it’s because I already have cats – tons of cats – who positively hate the kittens. You see, dolls, my cats aren’t normal cats. They’re rescue cats, each with one peculiarity or another. Winky has one eye, Hop can only walk on three legs, Big Crab doesn’t play well with others, Chip suffers from social anxiety disorder, Peachy pulled out all her hair, Jonesy spends his days pondering what to kill next… and there are others.

So until Proctor and Gamble are big enough to defend themselves against the menagerie of misfits, they’ll rule my bathroom and I’ll have limp and lifeless hair!

Stay Fabulous!

Who'd A Thunk It, Daaaaaaaaaarlings!

Who’d a thunk it, daaaaaaaaarlings! Just today I received the following email from Michaelangelo… and to think I thought he was dead!

"i want you to divorce toddman, and run away with me to fabulous roma, italia.... i will buy the sistine chapel for you...... and and and and the leaning tower of ravioli,,,, we will travel to venice so you can see where i bertoline
michaelangelo orona was born.. and you will of course meet all of the family...
my uncle gilberto mussolini , his hot wife sophia lorenza de la bigchesta....
si, si , and all my other children from the 6 previous wifes that i have
had..but first we must murder your husband ...... we can put poison in the pizza ,,,,,, he likes pizza no.... yes i have a plan and two tickets to fabulous
roma..... come with me billy ,,,,,,,i will treat you like the princess that you
truley are.... and to further intice you , in roma, there is the largest kmart
in the entire world ,,,, it takes 4 weeks to see it all.....i will also buy you
rollerskates to make your shopping even more enjoyable..... i will have my bags packed tonite ,,,, after the show ...... buy the way i also love the art work at that gallery .... its so , so , revolutionary.... see you billy.... with 400
pounds of passion,signed michaelangelo ........... "

Remember, tonight at 3rd Street Revolution Art Gallery, 224 Imperial Ave., Las Vegas, NV – 7:30pm!

Until tonight, Stay Fabulous!

Waking Up Cranky...

Oh woe, dolls, but I’m positively cranky today. What with all the flippin’ no-shows at last night’s gig and the fact that Vons ran out of Tab (leaving me to drink that putrid Diet Coke), it’s a miracle I’m not scrounging around the bottom of my purse for a Valium. Yet all is not thaaaaaaaat horrible in Billyville. While it is true I woke up irritable, exhausted and frightened by my own reflection (I spaced removing my make-up before going to bed last night), I did receive a phone call that picked up my droopy spirits a bit.

Last week I met this awesome drummer named Geno at (now I know this is going to sound absolutely absurd) a Harley Davidson Convention in Kingman, AZ. Oh, now stop gasping in horror, dolls, and give me a chance to explain! You see, there is this band called Hack & The 57’s who had a gig there, but needed a fill in bass player for the day. Well, Mikey picked up the gig and since I had nothing fabulous to do, decided to keep him company on the two hour drive from Las Vegas. Anyway, Geno was also filling in for the band and between sets we talked about my show and how I desperately need a drummer and blah, blah, blah.

Alas today, in my weepy-oh-woe-is-me frenzy, I get an insane message on my answering machine about… viscous fishes.?!? Lo and behold, sweet-peas, it was Geno. He heard about last nights show from Hack (who was there, unlike some of you nasty little thangs who promised) and, to make a long story short, we’ll be getting together to see if I can’t free my career from this sequencer bondage that has been clearly plaguing us to death!

Meanwhile, we’re getting ready to do it all over again at 3rd Street Revolution Art Gallery on Friday night. Wonderful things should be happening next door at Snick’s Place since it’s the first night of Gay Pride and, for that matter, all through the Las Vegas Arts District that night since it’s also First Friday. Hope to see you all there!

Stay Fabulous!

If You Think His Writing Is Wild, Check Out His Art!

Precious Ones,

Of all the letters I received, I was most intrigued by that of Las Vegas artist Lee Orona, co-owner of 3rd Street Revolution Art Gallery (where we just happen to be performing on Friday, May 4th). And so I will share his literary stylings with you. Before I do, however, upon reading Lee’s email, my tall friend Kathy said, "If it’s possible to accurately sum up somebody’s personality in an email, this is it."

