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No Daddy, I never realized how young NAMBLA's focus was until I bought that mag for research. And the letters within, all from incarcerated molesters, who previously held jobs like playground attendants and little league coaches. Yuck! 14 or 15 I might understand (might), but 4 though 8? No way!
Anyway, Man/Puppet Love was SO much better.
So much information to process in just one reading. Daddy (I feel so silly calling you that)
are you really friends with Lauren Hutton? I simply adore her. I have since she first appeared in print so many years ago. Very handsome woman. Unconventional looks, but still very striking. Thank you for the encouragement in my hair dilemma. Mr. Joe! I feel such a warmth from your writing. I have dined at The Park restaurant on more than one occasion. A gentleman friend and I have been there three different occasions. I have not been since the smoking ban. I would dine in a parking lot if they would allow me to smoke a cig with my scotch before dinner. I am mad for dancing. Dancing is my life basically. I am my best on the dance floor with a competent partner, and a beat to guide us. Do you dance Mr. Joe? A mild case of arthritis in my hips makes it a little harder to get those moves out, but I am not beat yet. Anna Nicole, so glad you stopped by to pay a visit. I would love to join you at caberet Magique sometime very soon. Before too many packs of Lucky's took my voice south, I loved to entertain my chums by getting up and singing silly songs at the Duplex. I really am a terrible bunch of fun. My Tinkerbell is eating soft food for three days as her doggy crown settles in her mouth. She really is an old lady, but I trick her into being a puppy. As for the N word talk. I say ENOUGH. Lets concentrate on bold, colorful topics. Mr. Joe, I would adore a visit this summer, and will certainly see any theatrical production you recommend. Perhaps we can share a tango on my sunporch? I promise not to make you awkward. I am a very good teacher. And I will email you soon. thank you for extending your friendship. I have many themed parties over the course of the summer at my home. My Hawaiian themed party even include a torch lined pathway to my garden where I have Hawaiian singers and Hula dancers. Polynesian attire is so summery and romantic. I am mad for sarong skirts and a little cotton top over a bikini. I feel my most romantic with fresh flowers in my hair. I have had such joy speaking to all of you new cybie friends. I hope we can meet very soon and enjoy many cigs over a few scotches. Where is Tangle?
And where is that divine Bobby Miller? I hope I didnt make him uncomfortable. I tend to go on some times.
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Everyone calls me Daddy, don't feel funny about it.

So how does it feel to be on the tip of EVERYONE'S tounge? (I bet you haven't felt that since Plato's retreat! -just kidding.)
Last night at Cabaret Magique the room was buzzing with rumors that you were there. It was hysterical. You'd think Osama Bin Laden was in the room the way people (including me) were acting. Pointing at strangers and asking, "Do you think that's her?"

And pay no attention to a certain "Mrs. Messy You Know Who". She's a bit fuzzy until she does a little coke. Then she's fine. (Believe me, she does not know Don Ho). Just don't invite her out to your summer retreat. She'll never leave. And if she does, it will be with half of your belongings. Just a warning.
So many of us are hoping you can make it to Cabaret Magique. It's an early event and so many of us from The Motherboards go. Johhny Dynell, aka Daddy,and his wife Chi Chi throw the party and it really is comfortable. It is at a beautiful restaurant called Chez Esaada. We would love to have you stop by. Bring a friend if you like. I am performing the last Wednesday of the month, and would love to have you there. Please consider the invitation. We all are excited to meet you. And by the way, I am not the bitch these guys make me out to be. I am a good witch. Witches Honor!!!!!!!!! Big Grin Big Grin Big Grin Big Grin

