Marke B.

Feast: 6 noodle-icious dishes

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I’m a guy who knows a little something about noodles. How could I not, living in San Francisco? From the steamy rice-stick pho of the Tenderloin to the hand-pulled ramen of Japantown (RIP, Mr. Noodle), the Outer Richmond’s squiggly fried delights, and the sauce-smothered delicacies of North Beach, the city’s awash in traditional noodley goodness. As winter’s rain approaches, folks like me start scouring the town for fortifying — and unexpected — pasta gems. We’re Marco Polos on a mouthwatering mission, searching high and low for pressed dough.

HOÀNH THÁNH MÌ HÀI KÝ


A robust bowl of Vietnamese yum, served at the unassuming Hai Ky Mi Gia in the Tenderloin, this dish ($6.45) is basically an Asian mulligatawny, containing shredded chicken and pork, fish balls, delectable wontons, and strips of Spamlike pressed meat served over a bed of thick or thin egg noodles and doused with one of the most delicious chicken-based broths I’ve ever had the pleasure of slurping down. (Yes, I tipped the bowl.) Also available in an equally slurpable vit tìm version ($6.95), with a whole braised duck leg tossed into the bowl. Difficult to navigate with chopsticks but, I’m proud to tell you, entirely possible.

707 Ellis, SF. (415) 771-2577

MADILLI AL PESTO


Mi dio, mi dio! Served at brand spanking new Italian stunner Farina Focaccia and Cuccina Italiano in the Mission, this is handkerchief pasta smothered in pesto ($15). What is handkerchief pasta? It’s basically one giant noodle — uncut, unedited, and layered gently on the plate. But to pasta lovers like me, it’s a dream pillow. The light, garlicky pesto laces each tender bite with a kick of heavenly spice. When it’s accompanied by Farina’s justly famous cappon magro vecchia Genova ($15) — chilled salad with halibut, lobster, mussels, shrimp, cauliflower, carrot, green bean, potato, beet, and boiled eggs — you’ll float off contentedly into the night.

3560 18th St., SF. (415) 565-0360

SEAFOOD GAN ZAZANG


This one’s only for the truly hardy among us, but incredibly rewarding. Order this at Zazang Korean Noodle in the Western Addition and you’ll be served a bowl of curly yellow flour-based noodles, a side dish of pickled vegetables, raw onions, and gooey duck sauce, and another bowl — the main event — of black bean pasta sauce so dark it almost swallows the high-beam fluorescent light buzzing about the place. The sauce contains calamari, mussels, shrimp, and chunks of fish — and once the squid ink settles in with the black beans, the sauce evokes the flavor and texture of dark chocolate fudge. Mix it with the noodles, swallow a few mouthfuls, and you may never want to leave. Also of interest is the goo choo jap chae ($12.95) — clear yam noodles, stir-fried with bell pepper, onion, and juicy beef. Fair warning: each order is enough to stuff four.

2340 Geary, SF. (415) 447-0655, www.zazangworld.com

GEBRATENE REHMEDAILLIONS IN ROTWEIN-PFLAUMENSOSSE MIT ROTKOHL UND SPÄTZLE


Purists will object, protesting that spaetzle reside more in the dumpling wing of the house of pasta, but, hey, I’m a rebel, and in German cuisine these doughy tidbits, or "little sparrows," serve much the same function as noodles. This dish ($18.50), from Suppenküche in Hayes Valley, is a heaping plateful of hearty venison medallions in a thick red wine and plum sauce, accompanied by a pile of savory red cabbage salad and a big scoop of buttery Knöpfle, or button spaetzle. After washing it all down with a giant glass of Köstritzer beer, you may feel yourself sinking through one of Suppenküche’s table-benches into pure Teutonic bliss. Arrive early, though — ever since the new Hayes Green opened nearby, this restaurant has been packed to the Germanic gills.

525 Laguna, SF. (415) 252-9289, www.suppenkuche.com

WHOLE ROAST CRAB WITH GARLIC NOODLES


Get that bib on — PPQ Dungeness Island in the Outer Richmond is about to soak you in garlic butter like you’ve never been soaked before. First of all, hurray for Dungeness crab season (already reaching full Alaskan swing and about to hit our fair shores in November.) Second, a fond how-do-you-do to PPQ’s prix fixe whole crab menu ($50 for two). Mouthwatering Imperial rolls and piquant shredded cabbage with chicken launch your 90-minute culinary journey, and fried bananas with ice cream bring you back around, but in the middle — oh, the middle: a steaming, full-size, whole roast crab drenched in thick butter sauce and spattered with chunks of garlic, served with a generous bowlful of PPQ’s renowned sticky garlic noodles, perfect for dipping into the creamy pool beneath the crab’s soon-to-be demolished shell.

2332 Clement, SF. (415) 386-8266, www.ppqdungeness.com

TAGLIOLINI "PEPATI"


Hand-crafted thin, flat egg noodles in a blissful roasted tomato sauce with smoked bacon, thickly sliced jalapeños, butter, arugula, garlic, and peccorino and asana cheeses, topped with grated parmesan. Wow. This kicky, diet-busting wonder ($12), created at Aperto in Portrero Hill, rivals any similar North Beach concoction — even those available at one of my favorite restaurants of all time, L’Osteria del Forno. If you’re lucky enough to order this for lunch on a day when Aperto is serving its fabulous carrot-fennel soup, you may want to cancel your afternoon appointments, order a couple of glasses of sangiovese, and savor every mouthful. That’s what I did.