So here it is, dolls, words of wisdom from the spectacular Lee Orona:

"billy , billy, billy , billy , billy , billy,you are the shrimp in my cocktail, you are the jack in my cracker jack.your the stolen picasso,of course you can be a flat tire on interstate 80 too, but as mygreat uncle bernardo de la goatee orona said,, while eating pancakes one morning while vacationing in katmando with my auntie , actually my forth auntie an ex stripper by the the name of juanita jones montoya de la cruz.... who went by the name of betty hips nabronski. my uncle said ... you know ,,, you just got to use jet fuel sometime and run them beautiful motherfuckers over ..they will thank you in the morning for one hell of a good time.pass the pancakes....break a leg guys, unit 2"

After reading that, how can you possibly not check out 3rd Street Revolution Gallery?

First Friday at

3rd Street Revolution Art Gallery

224 Imperial Ave.

Las Vegas, NV

with

Billy Dare & The Pumps

Showtime 7:30pm

We will be doing our informal, anything-goes gallery show where we try out new material, play material that isn't included in the Fabulous Miss Billy Dare Show and more. It's always a fab time.

Of course, if you want all the costumes, give-aways and hoopla, don't forget we'll be at E-String Grill, 2031 W. Sunset, Henderson, NV on Monday, April 30th at 8pm.

Until then, Stay Fabulous!

All The Best People Are Coming...

Good Afternoon, Baby Dolls!

I will keep it short and sweet – a phrase, my darlings, we absolutely hope to never hear our lovers use!

Alas, start planning your outfits now, as our Swanky Society is destined to meet again for The Fabulous Miss Billy Dare Show on Monday, April 30th at the E-String Grill on 2031 W. Sunset in Henderson, NV at 8:15pm. We’ve got some naughty new songs and other events to tempt and titillate you.

Plus, as I write these very words, a new fabulously festive, basic black frock is being made for me. Of course since it’s not finished yet, I can’t promise how it will look on. I mean, oh-woe, but I could end up looking like a knish wrapped in tarpaper. However, you’ll never know unless you show… so see you there, and

Stay Fabulous!
Miss Billy

The Thrill Is Gone...

Daaaarlings, I am deathly bored! Since I don’t pay my bills until I get shut off notices, I spent my entire day running around the city writing checks like Imelda Marcos at a shoe sale. Honestly, I need a secretary… and a maid, and a stylist… it just never ends! In 48 hours I’ve gone from giddy and gay to bored and frazzled. Oh woe!

During my bill-paying travels (driving the shit-box band van) I decided the time has come to upgrade my vehicular image a bit. I tried to buy this snappy little vintage number – a BMW convertible – but the owner is not selling. So then I saw this wonderful vintage Mercedes 450 SL in a parking lot and was all agog. Sadly that wasn’t for sale either. The guy I was with said if I could find an old Ford nearby he could use the dipstick to steal the car for me. Naturally I refused the offer, but found myself questioning the company I keep. He also told me how to turn fruit cocktail snack cups into booze – a popular trick he learned in prison. Alas, I’ve got all this newfound knowledge, but still no car.

In other news, I fear I’m becoming a Cyclops. In a frenzied quest for a divine, youthful complexion, I think I used a little toooooo much product on my face over the weekend and now have a rash-like blemish mid-forehead. Maybe I should just cut some bumper-bangs and go around like it’s the 1960’s… or maybe I should just stop buying (and using) every beauty enhancement product on the market. I’m not getting any more beautiful and I’m starting to feel like a laboratory test rat.

Well, doll-babies, I have nothing of monumental proportions to report today… other than my butt… which was exposed to a group of Mexican school kids when my skirt blew up over my head in the Wal-Mart parking lot on Nellis this afternoon. Clearly they will be scarred for life!

And with that, remember…

Stay Fabulous!

Some Things Are Tooooo Fabulous!

Oh daaaarlings, it has been forever, hasn’t it? It seems ever since I bailed on that dinner show gig and went back to more familiar surroundings, my career and social life have been sparkling! Now if I can only get the diet part in control, my life will be positively marvelous.

We’ve been playing about town – two favorites are: Ezequiel Lee Orona and Juan Ybarra’s 3rd Street Revolution Art Gallery on the corner of 3rd and Imperial (we play there on the first Friday of every month) and the E-String Poker Bar & Grill in Henderson where we play about once a month for Comedy Night. We’ll be there again on Monday, April 30th, showtime 8pm. It’s a positively fun venue, sweet-peas, where you can eat, drink, smoke, gamble, hear live music, peruse the rock memorabilia collection and even buy a vintage guitar during store hours. Come down and catch the show!

