It seems like only yesterday it was that brand new Millennium thing and I was running down The Strip in only my scants singing a salty song about a whore and a donkey. The less said about that palaver the better. Hard to believe it was ten whole years ago however. Time sure flies when you're fabulous. And old.

Last night the Mexican and I had a show at a little private soiree in downtown Las Vegas. There was some big TV event going down starring that dude Fergie and his Black Eyed Peas, so all these idiots had hogged all the parking in town. They sure are keen to see a tranny hosting huh? I like that about Vegas. Everyone fits in.

So anyway this meant we had to pay Leslie Van Snoot's bouncer "Bones" to pick us up with our stuff and drop us off at the venue. Bones always needs the cash, plus he gets to stay for the party and scope out some hotties. Admittedly, he needs a pretty game (i.e., hammered) hottie as Bones is about the size of a hippopotamus and only a quarter as sprightly so she'd have to be up for searching for his dink under all that blubber and preferably have jelly bones. Anyway look at me getting all sidetracked with that visual.

The venue was heaving. I never saw a place that size cram in so many people before but I guess Vegas is a town stuffed to the point of puking, with overstuffed tourists and lithe young nymphets all needing to party their collective ass off without their tops, therefore everywhere seemed to be jumping.

Our opening acts were a little on the side of "WTF?". First was a guy with a peg leg juggling kitchen knives (one wants to know how the fuck he lost that leg in the first place and should we be concerned?) and the second act was a pretty smokin' little midget girl named "Monica" who had an unfeasibly gigantic rack for such a tiny person. In fact, I can't vouch that she even had legs. It was almost impossible to drag your eyes away from it as it lead her around the stage like a parent leading a child. I think Monica's specialty was some sort of belly dancing but I can't be sure since I was mesmerized by those jiggling majoombas. You can't blame me. Ask anyone in that room last night what that little midget lady did and I guarantee they'd go "She was a midget? I really don't remember, all I remember is she looked like she was smuggling Telly Savalas and Yul Brynner in her bra."

By the time we hit the stage at 11:30pm, everyone, including Pedro and myself and our session drummer Barney Miller (that's his real name) were wasted to the extent that Pedro played the entire show in his Superman underpants and I was too wasted to care. People danced, people went crazy, people yelled out requests which we honored for the most part, apart from that one chick (who looked uncannily like Mandy Patinkin) that Barney kept calling "fella" and who kept screaming out for "Long Haired Lover From Liverpool".

What the hay, lady? "I don't do Jimmy Osmond, fool!" I yelled back, although remember I was wasted so I followed it with, "But if he was here wearing a dress and willing I'd consider it!"

At midnight we stopped briefly to refill our glasses and suck the faces off of some trashed ladies from Wisconsin then the party continued.

I'd tell you all more but I can't remember a goddamn thing after that. I just know that I woke up in my own bed this morning wearing nothing but my shiny stage shirt, one sock and a condom (empty I believe) so make of that what you will. No one was there apart from me.

My cat sure looked nervous though.

Anyway, here's wishing all you great shiny peeps a fantastic 2010 and come see me sometime, ok? Kisses.