1434 18th St., SF. (415) 252-1625, www.apertosf.com

Feast: 4 guides to hot wines

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Good lord, the grape. Living in a world-class wine region (or rather, living so close to several) literally drenches one in delightful tannins and myriad notes of blackberry, chocolate, tobacco, apple, and plum. But while we’ve definitely forgone our youthful tastes for brown-bagged Mad Dog breakfasts in favor of a late-night glass or two of Lavis Langrein at Bar Bambino (www.barbambino.com) or a dinnertime flight of fantastically obscure German whites at Cav (www.cavwinebar.com), we admit that when it comes to which fashionable corks to pop for fall, we haven’t quite graduated from “oh, whatever” to outright oenophiles. Sure, we dip into the media stream enough to know what’s hip in the bars and clubs these days (rose and sparkling wines are so over; Lambrusco is on its way back), but honestly, if you asked us the difference between syrah and shiraz, we’d probably answer, “Doesn’t one of them have a yellow kangaroo on the label?” So we took it upon our taste buds to go straight to the source, and ask a few of our latest favorite wine bars and stores for the juice on what’s big. Chin-chin!

 

QUE SYRAH

This funky little wine bar in West Portal specializes only in delightful small production wines, but proprietor Stephanie McCardell tells us that in the overall big picture her clientele’s tastes are trending toward syrahs, white Rhônes, Roussanes, and viogniers. (White Rhônes and viogniers are especially attractive to those among us suffering from Chardonnay fatigue.) A current hot seller right now is the Vin Nostro Syrah, grown in Red Hills, Lake County, which McCardell describes as smoky, with dark fruit notes and that slight bacon aspect inherent to most syrahs. Que Syrah also carries wines from all over the world and is currently featuring two from Croatia — Bibich Reserva, a Dalmatian red with a subtle fruit and red pepper quality, whose main grape is a relative of Zinfandel, and a Croatian Malvasia, a dry, crisp white with peachy and other stone fruit characteristics.

230 W. Portal, SF. (415) 731-7000, www.quesyrahsf.com

 

OTTIMISTA ENOTECA

Ottimista Enoteca is a gorgeous Italian wine bar and restaurant in the Marina with an outdoor patio to die for and a menu to match. (Hello, fontina-stuffed risotto balls. Hello, nutmeg-sugared ricotta doughnuts.) Ottimista’s Melissa Gisler tells us that requests from her clientele for Sicilian wines have been off the charts lately, and a recent rise in import volume has allowed Ottimista to offer a much wider breadth of options from the region. (Two hot Sicilian labels: Nero d’Avola and Cantine Berbera.) Due to the volcanic nature of Sicily’s soil, these wines tend to have a tang of acid and notes of minerality, but also come bearing a powerful fruity flavor, with a very clean quality. The trend toward Sicilians has been noticeable, Gisler says, because Ottimista usually focuses on Northern Italian wines — like those produced in the Piedmont region, or from areas near the Austrian and Slovenian border — where the days are hot and the nights are cold.

1838 Union, SF. (415) 674-8400, www.ottimistaenoteca.com

 

BIONDIVINO

Carrie Smith of Biondivino, a sleek Russian Hill wine boutique that offers a mind boggling array of labels (yet provides enough comforting atmosphere and information to guide you through it all), has also noticed an upswing of interest in wines from Sicily, especially those from Etna. But another “strange surge” of interest, she says, is in the return to classics from the Tuscany and Umbria regions. A big winner among Biondivino winetasters this year has been the intensely fruity and now near impossible-to-find Valdicava Brunelo di Montalcino (brunello is closely related to sangiovese, another hot grape this year). Smith’s favorite white at the moment is Piedmontese Timorasso — lush and rich, creamy without being oaky or buttery, with a golden acidity. “It’s a good brain slap that makes you think, and want some more,” she says. Her favorite red is Vigneti Massa, from a Croatian varietal. With the power of a brunelo and the structure and elegance of a borello, she says, this wine is dark and rich, with nice-ending tannins.

1450 Green, SF. (415) 673-2320, www.biondivino.com

 

SWIRL ON CASTRO

“Tiny production California wines as well as pinot noirs and Argentine Malbecs are going to be all the rage this fall,” according to Jerry Cooper, one of the owners of this spiffy wine shop. According to him, the tiny productions most in demand are coming from Santa Barbara and Mendocino Counties. Increasingly popular are organic and biodynamic wines, whose producers employ a holistic, “metaphysics meets Farmer’s Almanac” approach to growing and harvesting. The reason for this popularity? “The qualities of these wines are of an artisan nature, with more flavor. They taste more of the regions they hail from.” Cooper also notes that while Bordeauxs have waned in popularity, Burgundies have maintained their place on the trend roster, especially in anticipation of the arrival of the 2005 vintage. Also hot: South African wines from the Cape. But mostly he sees wine becoming a more localized affair, including the way in which it’s encountered and purchased. “The wine bar has become the new neighborhood institution,” he says.