Other than flitting about the desert to fabulous soirees and mini-socials here and there, I went out to E-String last night with Todd, Mikey & Kathy to check out a friend’s band, No Limit. I don’t know whose band it is, but I do know that the ever-adorable Bernie Hamburger plays guitar in it – and expertly to boot, dear-hearts. Since he actually builds the amazing guitars he plays, I can even forgive the fact that it was a cover band, which as you know, is an enormously humbling step for me! But all kidding aside, they were very good and worth catching.

Meanwhile, as the band played and the cocktails flowed, I put on my, "Campaign Face," as Lou calls it, and met a host of fabulous people – Megan, Robert, Jason, Jim, Chuck, Seth, Luke -- and a handful of other not-particularly-interesting folks whose names I can’t recall. I also had the opportunity to catch up with Bernie's wife, Diane, which is always a pleasure.

But Wait! This is so strange! As I write, the television is on in the background playing some old movie called, The Bad Seed. I just caught a bit of the dialog…, "I’ll miss your kisses, Daddy. You’re so big and strong." I think I said that to some guy at the club last night. I guess I shouldn’t have wandered off on my own and gotten that third C.C. & Soda! But then had I not, I probably wouldn't have been blind-sided by the full-tongue lip lock of a particularly influential man-about-town. For career advancement reasons, I cannot mention his name.

Anyway, I was dead on my feet this morning and clearly sure I would die. One glance in the mirror convinced me homicide would have been a mercy killing if carried out by an empathetic friend. Neverthelass, dolls, I fixed my face, got dressed and changed my shirt a couple times because I drooled toothpaste on my first one, then was off to a backyard BBQ at the home of Penny, Steve, Kathy & Patrick. It was quite a delightful event, though my wit and personality were both severely compromised as a result of the toooo fabulous night before.

Speaking of being compromised, clearly my ability to write is suffering the effects of too much fun as well, so I will end now.
As Always… Stay Fabulous!

I Might Be Crazy, But It's On My Own Terms...

OK, baby-dolls, I did it. I quit the dinner show gig. My decision was mulled in anguish and torment, but I had to come to terms with the fact that I’m not variety entertainment – never was, never have been.

When I first started at the club there was a little bit of underground, funky feel that made me think it might work out. The guy who ran it was nice and the people who worked there were cool. Okay, the turquoise chairs were a bit 1980’s Miami Vice, but it was kind of campy. That and the fact that Fremont Street is planning a retro/hip renovation were enough to give it a chance. Then things started to get over-the-top cheesy. The addition of neon and fake plants, were the least of the horrors! So, alas, precious ones, I found myself in a dreadfully uncomfortable situation. That’s when the words of a friend from Texas came in handy. "Dance with what brung ya," she said. What brought me were the underground, the original circuit, the gay circuit, and the art circuit. That’s where my heart is and probably always will be. So that’s where I’m going… and do we ever have a fabulous gig coming up!

This Friday night, February 2nd, we’re playing the grand opening of the Third Street Revolution Gallery in the Las Vegas Arts District. Not everything is cheesy in Las Vegas, y’know! The new gallery is owned by artist Ezekiel Lee Orona and is located on 3rd Street, right next to Snick’s Place a little neighborhood gay bar and Art Space, which I believe, is either another gallery or a studio. Either way, the area is sooooo suited for us – not to mention I’m positively giddy about Lee’s artistic endeavor. I’m sure many of you have already heard of him, but for those who haven’t, you’ve absolutely got to check out his work. Gifted in both painting and sculpture, his use of color and texture will blow you away! So if you’ve got Friday night free, come on down to Third Street Revolution Gallery, see some awesome art and catch a show. It opens at about 5pm and we’re going on between 7pm and 8pm. There’s no cover.

Although I’m not totally sure of the date, we’ll also be playing the E String Bar & Grill in Henderson in the very near future. They’re a live music venue for local and national talent. On Mondays they’re starting a comedy night, so that’s when we’ll be playing. I suspect that since our show is only 90 minutes, we’ll be sharing the bill with a stand-up comic – at least it’s not a magician, celebrity impersonator, cover act or the standard Las Vegas variety talent fare that makes my skin crawl!

So darling ones, things are very shiny and bright here in Billy-ville. I know some people might think I’m crazy to give up a steady dinner show gig on Fremont Street, but at least I’m crazy on my own terms!

Kisses for days!

More Bitching, Moaning & A Wardrobe Miracle

Good Morning Dolls!

