Hey to all my lovely LGBTQers out there! Gossip Gay here with WeHo's newest not-so-celebrity gossip. Y'all have a good Pride? We surely did. Nothing says "We're proud!" like watching a float-load of gay-for-pay models gyrating to Lady Gaga while throwing sample packs of Tylenol PM at our drunk ass. Yes, Gossip Gay came, we binge drank and we passed out in the alley behind Trunks—and yet we still were not the most tragic boy-toy on the Boulevard. Here's to the latest and greatest in WeHo gossip.
To the circuit party boy who vomited on himself at gay Pride’s Wonderland while riding the Transformers: 3-D ride: You win our “Tragic Queer of the Year Thus Far” Award. It’s bad enough that we had to watch your perfectly defined pectorals get upchuck-covered in halfway-digested, bacon-wrapped hot dog slices; however, you flitting through the park and wailing, “I just threw up my party favors! Someone help me! Daddy needs his candy!” was pure patheticness.
No, Daddy doesn’t need his “candy.” Daddy needs a swift kick in the six-pack and a roll of Tums. You’re tragic! We hate you and your chiseled cheekbones!
Nothing says SoCal sexyback more than a C-list soap star. Yes, he may technically be a hetero breeder—but he's always complimenting our biceps in the gym locker room and constantly talking about that coffee we "totally need to get sometime." It may never lead to happily ever after, but it surely makes for a good spank bank fantasy. And honeys, after the dry spell of a sexual desert that Gossip Gay has been stumbling through this summer, this imagined mirage is a well-welcomed long time cumming—errrrr, coming.
But enough about our lonely lions and back to the story at hairy-palmed hand! Last weekend, said C-Lister invited yours truly to attend a "private, late-night screening" of his "latest project," and needless to say our interest was peaked (both literally and figuratively).
The details given to us by way of his beautifully pursed lips vaguely went something like this: "Meeting at a friend's house ... a little bit of a drive ... outdoor theatre ... wine ... a lot of industry people ... I'm a little nervous because I'm practically naked in half of it." Sold! Gossip Gay is there with bells on!
Flash forward 36 hours to Saturday night; we are erect with excitement as we sashay into our Yaris, GPS the address of the aforementioned shirtless screening and begin our drive. However, it isn't long before we learn a lesson that's been a long time cumming—errrr, coming. When a beautiful boy speaks, try listening to the words coming out of his mouth instead of salivating over his DSL.
Because the reality of the situation went very accurately like this: At 10:22 p.m. last Saturday night, Gossip Gay found himself sitting underneath a carport in a trailer park in Sun Valley, Calif.—watching a C-list soap star's 47-minute modeling/acting/directing reel as projected onto the aluminum siding of an unkempt doublewide. No wine was had because, we were sadly informed, that Mr. Soap Star's skinny-ass devil bitch of a drag queen look-a-like girlfriend just went into rehab. (Quitter!) And apparently "a lot of industry people" means two former production assistants from TV Guide Network and a freelance contributor to Cat Fancy magazine. (If you think we are joking about any of this, you are pathetically, sadly and depressingly mistaken.)
Now, Mr. C-List's reel wasn't totally tragic. There was a killer shirtless commercial for some sort of body cologne spray that never made it to market, as well as a slew of gay-for-pay student films that kept him well-baby oiled. But on the homo-whole, we give this evening a big ol' un-fabulous two thumbs down. If we wanted to watch an untalented male model/actor/direct poorly play gay, we'd go chat it up with an Abbey bartender over overpriced mojitos. At least then we can guzzle our Smirnoff in peace and not have to worry about any skinny-ass devil bitch of a drag queen look-a-like girlfriends 12-stepping all over our face.
Dear beautiful blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy who sits at Starbucks and cruises EntertainmentCareers.net all day for a “well-paying industry job that respects your needs to go on auditions a few times a week”:
I implore you. Please stop talking about your pregnant girlfriend. It’s not that we’re heterophobic or anything. We know plenty of straight people. A few even work for us. You’re a cute and simple people who deserve our respect—perhaps, even one day, fabulous equality.
But seriously, keep your “lifestyle” where it belongs—out of the gay Starbucks and in the bedroom. It’s impossible for us to undress you with our queer eyes when you’re blatantly parading around your heterosexuality.
And again—we’d like to make clear—it’s not you and your adorable little bubble butt that we hate; it’s just the heterosexual behavior in which you deviantly choose to engage.
How do you measure your life? In 525,000-some-hundred-whatever minutes? (A joke for y’all Rent-heads out there!) Well, Gossip Gay measures his life in Facebook friends—and our life is bitching! You see, yours truly has 4,816 friends—and fans are still begging to get on our velvet-roped ‘like’ list daily.
So, we found our fabulous self horrified last week when we awoke to a deleted page. You see, some pathetic weasel of a dumbass evil devil hooker stole our account and tagged nearly all of our 14-to-18-year-old contacts in lesbian porn. Needless to say, the account was locked and quickly deactivated.
Per Facebook’s records, said hacker was an “Alison Weikes” at firstname.lastname@example.org. We were told to “do what we will” with this information. So, plainly put:
P.S. Thank you, Joey at Facebook, for spending nearly half of last Friday getting our account, as well as each and every one of our 4,816 friends, back online. You brought Gossip Gay back to life! And for that, you truly deserve a round of applause. Or a cyber handjob. Take your pick.