572 Castro, SF. (415) 864-2262, www.swirloncastro.com

Peaches Christ explodes

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“At first I was really uncomfortable that I was having a retrospective at the de Young,” Peaches Christ — filmmaker, actress, scene goddess, and queen of SF midnight movies — confided to me recently over free spring rolls and not-free wine spritzers at the Mix in the Castro. “I mean, does that mean I’ve gone legit? Should I die now? But then I heard that the de Young’s board got their panties in a twist when they heard the show was all about me, so I felt much better.”

She’s a hellion!

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Flawless Korean skin

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From the spam folder of the Senior Culture Editor:

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Hello Marke! I am Dr. Ramapati Singhania! I went live with my web business just last month.

Cheers, darling, congrats.

Imagine a complexion so gorgeous that men and women were stopped in their tracks! Wouldn’t that be great?

Even if I live on microwaved Orville Redenbacher popcorn from the AMCO station down the street? <Cough>.

Or picture yourself confident and dazzlingly sexy even in a pair of jeans. How would it change your life to feel beautiful everyday?

It would save me a lot of time posting for man-dates on Craigslist. I could totally upgrade from “Casual Encounters” to “Men Seeking Men”!

For centuries the glowing complexion and flawless texture of the Korean woman’s skin have symbolized the ultimate in beauty and sensuality. Would you like to unravel the mystery of their beautiful skin?

Wasn’t that, like, the plot of Silence of the Lambs?

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Here’s the mystery: Well to put it simply the secret to the flawless Korean skin lies in their cosmetic formulations. Traditional Korean compositions that have been used for centuries. Visit my site and I will give you this $800 value for free!

And here I thought the secret to flawless Korean skin was rampant stereotyping. How naive! Thanks Dr. Singhania. Got anything in Vietnamese? I’m a little low ….

PS. I can’t believe I’m blogging about spam. Bring back the heady days of Larry Craig! Oh wait, they may be back ….

Summer of Love: the pix

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Sunday was a great day for lighting up and reminiscin’ — and grooving with tens of thousands of other tuned in, turned on, and dropped out minds at the Summer of Love 40th Anniversary gathering at Golden Gate Park. Guardian writer/photographer Justin Juul was on the scene — here’s a few choice pics of the rockin’ celebration. Check out more of Justin’s Summer of Love pix here. (And look for his review of the event in tomorrow’s issue of the Guardian!)

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Good morning, Gaia!

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Ah, the Magic Bus

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Lunch with Wavy Gravy

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An orgy of love

Bananas + melons = love

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Why? Why? For those of us coming back slowly into consciousness after the big weekend, here’s a little WTF crazy-catchy tune from Sweden’s hottest latest “dance music” import (and, one hopes, most savvy performance artist), Gunther — “Tutti Frutti Summer Love.” I apologize beforehand for this, but it may be just the slap in the face you need to wake you up. At least in a “Is this a joke?!?” way.

Gunther will be in SF at Sound Factory on Saturday, Sept. 22 — I just scored an interview with him, which will come out in the next Super Ego. What the heck should I ask him? And why are the Scandinavians fierce ruling right now (hello, Junior Senior)? Questions.

Water-closeted: the Q in Craig

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It’s been a huge week for the gay (and, as someone hopelessly embedded in the daily news cycle, I’m queerly grateful) — Larry Craig’s water-closeted restroom fumble, gay marriage in Iowa, briefly ….

Let’s round it off on a pre-Labor Day musical high note, shall we? Ladies, gentlemen, and other — a delightful mashup of Larry Craig’s putative televised denials and Avenue Q’s poignant gut-buster (addressed to a closeted Republican Craig doppelganger puppet — prophesy!) “If You Were Gay.”

Take it away, fellas …..

Good morning, gay Iowa!

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Io-wha??? In a turn of events strange enough to cause me to spit out my chocolate croissant in disbelief this morning, same-sex marriage is now legal in Iowa.

I shit you not.

Well, actually, it turns out that it was officially legal for only two hours — from 9am-11am. A judge in Polk County struck down Iowa’s 1998 Defense of Marriage Act — otherwise known as “Io-we hate gays” — this morning, saying it violated the constitutional rights of due process and equal protection of six gay couples involved in the case, but then put the ruling on hold two hours later.

Still, a few couples got their legal license applications in on time and tied the knot. And it’s awfully hard to undo such things legally once they’re accomplished in such a way. (Our Winter of Love couples’ weddings were more easily declared invalid because they hadn’t participated in a legal case beforehand).

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Gayer than we thought

“This is it. We’re married. I love you,” said Sean Fritz to Tim McQuillan, according to the AP, after they got hitched — one of the lucky couple to have applied in time (and skillfully worked their way around the typical three-day waiting period.)

Who knows what’s gonna happen — but I can’t stop singing “Iowa Stubborn” from Corn State-based musical The Music Man in my head: “You really ought to give Iowa a try…..”

Exclusive! Gonzo burner speaks?