[This message was edited by sweetie on 05-17-03 at 02:29 PM.]
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I will try my best to make it to the caberet on May 28. I haven't been to a caberet since my Duplex days. Miss Understood, you are fabulous. Your hair must be quite labor intensive. I have quite long hair myself and just to wash and dry it is a day long chore. I know it must be a hair piece as well, but the style is so creative. I am a scotch drinker, single malt preferably, but a Black Label alway suffices when in dire straights. How does one dress for this caberet? Tall hats? Very interesting. Is there a dance floor? A patio for my nasty puffing habit? Someone please include the address and directions, as I will be travelling by car. I am honored to have been invited. Thank you Sweetie, Miss Understood, Zazoo and Tori. I look forward to meeting you all. Will Bobby Miller be involved in the caberet that evening?
My love affair with E.A.P goes back to 1967, when I was a cocktail waitress/hostess in the VIP quarters of The Sahara in Las Vegas Nevada. I was young and extremely impressionable. I had met many famous types while working the graveyard shift when many of the performers in town liked to drink and gamble with their cronies. Joey Bishop, Rodney Dangerfield, Phyllis Diller, Totie Fields, Marty Allen, Rusty Warren, Charlie Callas. I entertained many celebrities. I was star struck like most young girls my age, but kept myself in control enough to handle my duties. Charlie Callas, although physically unattractive, was one of the most charming men I have ever met. One evening out of the clear blue sky, E.A.P and about a dozen of his boys from Memphis came in and started yelling and carrying on like a group of wild indians. I was terrified. E.A.P was unshaven and visibly intoxicated. He was still handsome beyond my wildest dreams. His hair was so black it shined navy blue, and although he was in need of sleep, he had the face of an angel. A very good looking angel. He moved around the room, attending to the needs of his men like a mother hen. I was standing in a corner, trying to be invisible and he came up with a hand full of cash, and asked me to run to the gift shop for cigarettes, cigars, and chewing gum for his friends. He must have handed me two hundred dollars, which in those days was a fortune, and whisperd his instructions in my ear, the whole time his scruffy, unshaven cheek, running across mine. His cologne was like nothing I had smelled before. Later I narrowed it down to Royal Copenhagen, but it was unknown to me at the time. I followed his instructions to the letter and returned with the things he had asked for. The total was only about thirty five dollars and he insisted I keep the change. He took my hand and shook it warmly and again rubbed his cheek against mine. It was a life changing experience to be touched by such greatness in such intimate circumstances. His charm, warmth, and magnetism rolled off him like his intoxicating cologne. I have been under his undying spell ever since. I am an E.A.P historian of sorts, and am frequently asked to comment on E.A.P fan sites all over the internet. I am able to recite in order his every number one hit, and have a concrete theory as to the events leading to his most tragic death, and the motives of the vultures who tried to tarnish his legacy. It is also my firm belief that I have been the target of an investigation surrounding my theory as to the reasons leading up to E.A.P's demise, and I have gone on record as saying I have felt I was being watched by recording company executives and their greedy henchmen. To many of you this sounds ludicrous, to me however I am absoulute in my beliefs and will one day prove my theory beyond a shadow of a doubt. I believe given the right circumstances I could have been a very important person in E.A.P's life, and can only hope in his afterlife he has witnessed the work I have done in perserving his memory, and keeping his powerful legacy alive. I have met with Pricilla as well as Lisa Marie on two occasions at Graceland, and feel as if they are my family, although our meetings were brief. The exchange of hello actually. They know how much E. A.P meant to me. I am more than a fan, I feel like a widow. It is early and I have playdates for
my Tinkerbell. Happy Sunday cybies.
My lovely Mrs. Plop, your story about E.A.P. is enchanting. You are treating your love for him and your mission for his honor with such dignity. My respect for you grows with each of your letters.

"Love letters straight from your heart
Keep us so near while apart"

Do you know that everyone has been calling me Mr. Plop?

...and Mr. Joe is right I love to tango, but I do need some lessons. It sounds like you would be quite the partner. Perhaps one sunny afternoon on Fire Island I will find myself lucky enough to receive a lesson from you. So many stories I would love to hear from you as well: Plato's Retreat, the underground, heterosexual New York in the late 70's. Your history is facinating to me. Mrs. Plop, if you are planning on attending Cabaret Magique on Wednesday, perhaps you would allow me to pick you up at your home and escort you to the event. It would be an honor.

yours truly,
Mr. Tangle
flipscratch@hotmail.com

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