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Hi Daddy, Chi-Chi, Hatches, Joshua, Dana, et al

Daddy, I suppose you are sheparding the continued thread onto / into this new interweb place (yes, sheparding is what we are calling it these days.) Or ws I supposed to post over there. I'm comfused and Rodgigo isn't here to "splain me" And yes, we are still calling it "splain me" ever since our days at Desilu right Loretta Hattie.

Chi, sorry that I haven't kept up on the technology - you rule though. J'adore the boards.

Hatches, you top, you. I think tht the wig was made into a mop. Or the wig was made from a mop?

Joshua, Just because you were always so nice to me and everyone else for that matter, I won't turn all cynical, and sarcastic, middle-aged bitter fag (Hi, Tabboo) and deny that that was me. It very well could have been, so I am happy to be that person by proxy in your memory or to have been the actual person. It's like the Roswell or McGruder file (or whatever that JFK conspiracy thingy is called) of huggy moments at the Pyramid. All I know is that I hope I wasn't wearing an actual "Huggie."

That reminds me, Elaine said that she saw this young guy walking down Avenue A in broad daylight in a bicycle shirt and diaper. Hattie, is that someone that we would know (or has interned for you)?

xxoo Hapi
(Capital X for Joshua)
Where's the spell check Button?
Last edited by Hapi Phace
Hatchy, my modern-atrix, where is the message string where you and I discuss the tricks that either you and I each fucked spent the night with and then accidentally discovered that the other one had already fucked made love with? Or in some cases accidentally fucked bought breakfast for.

Remember my drunken Irish husband (which one?) who ran into the Pyramid jumped up on stage tackled you and stuck his tongue down your throat? As he couldn't tell us apart.

I wish that had worked the other way around and some hot NYFD would have mistaken me for "firehouse Hattie."

"I'm not Hapi, my name is Lisa, Hapi left here long ago"
Last edited by Hapi Phace
Barton Sicuso called me recently - but his cell was breaking up and I didn't get the whole number, but from the area code he's in Frisco.

The bar dancer in blue body paint (mentioned elsewhere here) and the mohawk is another story. He is a butoh dancer / house cleaner / art school model / bicyle repair person now living in Philly. I still "see" him from time to time.

Originally posted by hatches:
When will they ever learm, Bonnie? Didn't you sing that?

Haps... Avenue A... young? I guess that rules out both David C. and Barton Sicuso.

Hapi will never be a Luddite, but I sure wish she would plant something pretty in that urn in front of her house, other than that scraggly Ailanthis weed. Eek
Originally posted by Hapi Phace:

Joshua, Just because you were always

Aw gee. Right back at ya.

Also, Hatches, Hap et. al, here are some random Pyramid queries--

Who was/ what happened to ...

the old guy who looked like William Burroughs?
the frail girl who danced by herself?
Joey K. (vulcan ears, garland, who used to spin to "new gold dream")

random pyramid physical recollections:

the banquette (sp?)
the stream in the basement
the night i actually finally got locked in at 5am.
The girl who danced with herself was named Rachel. I think joey one time made her a statuette-style drapery and got her to go-go dance. Or do I have manufactured-memory-syndrome, Hattie?

I remember the Burroughs-look-a-like - he must be 100 by now. He coould dance. I liked when he would dance with Rachel.

Joshua - were you there when that woman - an older woman used to draw people's portraits? - this was way before Baby Gregor was doing it. She had super red hair, I think.

Non-Pyramid characters of that era.
Remember the tall woman who used to walk really fast in the street and was totally covered from head to toe in scarves?
Then there is the classic, the guy with the paperbag hat that lived behind the trash cans on the corner of 9thor 10th street. John Kelly dressed up like him for one of his shows. It brought the house down.

Then there was the lady who painted those nun paintings on scraps of canvas. I have a number of those paintings, of course . . . not to mention the Baby Gregor collection as well.

does anyone still ahve one of my smiley face on vellum paintings from the 99-Cent painting show that I had at Boy bar. Someone once told me that that was mentioned in The Secret Language of the Cranes however, I do not know that that is true as I do not read gay novels since I am a heterosexual woman.

How about Ida, the gum-smacking, cat-eyed glasses waitress at THE REAL ODESSA (RIP). She worked during the day at the DMV. She was a godess.