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Someone claiming to be the man who burnt The Man, Gonzo-enthusiast Paul Addis (“currently chilling out in Fernley NV”) has posted a juicy, lengthy comment to our blog in which he presents his side of the “you could have killed people!” case.

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Talkin’?

We hope it’s him — because this one’s a doozy of a justification (and at this point into my three-martini lunch it makes a teeny bit of sense. One more round!)

The poster identifies himself as “the ‘alleged’ arsonist/douchebag/attention whore himself.” Well, OK then!

We’re working on getting some verification. Meanwhile — there are reports that there’s been an apparent suicide on the playa. Is this really Burning Man’s Altamont?

Freakend Alert! Wild bears, trannies ….

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This weekend’s clubs and parties: It’s a classic case of B&T this Labor Day weekend. Not B&T as in bridge and tunnel — although the fact that the BART’s open 24 hours while the Bay Bridge gets some fixin’ promises to flood the city with thankfully non-drunk driving revellers. (I myself plan to take advantage of this BART generosity by exploring some East Bay haunts I haven’t been able to visit in a while, like the White Horse Inn, the Ruby Room, and the Bench & Bar … look out Oaktown!)

Nope, it’s B&T as in bears and trannies, and a fab club called Trans Am (and more!). This week’s Super Ego column gave the lowdown on some of the events going on this week and next, here’s some more. Just for us.

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Look out!

Summer of Love not cancelled!

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We just received an e-mail from the organizers of the Summer of Love 40th Anniversary event happening this Sunday at Speedway Meadows in Golden Gate Park. According to them, some nasty rumors have been circulating via Internetz and radio that this historic event has been cancelled. NOT TRUE!

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Tune in, turn on, drop by

We contacted the organizers, and they assure us that everything is hunky-dory, that the rumors appear to be propagated by unsavory sources (“a disturbed person or one of Nixon’s retired dirty tricksters,” they say), and that the event — which is expected to be attended by thousands eager to commemorate the incredible peace-wishing happening of 40 years ago — will go off just a cosmically as expected, with a stellar line-up including the likes of Canned Heat, Wavy Gravy, Riders of the Purple Sage, Michael McClure, and various former Doors. (A complete lineup of performers and activities can be found here.) See you there!

Resources

Summer of Love 40th Anniversary Web site

Info on the Summer of Love 40th Anniversary

Our 40th Anniversary Summer of Love reunion photo and “Where are they now?” (from Best of the Bay 2007)

Some key Summer of Love players still active in the community (from Best of the Bay 2007)

Summer of Love-related history from the Bruce Blog

The great Human Be-In Caper

Divatrocious

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› superego@sfbg.com

SUPER EGO OK, I figure I’ve got fewer than five readers this week because of, oh yeah, fucking Burning Man, so let’s drop all the usual hyperintellectual lip gloss and get intimate. It’s just you and me and the scent of a Mariah Carey M eau de parfum sample strip from a ripped-off copy of Glamour in the air between us. First, this just in: there’s actually a Cuban drag queen in Miami named Fidela Castrato. Topical! Second, screw the burners — for a couple of glorious weeks, the Bay is ours. Let’s get go-go-toasted. Let’s get ho-ho-noxious. Let’s get divatrocious. Below are some delish party picks for the fortnight ahead to keep us busy while others pluck playa dust from their sun-baked cracks. Take back the night! And check out the Noise Blog at www.sfbg.com, where I’ll be posting more Labor Day weekend and beyond kookiness. Just for us.

DMX KREW AT EGGS


Years ago I got my first glimmer of the juggernaut that the whole blank-parody white-kid electro-hop scene would become when I scored a CD from the Guardian‘s Johnny Ray Huston sometime in the late ’90s, put out by an awesome kid named Ed DMX, who vocoder-rapped over analog beats about rainbows and Adidases and probably unicorns — but who the hell knows, I just needed the CD cover to cut up … er, my nails. Anyway, it was awesome, and DMX is still alive! He’ll be stepping lively with his Krew at one of the most raucous parties in sodomyville, Eggs, with PJ Pooterhoots and Safety Scissors.

Thu/30 10 p.m.–2 a.m., $8

Mighty

119 Utah, SF

(415) 762-0151

www.might119.com

www.eggseggs.com

AMANDA LEPORE AT THE CRIB


The world’s most phenomenal piece of transgendered flesh-sculpture talks! Will we ever understand? Do we want to? The legendary inflatable club goddess is interviewed onstage by inflatable Asian tranny whore Monistat, at the hippest nightspot for underage East Bay queer kids of color into Bryan Adams techno remixes and Rihanna mash-ups (and who can cough up $15). Fearfully intriguing.

Thu/30, 9:30 p.m.–2 a.m., $15

715 Harrison, SF

18 and older

www.thecribsf.com

www.amandaleporeonline.com

JEFRODESIAC’S FOURTH ANNUAL FUCK YOU BURNING MAN


It’s on. DJs Jefrodesiac (Frisco Disco, Blow Up) and Funk (Dancemania) hit the decks with some fine, fine chaos, and Hot Tub, that crazy, bubbly girl electro-rappin’ trio from Oakland, perform live at this must-do event for non-naked-yoga-for-Gaia people.

