fire and ass

Recently one of my friends asked me to help out her burlesque troupe, The Dames Aflame, with one of their shows at eyedrum last month. As Quencha, the fire breathers assistant, I paraded around in 7 inch stacks and a red pleather dress with a crinoline passing torches to the fire eater (because highly flammable layer of clothing and fire is always a GREAT idea) Amazingly enough, the performance went off without any major hitches or the building burning down, although my flame did go out a few times (oops) the show was a lot of fun except for the creepy guy who wanted to take my picture who looked like he had been locked in a dark room playing dungeons and dragons for one too many a fortnight.

The girls offered VIP tables for the uber savvy with the perk of free hooch. This set the evening into high gear as patrons fueled on grain alcohol and some pink watery substance got more and more raucous as the evening wore on. At one point the gay boys at one of the tables wouldn't stop screaming at the clown until one of them passed out slack jawed, drool slipping out of the side of his mouth.

Just when I thought the evening was over, a visibly drunken woman rushed over to me with her boyfriend in tow exclaiming, "oh my gosh you are so beautiful, my boyfriend thought you were a man, but i told him oh my god you're so stupid blah blah blah" the boyfriend, obviously embarrassed stammered that she was drunk and didn't know what she was talking about. At this point I ran into the back room, threw off my wig and edward munster boots and headed for my girlfriends who reinforced my sexiness by calling them stupid and drunk. Thank god for my girls!

One of my favorite writers, Hollis Gilespie wrote an entertaining review in the loaf in her column Moodswings

See pictures of The Dames Aflame in my photobog