I positively cannot believe my life is being dictated by, of all things, football, but alas this is the case. We've decided to stick around in Las Vegas a bit longer, but are changing our dates at the club to Sunday and Monday nights. We had the option of Tuesday nights as well, but since we never had a decent draw on a Tuesday, we decided to nix that idea. Anyway, the reason this all comes down to football is because of the Sunday night shows. This town is absolutely wild about football... and so is Mikey Pump! Since this weekend is the Championship games, we won't be starting until January 28th... then it will be EVERY Sunday and Monday night, except Sunday, February 4th, which is the Superbowl.

I suppose I should be used to the sports/entertainment concept by now. I once played a gig at a bar in Boston when the Red Sox were in the World Series. I don't remember who they were playing, but I clearly remember that night. We were playing to a bunch of backs. With their eyes glued to the TV screen, there was plenty of cheering... but not for us! I think the place could have burned to the ground and nobody would have noticed until the television combusted. So based on that, we will not be playing Superbowl Sunday!

I want to thank the person who left the anonymous comment to stick it out, as any encouragement at this point truly helps. I've launched my career over and over again on so many circuits. It seems you start out on a circuit, build your name and fame, get all the good gigs, etc., and then you realize you're at a dead end. That's when you have to make the choice as to whether you'll stay and play on that circuit forever, being a big fish in a little bowl, or moving up. Now I've loved every circuit I've played on -- especially the gay circuit -- so I never want to move up, but Todd isn't one to rest on his laurels, so up we go. Then we start all over again! So cupcakes, here I am in Las Vegas, doing it again. I guess the best way to describe the progression of my career is... Groundhog Day!

My, my, but I have been getting rather whiny with these blogs lately. Forgive me daaaaarlings... things truly aren't that bad. For example, the weather in Las Vegas has taken a bizarre turn -- it is 29 degrees this morning. Now I'm not saying I love to freeze, but the fact that I still fit into my coat from last year is certainly cause to rejoice. At first I was terrified to even try it on. I even toyed with the idea of taking to my bed until the deep freeze subsided. Then, in a moment of great strength, I grabbed it from its hanger in the back of my closet and put it on. Lo and behold, not only did it fit... I could button it! You can only imagine my relief.

So dolls, such is the story of my life. Have a wonderful weekend and, as always...

Stay Fabulous!

Happy New Year... I'm Losing My Mind!

Hey Doll-Babies!

It seems like absolute ages since I've written, but the truth is, I'm losing my mind. Las Vegas is swimming with variety talent and frankly, I'm choking on it! Celebrity impersonators of every stripe, tired cover acts, cheesy production shows are assaulting artistic integrity everywhere you turn. And since this is what defines the Las Vegas performer, what the hell am I doing here? We're the square pegs, honey-pies, in this round hole of unoriginality... and it's getting to me!

Tonight there was a couple from California at the show. After our second song, Diet Doctor, the woman called out, "You write your own songs, don't you?" When I told her we did, she said, "We really appreciate that!"

Angels, I positively wanted to jump off the stage, fall to my knees and kiss her feet! You have no idea how artistically stifled I feel playing in this town. I guess you could say Las Vegas venues are the MacDonald's of gigs. There are a few good, original clubs here, but mostly its tacky rooms featuring pretentious variety talent... now there's an oxymoron!

I like the club I work at, but it's really a culture shock for me. Where are the hot, hard-body bartenders with glowing Ultra-Brite smiles and charming personality? Why do all the men come in with women instead of other men? And if not the gay circuit, what about the original circuit in Boston where my career began? Where are the black walls, overflowing urinals and exposed wires? Where are all the other songwriters and original musicians? How the hell did I get so far away from home?

Oh sweet-ones, but is it not clear? I am definitely losing my mind in this facacta town.

As for our show, it's been a tough launch. Not only are we faced with promoting the show, but the club as well. It has no draw of its own, so each night is a gamble as to whether we'll get a decent sized house. We're thinking of switching to Sunday, Monday and Tuesday nights since a lot of venues are dark on those nights (thereby reducing the competition), or bailing all-together. I am torn between working to make it here in a town I don't really like, or heading back to where the water is warm -- 23 states east of the Mississippi. It's a tough call, but I plan on making a decision over the weekend.

So anyway, babies, I would love to know your opinion. Of course, prior to coming to Las Vegas, many of you already gave me your opinions -- too cheesy, keep away! But oh woe! I didn't listen. So where does a musical comedy cabaret show that came up from the original rock circuit to the gay circuit and finally to the Las Vegas variety circuit go next? If you have any ideas or just want to comfort me in my time of trauma and self-pity, send email to: thepumps@hotmail.com

Stay Fabulous, my little sweetheats!