Sun/2, 9 p.m.–2 a.m.

Free with RSVP at going.com/djfunk

Rickshaw Stop

155 Fell, SF

(415) 861-2011

www.rickshawstop.com

MOTOR CITY MADNESS


What?! A Detroit-themed night at a queer club? Hells yeah. DJ Chicken hatches his latest feather-brained scheme at Truck, playing every genre of music that launched from tha D, which is, like, everything. (Hey, I’m from there — work it out.) Motown, techno, Iggy, Eminem, White Stripes, MC5 … need I go on? Also featuring — and if you’re not a Michigander, you won’t get it — Faygo cocktails! What, no Vernors? Chicken also tells me that Truck’s kitchen may also include a chili dog minus the dog (Coney Special), a burger smothered in ketchup (Murder Burger), or an onion ring on a hamburger bun (Spare Tire). Rawk.

Sept. 5, 9 p.m.–2 a.m., free

1900 Folsom, SF

(415) 252-0306

www.trucksf.com

LUCKY PIERRE HAIR PARTY


Gays in frilly panties! Strip poker! Mayhem! DJ Mickey Moniker from Vancouver (Uncanny, Pumpjack) joins DJ Donimo and DJ6 for a night of electro madness at Lucky Pierre — the steamy monthly at the Stud for three-way lovers and their lovers’ lovers. Plus, this month’s theme is "hair" (as in fluff it up, show it out, shave it off — not the musical, I dearly hope), so grab your giant novelty comb and hop to. Coco Canal hosts, Artemis Chase deals, and the toilets overflow. With love!

Sept. 7, 10 p.m.–3 a.m., $7

399 Ninth St., SF

(415) 252-STUD

myspace.com/clubluckypierre

Class of 2007: Carletta Sue Kay

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CLUBS Future Farmers of America, Baby-Mama Drama Club, Toilet Scouts

QUOTE "Obviously, I’m trying to escape myself."

"It’s so fucking weird," says Randy Walker, a.k.a. Carletta Sue Kay, singer and songwriter for his eponymous chamber rock quartet. "I’m a total fagatron, but I write sad, heartfelt love songs addressed to imaginary women. Then I throw on a big ugly dress and a bad wig and sing them on stage to an audience of mostly gay men. I guess that makes it queer."

Probably. Either that or Psycho. Walker’s made a career of inhabiting various musical personae ever since he scored a Screen Actors Guild card for a production of Peter Pan when he was 10. After moving to San Francisco 12 years ago, he made a splash in queer indie-rock circles as Emile, the oft-bruised lead shouter of thrash-dance foursome Mon Cousin Belge. The sound of MCB edged outright metal terror with a glimmer of glam, splashing enough contempo-emo sincerity onto the band’s hilariously over-the-top antics to light a fire in many a queer boy’s heart. (Now recording a CSK album, Walker promises that MCB, which disbanded in May, will return later this year in a sleeker version.)

"I love Emile," Walker says. "I’ve been being Emile for years, but I’m constantly writing songs — I’m sitting on about 300 — and most of them are just waiting for me to find the right personality inside me to perform them." Thus, in the way of Sybil, Carletta Sue Kay was birthed, to give voice to Walker’s more lilting, Emmylou Harris–meets–Magnetic Fields tunes. Backed by Metal Bob on guitar and Danyol and Mark Mekaru on piano, cello, rhythm guitar, and accordion, Carletta croons her way through an lovely echo chamber of gender-benders, including "Joy Division," about a girl who loses her boyfriend to the titular band. "Carletta Sue Kay was named after my actual cousin, who’s serving time in Iowa for trying to blow up her boyfriend’s house. She was charged with possession of terrorist materials," Walker explains. "Isn’t that fabulously trashy?" (Marke B.)

www.myspace.com/carlettasuekay

Michelle Tea hits Sewdown

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By Michelle Tea

Last Saturday night I went to Sewdown, a fashion party that billed itself as an alternative to San Francisco’s fashion week.

Yes, San Francisco has a fashion week, and it’s OK that you didn’t know that.

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Sewdown took place at the Temple Nightclub, a place that does indeed look like a temple, for a religious sect worshipful of art galleries: the place is all white with high-ceilings and cold columns on the inside. The perfect place for a fashion show!

Me and my partner in finery, writer/filmmaker Tara Jepsen, grabbed some Cokes (no Diet Cokes? at a fashion show?) and started posing. Tara had raided the closet of an employee of Danielle Steel who gets to go on shopping jaunts to Paris, and as a result was wearing a Behnaz Sarafpour dress of silkscreened black lace and a mesh heart that framed her cleavage in a sweetly pornographic style. She also scored a knit Dolce & Gabbana purse, which we entertained ourselves with by speculating on its original price. Tara confirmed that yes undeed it does make you feel like a better person to wear amazingly fancy clothes, and I believe her because I felt like a better person just standing next to her. But this is not about me and Tara, this is about Sewdown.

Jiminy! Another gay Republican

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(UPDATE 5:30PM: A concerned reader just informed us that you can see Craig’s creepy mug shot, along with a photo of the pretty yummy decoy cop here. No fair if the cops are that cute!)

