At a table strewn with peanut M&Ms, with the hand-held cam swooping in to catch their priceless expressions close up and inscrutable, Fenton, Randy, James, and Moye discuss the recent GLAAD Awards, the TransGeneration win, the producers’ unusual lack of both wardrobe and frenzied anticipation, and TJ’s surprise marriage proposal to Staci while on the Kodak stage. Well, the discussion doesn’t so much include Moye: no one lets her get a word in.
Liza is deconstructed in general again, her Liza with a Z! in particular, prompting Randy to murmer, “We’re so gay.” Who, they want to know, could pull off a Liza today? Mariah? American Idol, the Queen edition, is discussed, not favorably by all, but by some. Who are The Bog People, and will they be at the exhibition of their pottery? Randy, a late-bloomer, swears by Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff; Fenton touts Caesar’s Way, a train-the-master-not-the-dog dog-training manual. Enter Steven first with coffee, then his pug Stella.
James claims to have seduced a fan into revealing his penis on MySpace and got a teensy bit drunk on the power to persuade a penis from its pants just by requesting. MySpace cybercide inevitable. Ashley Parker Angel, his fiancee, and the gorilla on the season premiere of Punk’d. Pink spoofing the dumb girls. Are women feeding into their own oppression? Paris Hilton. Martha Stewart. Buying greeting cards with no intention of sending them. Michael Alig due to be released in, like, four months and with a plan to make $200,000 instantly. Will it work? Could it work? Should it work?