I have to leave for healing gay yoga in like ten minutes, but my pre-yoga coffee has kicked in and I feel like blogging! I have never drank so much coffee before yoga before! What will happen? I'm excited!

The past three days have been, like, jam-packed with amazing literary-ish events, starting back on Saturday night at the Center for Sex and Culture with Kirk Read + Tara Jepsen's possibly (hopefully) new performance art cabaret series. It was such a great event I bet they'll keep doing it. I feel like San Francisco could really use a place for people to stuff yams up their ass or, in the case of Mr. Read, a bunch of chocolate smeared poop-like up his butt, to then smear into a saucy halo above an effigy of Barack Obama. I love Barack Obama so much I am seriously tempted to hit that dollar store on Mission selling posters of the president embracing the first lady from behind with the text LOVIN . . . OBAMA STYLE!, surrounded by hearts. But the system is the system and power is power and if someone is going to make challenging performance art about the only president I've ever loved I'm psyched its Kirk Read. He started the night with a hilarious monologue about his internet addiction (and ours). Kirk Read is the most fearless and honest performer I know. Tara Jepsen and Beth Lisick did a piece as their hapless lady comedy duo, Carole and Mitzi, and per usual it was super funny. The premise is they just ran to the venue from a public pool in the mission; Carole was half-naked with a strategically draped towel and Mitzi was wearing a sporty maillot and a robe. They came out again later as a two new characters who I LOVED, a couple of bros jamming mystically to The Dave Matthews Band, talking about love and plant life. It was sort of heartbreaking and really funny with a sweet edge, so dorky, um, it was genius. When will someone give those bitches their own show? Huh? Silas Howard previewed a piece of his work-in-progress one-man show which will be debuting at the National Queer Arts Festival this summer. It's about him trying to get a film made about Billy Tipton, the jazz musician of yore who, it was realized upon his death, was trans. Silas went and interviewed Billy's last wife, and the part of his piece where he talks about the aging, sort of demented burlesque dancer is amazing. It's important queer history being unearthed and it's also fascinating to hear about Silas' adventures in Hollywood, which sound as craptastic as you could imagine. The final performer was the truly insane Erin Markey, who you saw on the last Sex Workers Art Show Tour if you are lucky and if not find her and start following her around because she is so brilliant. Her first piece was introduced as an homage to an homage, a cover of Carolee Schneeman's 'Interior Scroll' in which the artist pulled a 2nd-wave feminist manifesto from her snatch. I LOVE Interior Scroll and in general LOVE performance artists stuffing things into their orifices, so I was psyched, but of course it was not anything as earnest and arty as that — Erin Markey pulled from what the writer Laurie Weeks calls 'Nature's little backpack' a scroll printed with um the greeting the Mayor of Munchkinland read to Dorothy when she plopped her house on the Wicked Witch. She read it in a manic Munchkin voice, of course, eyes bulging. Later she did a snippet of her musical, A Stripper's Tail, in which she switches characters between herself, a bumbling stripper who can't shave her pubes, a midwestern dude bbqing on his lawn, and the sort of husky, languid stripper Erin has a crush on. She changes characters so quickly and intensely it's like she's possessed, and it's a real thrill to watch. Her last piece involved getting people to stuff dollar bills into a hole drilled into the crotch of a baby doll, while singing in a cockney accent.

Oh no it's time for yoga and I never even got to playing the scarecrow in Elan's epic, insane, Cocketteish, pagan queer porno interpretation of The Wizard of Oz, OR the cocktail party celebrating the completion of Daniel Handler's next novel, involving a teenage girl and a man with Alzheimer's becoming pirates on the San Francisco Bay, OR seeing Yes Alexander play her first show with live keyboards and harmonica at Slim's last night! I get to hear Yes play music all the time because we live down the hall from each other, but it was so magnificent to see her up on a well-lit stage wearing one of those harmonica thingies Bob Dylan wore, where you like strap the thing to your face. The music was moody and gorgeous and haunting and otherworldly, and when it gets a little poppy its like she's giving you candy after giving you opium. You can see for yourself when Yes performs at the Radar SPECTACLE, alongside Dorothy Allison, Eileen Myles and others, at a.Muse Gallery on May 30th. See you there! I'm late for yoga!