Except that I’m completely against them, I have nothing against gay Republicans: we’re all driven by the engines of hypocrisy in one form or other – and accepting yourself is a lifelong journey, incredibly difficult for some. We are everywhere, darnit. (For a great history of closeted Republicans, click here.) So I didn’t jump to posting about the Larry Craig scandal until I got a few facts, er, straight – like his heinous record of voting against equal rights (looks like, for once, Perez freaking Hilton did his homework, and there’s a solid little encapsulation here. You can look up Larry Craig’s individual Senate votes here.) Plus, I was awfully busy celebrating Alberto Gonzales’s resignation. Not even this could take that away from me.

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“Wide stance.”

I also wanted to read the giant expose that the Idaho Statesman was hyping today. Even though Roll Call broke the story of the three-term senator from Idaho who had been arrested for cruising the bathrooms of a Minnesota airport, the Statesman had been investigating allegations of Craig’s homosexuality for months – and there are portions of a revealing interview with the Senator (and, alas, his poor wife) included, where the Senator actually keeps saying “Jiminy!” A LOT.

Bye-bye, bandshell

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Luckily or unluckily, many people who may be really bummed out about this news are on their way to Burning Man. Parks and Rec has decided not to extend the Panhandle Bandshell‘s permit, and the much-feted piece of public sculpture/architecture will be dismantled in September. (The bandshell was constructed and managed by some of the more active Burning Man-related organizations)

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A detail from our 2007 Summer of Love reunion photo, taken at the bandshell. (See! We used it!)

Many people love this neato art work, but others claim it was a magnet for homeless people. I rabidly disagree. I live right by there and it’s not the bandshell that’s the problem — I’d say the problem is the homelessness. Still, I wouldn’t want the fancy residents of the “up-and-coming” Nopa neighborhood to have their idyllic dog walks interrupted by social facts. Many of these same complainers also gripe that the bandshell was hardly ever used (it was intended to provide a space for public entertainment.) But how many of these people put on any puppet shows, or grabbed a guitar or tambourine and contributed?

I have a wonderful memory from when the bandshell first went up. My mother was in town visiting. We encountered the bandshell and she hoisted me up on the stage and we did a little tango for observers nearby. Aplause, applause. Thanks, bandshell!

Fall Arts: Fall on high

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Forget that catchy monster musical Avenue Q anthem "Everyone’s a Little Bit Racist" (isn’t there a dance remix yet?) — here’s something really tickly-tacky. Last month my inverse fabuloid, anti–drag queen amigo Downy (think hairy white Whitney with nylons over her head) threw a huge party in Manhattan called "9/11 in July." Business-suited patrons were doused with baby powder on entry, to the strains of Enrique Iglesias’s "Hero" and the post-tragedy oeuvre of Mr. Bruce Springsteen. Flyer tagline: "Too early?" It was packed.

Here in the Bay, our benchmark of club-style civic self-critique is still the slew of "Fuck Burning Man" parties that spring up right about now. (What, no Muni-meltdown tunnel takeovers? And how ’bout all those unguarded downtown construction-boom sites? IMHO, jes’ sayin’.) Still, autumn is smokin’ for clubbers, with enough sassy subversion and genre-bending events to make nighttime terrors of us all. Fall’s buzz: neon laces, wine cocktails, big scarves, duck rock, blinking LEDs, and cutoffs with fishnets. Party!

Start big — and in the daylight, when both the out-rave-ous San Francisco Love Fest (Sept. 29, www.sflovefest.org) and the fetish-fantastic Folsom Street Fair (Sept. 30, www.folsomstreetfair.com) converge on San Francisco in an — eek! — angel-winged orgy of fun fur and leather. This year the intertwined events have pulled a surprise musical switcheroo. The usually local-oriented and charmingly low-tech Love Fest goes steroidal, with a lineup of international ’90s kinda supastar dance acts: Chemical Brothers, the Crystal Method, Paul van Dyk, and almost a hundred more. Then Folsom — renowned for its circuit techno overkill — injects itself with some indie dance-pop cache, with live performances by Imperial Teen, Cazwell, and the Ladytron DJ Tour. The other giant, hideously glamorous switcheroo of the season, of course, will be the Miss Trannyshack Pageant, where fun fur and leather get drenched in competitive drag queen guts. But you’ll have to watch the Trannyshack Web site (www.trannyshack.com) for the date and location; it’s like a virtual game of hide the salami!

The clubs keep pumpin’ it out too. The promoters of the huge, fabled, much-delayed Temple Nightclub (www.templesf.com), with its three dance floors, six bars, and attached restaurant, assure me it’ll be ready for its Sept. 7 grand opening party — it’s already hosted a Hilary Duff meet and greet! Prepare for an onslaught of ginormous parties to fill the cavernous space. In the meantime, you can check out the club-oriented big time of Mezzanine (www.mezzaninesf.com), with night owls screeching for dyke punk-funk-crunk rappers Yo Majesty (Sept. 12), DJ Jefrodesiac and friends’ Robot Rock party featuring Kentucky’s (only?) house rockers VHS or Beta (Sept. 14), "Do the Bartman" remixer Diplo (Sept. 22), and Christ-obsessed French techers Justice (Oct. 10). And the powerhouse musicologists of Blasthaus (www.blasthaus.com) present, at various locales, the ambient mindfunk of Bonobo (Sept. 9), Argentina–via–Los Angeles global groove heartthrob Federico Aubele (Sept. 21), and post-punk techno god Superpitcher (Oct. 19).