The super-fruitty flirty doble-entrendre spouting blonde polish waiter at the Real Odessa (RIP) who ended up in Honcho magazine or something.

Of course there was Al who would water down the rot gut. Frank the custodian who DIED in the Pyramid - talk about getting locked in the Pyramid!

Oh Beatriz, Olympia's friend who read Tarot cards, what ever happened to ehr. didn't she smoke like 5 packs of cigarettes a day or something weird like that?

There used to be this guy that woudl come by when his lover was out of town and flash me when I was on stage. I would go home with him and we'd have a dysfunctional fuckfest for three days at a time . . . or something vaugely similar to that . . . he was a paige at the David Letterman Show or something like that.

Then Hattie there was Ra_ph _ox - what was that story?

Oh somewhere someone was taslkign aobut that show where Philly projectile vomitted after Hattie tied her up after she passed out . . . the name of that show was "Attack of the Spider Women from the Planet Crab Nebula." Sometiems I have a memory like a steel trap - but usually only when it will embarrass or humiliate someone else.

xxooo for now, the Hapinator
You are killing me with your memory!
I can help with a couple "where are they nows".

1) Beatriz moved back to Mexico and has grandchildren (maybe GREAT grandchildren).
She always writes to The Empresss and I on our birthdays. She's good.

2) And Frank, if he is the one that I'm thinking of...
Lady Bunny made a plaster cast of his enormous member (probably after he died) and has it (let's just say) safely tucked away.
In fact, she may have been the one that killed him.

3) Baby Gregor is gone but his paintings live on. I heard that one recently sold at Sotheby's for one million dollars. Of course it was Messy Bonnie who told me that. She has quite a few and is trying to unload them.
In no particular order:

-- Nick was the name of the old man who everyone thought was Burroughs.

-- Rachel, the bar dancer, was a librarian by day, I think at Cardozo.

-- I have two of those nun paintings

-- I have many Baby Gregor paintings and quite a bit of his record collection... many later became the "soundtracks" for Blacklips shows.

-- Ida later moved on to the REAL Second Avenue Deli(RIP) and has probably moved on to wherever else they have 86'd the Yankee Bean Soup.

-- Our own Pops Steiner had the misfortune to find Frank's body when she stopped by to drop off her records in the early afternoon after he died. I went to the wake at the funeral home in Bed Stuy, which featured a faux fireplace whose flames were electric bulbs behind a squeaky rotating plastic fire. This was in July or August and there was no air conditioning. They did, however, pass out little fans with the funeral director's face printed on them, I think I still have one.

--the stream in the Pyramid basement still runs, you know. it has been redirected and pumped outside and if you look curbside, you can see a small rubber hose that periodically emits a gush of water into the gutter. Since all that land east of First Avenue was originally marsh and mudflats, it's not surprising that there is still a stream.

-- And finally, the man with the paper bag hat. Al, the booze waterer, told me this story, so take it with an ounce of H2O...
Once upon a time, a man and his wife owned the real drugstore which later became the restaurant Pharmacy. The wife died a lengthy and painful death from cancer; the man lost his mind, along with the business and home and took to wandering the streets. Then, unlike now, the neighborhood took care of its own and he was fed by "Mama" at the REAL Odessa (RIP) and given shelter and cigarettes by Ray who owned the cigarette store on that block. The reasoning behind the bag on head eludes me, but it always reminded me of the "vinegar and brown paper" line from Jack and Jill. His crown was broken, no?
Last edited by hatches
There but for the grace of God go I.

Late last night I was walking Casanova and I saw someone from "back in the day". At first I thought I should give some money to this hunched over, broken old man. Then I realized who it was and decided that it would have been too embarassing for him. (This happened once before when I didn't recognize him and tried to give him money. He was devasted and started crying -not the reaction I was looking for.) This guy is at least 10 years younger than me and looks like my granfather. Years of drugs have destroyed him. He walks like he's dead already.