Too big for you? Head down any night this fall to 222 Club (www.222club.net), which just revamped its system to become the hottest little tech-dance venue in the city. Also hottt, but newer: too-fab hotel haunt Bar Drake (www.bardrake.com), awesome Latino-tinged hang Cantina (www.cantinasf.com), and drunken queer craziness at Truck (www.trucksf.com). What to drink at all of these places? Hit up Camper English’s new, comprehensively tipsy Alcademics blog (www.alcademics.com). He says tequila bottle signings are in. That’s important.

Fine. Here. Bearforce1

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Yes, dears, I know Perez fricking Hilton posted this earlier today — but the thing’s gone so viral, my inbox has gotten overloaded from rabid, hyperintellectual fans! Plus, I use more exclamation points!!! So here I repost it for you (and for me — I really can’t stop watching it.) Plus it’s kind of a personal triumph. It’s, in a way, vindication. And isn’t that what blogs are for? Self-obsessive revenge?

Meet the boys of Bearforce1:


Ta da!

The best part is that they’re from The Netherlands! Hairy from Holland! Hottt!!! Exclamation points!!!

A little while ago I wrote a Super Ego column about how the new bear generation — Bear 2.0 — is more in touch with its feminine and techno dance sides. I got a lot of shit for it. But …. proof! Hot hairy holland pastel-shirted proof! Sweeeet.

Freekend alert! Glitterbox, Chrome, Dirtybird, more

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It’s gonna be one of those crazy too much weekends on the club-freak circuit again. Luckily, I’ll be chasing drag queen Jackie Beat’s voluminous tinfoil skirts and jamming to Morris Day and the Time at fab street fest Sunset Junction in LA — somebody bring me a mirror! — so I don’t have to choose. But for those not hoofin’ it to Silver Lake, here’s a few picks — a l’il rundown on the run-up, as it were. Run around! Got a party I missed? Give it up. I’ll add more as the weekend approaches if poss. I’ve got a lot of makeup to do.

Oh, and if you haven’t seen Avenue Q yet, get yer ass down to the Orpheum Theatre, quick. As America’s premiere queer Arab American leather disco hip-hop muppet whore, I highly recommend the work of my fellow monsters (especially the Bad Idea Bears ! My people!).

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Bad Idea Bears rule

I also wanna plug one of my fave haunts – Club 222, which has far too much good stuff going on all for me to remember. Stop by for a drink, dance all evening, wonder where the hell you are in the morning. Then tell me when you find out.

Now, on to the klubz:

Oh, honestly

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› superego@sfbg.com

SUPER EGO Sweetheart, the only reason I’d ever lie to you is to score free drinks or get down your $300 freaky-deaky, pizza-stained pipe pants. I’m not the Internet — I’m your friend. You’ll never have to add two years to my age or subtract two inches from my width. And as for my length — well, I do go on a bit. Everybody knows that. (Wait. Do people still lie on the Internet anymore? Lemme check…. OK, back. Yes. Yes, they do.)

This is how incredibly, embarrassingly forthcoming I am: I can’t stop singing the new Girls Aloud single, "Sexy! No No No …," in my head (thanks, Perez fucking Hilton). I conveniently can’t recall if I’ve ever partied in the private rooftop hot tub at the Porn Palace. I used a SpongeBob beach towel from Target this morning to dry my nether parts before I put them back on. And, to Hunky Beau’s eternal chagrin, I can name any designer collection from spring ’86 to fall ’94 in two accessories or less. I wasn’t even born then! Plus, I totally forgot about National Underwear Day last Thursday. Bad gay. Bad.

Also, you’re gorgeous. Here’s a million dollars. Taste the veracity, baby.

But I still have a few little secrets left, and here are two. First, yes, I’m hot-hot-hot for drag kings. Hot in a "nuzzle me nude until your Crayola-stache rubs off on my nipples" way. I know! Ew! But this girl can’t help it, and my cup’s about to overfloweth Aug. 18 at the 12th annual San Francisco Drag King Contest at SomArts, during which a bevy of horny-drippin’ butches will b-boy it up in a bout for the king crown. It’s just like the International Fight League, but with more Mötley Crüe mashups and medical adhesives.

I asked Lu Read, the organizer, how it felt to have reached a fake-dick dozen of these suckers, and he told me "definitely balls to the wall" and that the SFDKC is "like Tease-o-Rama on testosterone and the Miss Trannyshack Pageant on steroids." Lock up your wife and child. This year’s contest boasts two preparty pump-ups and a wild after-party, all featuring a veritable queue of tuneful supporters — from rockers the Momma’s Boyz to sexpot table jock Mauricio Aviles to legendary DJ Derek B (whom I’ll miss mightily when he hightails it to far-too-fashionable Berlin next month). It’s a cavalcade, it’s a carnival, it’s a drag kingdom. Crayola nipples.