When I think back on those days at The Pyramid... somehow we were all the same.
Young and stupid.
Some got out and some didn't.
This guy who is so dead now, could have been any one of us.
Ya know, the funny thing is that the other day I thought of something like three other"where are they now" people East Village characters and Pyramid regulars . . . and meant to post them when I got the 'puter warmed up . . . but now I forget who I had remembered. Memory is a funny thing. I just remembered someone who I hadn't thought of befor - Red Ed. Hatches I'm sure you know where he is now. However Hattie, I too heard that same story about the paper-bag hat pharmacist and I don'think tha it was you who told me, I think it was one of my neighbors from when I lived on 9th Street . . . but I could be wrong about that. It was probably you.

Who is Pops Stiener, is THAT Larry T? Smile

Every now and then I see some old East Village kook on the street - and they perhaps see me too - and though we maybe never ever knew each other by name - we recognize each other from a time when there were hundreds of us "character types" milling about the streets . . . now like endangered species we are outnumbered by this invading species of NYC (aka NYU) newbies . . . and somehow when I see an old EVK (East Village Kook) I feel assured that there is someone else who is holding out in their under $500 a month roach and rat infested tenement flat.

As Tabboo so succinctly put it recently, "Us old East Village fags are new old Polish ladies and these new kids are just waiting for us to die so they can get our apartments." In the words of Herr Kookala (aka "Smokey"), "Oh the vissisitudes of life."

My recreation of Lucy Carmichael in "Heil Lucy" was some of my best "work" - ever! Not to mention the casting of Davey Illku as Mr. Mary-Jane Mooney and Clark Render as Kim-Craig Carmichel. Unfortuanately though the shows were not taped on VHS but in Kineoscope and all the tape has disovled into sulfuric acid.
Oh hi Dany, Hapi here. I remember that now. I like your butch screen name. Whenever I don't know who someone here is I qoate a post that Dana wrote way back when he didn't know who "daddy" was and he asked Hatches if that was Larry T.? I thoughtthat was funny, and as everyone knows that if I think something is even mildly funny I repeat it over and ove rand over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over ana over . . . etc. etc. I think that's a syptom of Assburgers Syndrome.

xxoo Hapi
Speaking of musty old Pyramid trollsPyramid Legends . . . I just gotta call form Tabboo! and it turns out that she is doing her own play: "Surrender Dorothy (Spornak)" at the Gene Frankel Theater on Bond St (tween Bowery & Lafayette) at 8pm Friday & Saturday October 13 & 14 . . . I'm going to go tomorrow Friday the 13th - it seems fitting somehow - so I hope to see some of my old stalkers , , , as well as some other legends in the audience

PS for you freakish Pyramid trivia queens (all two of ya) Though Tabboo! is known as a "one name wonder" like Cher and Madonna. She too has a last name. What is Tabboo!'s last name?
Originally posted by TIMMY TIM:
hello everyone,
there is a rumour that film of all the performances at pyramid is in a storage locker somewhere in nyc.... is this true??? the thought of having the chance to see hapi phace as lucy carmichael again makes me wanna cry!!

Hattie - who is this Timmy Tim? Is THAT Larry T? Please son't make me open up the musty old storage locker . . . it's spooky in there.
Oh Miss Demeanor . . .even MessY bONNIE rAIT knows that they are calling that "freinds with privleges" these days! That way I don't sound like a slut . . . I sound generous! He's a friend smurf with privleges.
Originally posted by Miss Understood:
I think I remember that blue guy, like I saw him out at a march or something. Is he your fuckbuddy penpal?

Last edited by Hapi Phace
some funny and sad shit. Hi Hapi and Hello Mr Josh. long time but NOT half as long as some of those WHISPERS shows i remember. I remember telling you through the stage MONITORS after one of you 20 minute shows were passing the 1 hour mark. I remember saying things like "shows over in 2 minutes" while david crocker chuckled next to me. our plan was as follows. i\ll start cutting the microphone piece by piece (the scratch dj do "a scratch" while My all time favorite tech buddy/mc Mr. crocker would put some "sickening light colors together" making the stage into a bath of green/brown/blue. well .... it looked like that would do it but.... no..... that show went on 4 yrs. in my head and i still laugh at that. in all... it really didn't imped the show any ... only the MOST DRUNK were left and stocking up 4 last call. No matter all of it. i'll always love you (really)... you did have some GREAT shows that shocked the shit outta me (as in.. HOW FAR IS THIS GOIN.) I LOVED YOU BECAUSE ... NO ONE COULD INSULT YOU ENOUGH TO STOP YOU FROM YOUR DESIRES AND WHIMS.

JOSH... you were way to nice 4 that club. and i always felt you understood more than i did concerning tech duties. I have a mental picture of you cleaning machines in the tech rm. and rambling on about getting a job at CB's (which you did and i visited) ... creig and i came almost 2 weeks apart. i miss you buddy.
I'm now living in Beijing , i teach the chinese womens gymnastic team and the chinese national diving team ENGLISH (btw.. last wk... the girls became # 1 in the world.) i also do rockstar dj gigs in other chinese cities. i'm living a dream.. plenty of pussy (hahahahaha) and No drugs. keep in touch bro. Hapi... that's 4 u 2. i loved reading the comments. keep'em coming
on a sad note... if anyone remembers BOB "gurtler" my close friend and club tech guy. He recently OD-ed in a bar bathroom next to tompkins sq. i miss him (the fuck)
Wait a minute,
before things get TOO warm and fuzzy around here...
Can we talk about Mr. Buttz?
That was one of the most disturbing visions of my life. I still have nightmares!

Mr. Buttz (sp?) was a giant painting of a naked man bending over with a big puckered asshole. The middle of the asshole was cut out so there really was a hole. Hapi would stand behind the painting and stick his lips through the hole and tell jokes. A talking Asshole, Mr. Buttz.
Again, it was really disturbing staring at that asshole and having it talk to you, tell you jokes.
Hi Dana

That was fun(ny) to get the tech-take on my stage fortitutude and tenacity (two-hour shows). That stage was a battle ground in some ways, all those drag bitches and their air-kisses . . . with their shiny-sharp knives tucked up their chiffon sleeves (Hi Bunny!) . . . to have that mike and keep going & going was territorial in a way . . . sort of like a Chihuahua peeing in the house to mark its territory. Like a Chihuahua really gets any territory . . . but they are so cute, ¡Ay, carumba!

One of my earliest memories of you Dana (or is that: one of the memories that manages to stand out of the greyed-out drug blur-mess?) is Ethyl Eighelberger and Agosto Machado whispering to me as you passed, "He's a Golden Gloves, you know."

Being a big sissy, I had no idea what the hell that was . . . also being a naive little fag who didn't know half of the things that I should have known . . . I imagined it meant something perverted. "Drag-Libs:" Golden . . . means _____ Gloves . . . means ______

However; Agosto, who is a big sports fan and whom I still see,* regularly (I digress, but . . . he just starred in Tabboo!'s play at the Gene Frankel Theater {that place is a time-warp . . . I'm ticking off the days until NYU flattens that and builds a dorm there . . . . but I digress on a digression} Anyway, they were VERY proud of you for that . . . Ethyl was big on having something else going on in one's life besides the "smell of the crowds and the roar of the grease-paint." Ethyl always told me that she was proudest of her Beauty School Diploma more than any stage accolade she had earned.

Of course, Tabby and I could only imagine you all bloody and sweaty in your silk boxing shorts pummeling one of us . . . oh, dear. But that was Zen and this is Tao. The beauty of the Pyramid was that a couple of high-fems like Tabboo! and me and a bunch of butch tech-guys (ignoring David Crocker's smudged eye-shadow) could all come together over a nice big fat "doobie."

Funny thing is, getting back to the start of this half-hour mike-grab of a rambling post is, that I always thought that that was Sister Dimenension that was pulling the plug on the mike and the lights. And to David Ratt, wherever you are, it was pure synchronisity that you and I both picked Pink Floyyd Dark Side of the Moon to lipsynch on the same night . . . just one of those weird things liek two rich ladies both showing up at the gala with the same one-of-a-kind designer gowns . . . nevertheless, I seem to remember that your lipsnych was way better than mine.

xx oox to all, The Hapster (will be making a cameo appearance ath the "Ibsen in the 21st Century" Seminar at BAM on Sat, Oct 28; 3pm in an excerpt from "Hedda Gabler, Hedda Gabler" with DanceNoise {special guest star Gina}, but I digress yet again)

* Footnote to Miss Demeanor, No, "see" means "run into on the street" or "go out to dinner with" not "bag in bed" nor "slip a rod to" nor "kie-kie"
Oh have we digressed* to speaking of Mr Butz!