Secret two: boat parties terrify me. For one, you can’t escape — if some E’d-out fairy unicorn rainbow twirlbot latches on to you, there’s nowhere to run but in circles. But I’ve spent whole weeks doing that in my room before, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem, right? (You try finding the doorknob when you’re cross-eyed and your fingernails are moon lobsters.) For two, I prefer the bartender to mix my cocktails, not the motion of the ocean. I’ve got A legs, not sea legs. Groan.

But I do love me some PacificSound, the old-school kids who bring you the bright, techno, outdoor Sunset Parties all summer long — and Aug. 18 they’re taking it to the docks and all around the bay with their infamous Fully Loaded Boat Party. I’ve heard on good authority that magical things happen at these Pacific proceedings: helicopters fly under bridges, gays find true love, club columnists forego the ginger capsules and antinausea Bio Bands and get crazy to the boom-boom styles of Galen, J-Bird, Solar, Charlotte the Baroness, and so many more. Could it possibly be true? Oh, let’s find out for ourselves.

So. Saturday — techno boat party, drag king contest. What will I dress as? No lie: Moby Dick. *

FULLY LOADED BOAT PARTY

Aboard the San Francisco Spirit

Sat/18, 5 p.m.–11 p.m., $35 presale

Tickets available at Tweekin’ Records

593 Haight, SF

(415) 820-1664

www.pacificsound.net

SF DRAG KING CONTEST

Sat/18, 8 p.m., $15–$35

SomArts

934 Brannan, SF

(415) 282-2363

www.sfdragkingcontest.com

The LOGO LGBTQISTTQFFORUM

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So, last night the Human Right Campaign and homo cable channel-bot LOGO hosted a forum for the Democratic presidential candidates in an Oprah-like setting for a candid grilling about “GLBT issues” — luckily, for those of us who can’t shell out the skittle for subscription cable, it was available live online, in a format that actually worked! Way to go, LOGO server bandwidth! (full disclosure: I was a commentator on the forum for CBS Radio. I’m so mainstream!)

You can view some capture vids and a recap of the debate here.

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Kucinich — “magical love,” as always

YES, as a big gay, I did of course get that warm, fuzzy, Pride-trained feeling I’m supposed to get when the folks in the big house descend to talk to l’il ol’ me about what they think are my l’il ol’ issues. Plus, the intimate “forum” setting (each candidate got 15 minutes in the hot seat while the others waited in back) was ideal for disallowing the candidates to dodge and highlighting their every squirm.

Still, I was prepared to scream “BUT WHAT ABOUT THE TRANNIES!” into the ears of America as a commentator …. and the fact that Melissa Etheridge was one of the interlocutors rolled my eyes backward a bit (altho to her credit her questions were actually pretty potent — once you got past all the fawning — and she acknowledged she had no business being there as “neither a professional politician or activist.” Tell it to your global-warming Oscar, sweetie.)

Balls out: Tranny down

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One of our favorite trannies of all time, Felicia Fellatio, has just informed us that she will be OOC (that’s “out of commision” for you non-TXTRS) for a while after a little necessary testicular surgery (nothing cosmetic, she informs us). But that’s not gonna stop her from partying! Below this incredibly juicy and possibly illegal pic, a message from her about the procedure — and this Sunday’s scrotum surgery celebration!

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Hey friends –

So (and apologies for those that don’t know this yet) on Monday I go under the knife for surgery on my … scrotum. It’s a routine procedure, totally cool, and I will be fantastically drugged up for a week.

So mark your calendars for a BALLS OUT party next Sunday!

8:00 pm – whenever
Sunday August 12th
Truck – 15th and Folsom (they have food and a full bar!)

please bring NUTS: cashews, almonds, pecans, brazil nuts, etc
to celebrate

and no, I am not getting them removed or any sort of tranny castration surgery. (Balls and nuts are metaphors, people.)

LOVE XXOO

Access of Evil: Tweaker’s Choice!

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How ’bout this for a shot of homegrown comedy — and lord knows I need some after the homegrown shot of comedy that was my night at the sex club. Gurl, remind me NOT to wear my night goggles up in there. I saw too much! Too much!

The kids from the new queer comedy public access show “Access of Evil” just popped me a couple new rough vids of their sketches, and they’re pretty bombatastic. You can catch the first “Access of Evil” installment on August 19 at 1am on Channel 29 — and then every third Sunday of the month at 1am thereafter.

Hit up Trax Bar at 1437 Haight on Saturday the 18th around 11pm for a cute viewing party of the first episode. Check it out!

Secret Prison Torture Playset
with the adorable Syphilis Schlaftly

Tweaker’s Choice

“Don’t text your dealer!”

Upcoming eps include, apparently:

– Carol Channing in “Goodbye Faggot”
– Homeless Crack-whore Julie Andrews
– Zombie Judy Garland
– Goth Richard Simmons

How can they miss? Oh, and for more info or if you want to get in on the act, contact them at accessofevil@yahoo.com