He wasn't from Whispers, I think that he was from Cuchifritos or from Hatttie and Hapi Rock, Thursdays!! or even worse (but most fittingly) the ill-fated Hapi's Backdoor (sEE hAPI pHACE nUDE, lIVE ON sTAGE, a Nurse will be on duty) [NOTE TO NYU Performance Studies students: Hattie had an old nurse uniform so she "was the nurse;" in the spirit of a William Castle premiere, I'm a bit of an exhibitionist (I guess), and there was no money, hence no costumes. Otherwise, there was zero artistic insiration involved.]

Mr Butz! was supposed to be a soft scuplture ass puppet that I was going to wear on my head like a hat - - aren't there charachters like that on Family Guy or Family Guy now?

Anyway, it was just some drunken or stoned rambling idea I blurted out to Pookie (Richard Move) and Sandy Sheets one night. Well, Pook could NOT stop bugging me do Mr Butz. Of course he loved the part where MR. Butz smokes a cigar and eats Tootsie Rolls.

I kept insisting that that was a mistaken idea-burst that was best kept in the bottle of Tequila from which it originated . . . but you know what they say about the genie and the bottle . . .

Anyway, I had given already given up my brief career as a soft-scuplture artist, but came up with the idea to just drape a canvas (with a drawing of a man bent-over, pants dropped) over a ladder and a hole-cut out at he pucker-hole - and my lips sticking out. (Lambert {Ebony Jet} drew it!) Voila! Mr. Butz, the talking asshole - oh and in his uncontrolable urge to constantly humiliate and demean me, Pook indeed made me EAT TOOTSIE ROLLS & SMOKE CIGARS - and I think spit out the tootsie rolls . . . whilst I was ensconsed in the MR Butz persona-puppet torture device. Mr. Butz spoked in a very deep scratchy voice and coughed a lot (with fart soundz mixed in with the coughs - of course).

But that was not all -oh, no. He then booked Mr Butz to MC the Jackie Christmas Show (I think it was Christmas, but my memory, Daddy can you remember?)at La MaMa. Not only that, he sat me next to Debbie in the dressing room and tells her, Hapi is going to introduce you, yadda, yadda, yadda. I think this was the first time I had ever met her, and natch, I was living in a dream sitting next to debbie in the dressing room of Ellen Stewart's La MaMa Experimental Theater Club (ETC), (imagine my inner drama-queen screaming with glee) someone pinch me . . . so we are chatting and everything is well in my universe . . . until we get up to the stage and I get into my "costume."

I think Debbie was a bit mortified to see that a cigar smoking, tootsie roll chomping ass-puppet (me) was going to intro her - I think that she was afraid of me after that! But she didn't move away from me in the dress room, she is too nice for that, but Pookie was absolutely thrilled with himself for having humilated me.

Yes, Messy Bonnie the word-stem of the day is "digress," but I digress, yet again.
Last edited by Hapi Phace
First of all Happs...
I'm sure Debbie LOVED Mr. Butz.
She has a big "brown streak" as we all know. *

And as I recall, you and Debbie worked together in another Jackie Christmas show. You were the "Signing Nun" to Debbie's priest. She sang "Maria" as a man and you signed the words.**


* Debbie accepting her "Francine 59 Award For Lifetime Achievment" at Jackie 60:
"This award means more to me than a good bowel movement".

** Some of you may not know this but besides being the formost Herman Melville scholar in the world, Hapi Phace is also a poet-master of sign language. (Having to learn to sign after getting hit in the head with a hook by Johnny Dynell after refusing to leave the stage. Hapi is "def" -as the kids say).

*** I would like to thank Herman Melvillle scholar Hapi Phace for introduciing the colored footnote to the Motherboards. As Francine 59 would say, "You were the first Hon".

And we thank you.
Dana, I think it's safe to say we all want to come and scandalize your employers and all the youth of Beijing! I'm not sure what you meant by "understood more than i did concerning tech duties" but if I recall rightly didn't you go on some daredevil road trip just to snag a PA system for Wigstock, maybe the very first Wigstock? That blew me away.

Is one of the lessons of motherboards that drag queens are great writers? Or is it just a matter of self-selection?

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