Well, well, well. It has been a star-studded last couple of weeks here in Mob-easy. A local gal made Playboy. Don’t get too excited just yet, no nudity was involved. And it’s not that often that we get back-to-back celebrity sightings, especially at Wintzell’s. If this keeps up, they’ll have to change their name to The Ivy. Suckin’ down raw oysters at The Ivy – I like it. And Lagniappe even made Leno, well sort of, in a roundabout way. Strangely also involving oysters. So grab some Tabasco and horseradish, slap this tasty gossip on a saltine and let it slide right on down your throat.
I just read the articles
One of my favorite "Gassy" spies reported last week that apparently some local girl had made a recent issue of Playboy. This had been quite the talk around town. He said he hadn’t seen it personally, but had heard she talked about being a bad girl and how her badness came to being at Greystone Christian School and Dauphin Way Baptist.
He said there were no pictures, though. I was a bit confused because I originally thought why would they interview one of their models and not use her pictures.
But the next day, the Gassy one gave me a copy of the article, which he said someone sent to him anonymously. It was indeed in an envelope with no return address and the folded up magazine paper looked, um, well read.
Anyway, after I saw it I realized it was actually just an article written by one time Mobile resident Michelle Richmond, who now lives in California. In the article, "To the Bad Girls, Go the Spoils," Richmond realizes in a quest to gain infamy on a variety of reality TV shows, she should present herself as a bad girl rather than the "devoted mother… earnest writer of obscure literary fiction… [and] enthusiastic teacher" she is. So she jots down her resume of badness.
Under the "Sexy and/or Sexual Badness" heading the Murphy High School graduate writes, "For a couple of years in high school I was an enthusiastic member of an overzealous Southern Baptist youth group. It was not beneath me to give a guy a hand job in order to persuade him to attend a contemporary Christian rock concert. My target audience: track-and-field boys. My message: Religion can be fun!"
Boozie loves this girl. She could be my new best friend. I can’t tell you how many of my friends did un-Baptist things on buses to Bible retreats to Panama City. Hee hee! By the way, Boozie, of course, never personally engaged in any sort of said illicit Baptist bus behavior and is, of course, still a virgin.
Anyway, when Richmond is explaining the origin of giving hand jobs for Him, she says it all started out in 1975 at Greystone Christian School’s kindergarten. She tells of a boy named Roland being in Mrs. Smith’s class and how he stuck his hand in a fish tank, even though Mrs. Smith strictly forbade any fish tank violation. She was so excited by Roland’s rebelliousness that she gave him a "big, wet one," at which point Roland began to cry. But at that moment she realized the "awesome power of a kiss." Roland, if you are still out there, Boozie would sure love to hear your side of this.
The other bullet under the origin read, "1982, Dauphin Way Baptist Church, Wednesday-night prayer meeting. I am sitting in the balcony with Jimmy, a blond boy whom I love. The pastor is miles away at the front of the church (And this is before they built Six Flags over Jesus, right?), praying into the microphone. The lights in the church are low. The choir is singing, "Have Thine Own Way, Lord," and Jimmy stretches out his hand, palm up. It hovers above my lap. It occurs to me that he would like me to hold his hand, but I’ve never held hands with a boy before and don’t know how to go about it. We are supposed to be praying, but I am thinking of Jimmy’s beautiful hand, tiny blond hairs just beginning to form at the base of the wrist. I am a 12 year old in a church in Alabama, and I am thinking quite plainly about having sex with Jimmy – despite the fact that this is something I have never done before and wouldn’t know how to do. The shape of his hand hovering there is enough to plunge me into erotic bliss."
Boozie was able to get in touch with the fabulous Miz Richmond via e-mail and she said she had heard from a few Mobilians who had read her essay, one musician stated his doubt she learned any sexual badness at Greystone.
Richmond’s latest book San Francisco Chronicle bestseller "The Year of Fog" came out in March and has been optioned by Newmarket Films. It is available at all local bookstores. You can also find links to more of her essays at www.michellerichmond.com, including one entitled "Putting Out: How You and All Your Friends Came to Know Jesus,"’ in which Richmond says Mobile is featured prominently. Her writing is so sassy and fun, I can’t wait to devour all of these works.
Why won’t they just let me live?
I got a message from my Wintzell’s spy that Whitney Houston’s ex Bobby Brown, who was in town for Funk Fest last weekend, dined at the Dauphin Street oyster bar. She says he was with his new girlfriend, Karrine Steffans, who supposedly was Whitney’s BFF and is rumored to have caused their divorce. (Yeah, I’m sure she’s the only thing that shattered that perfect image of domestic bliss). Anyway, the spy said he sang to Steffans in the bar after several shots of Cuervo Black. She added, "he is a very nice guy…signed all autographs and took all pictures and there were tons, without ever having an attitude about it. She says he also tips very well. Well, that is his prerogative.
Speaking of Wintzell’s, Warren Haynes of Gov’t Mule and Allman Brothers fame was in there the day Godsmack played the Saenger, Sunday, May 6. Apparently Warren’s cousin is in the band. No word on if he sang or did any shots of Cuervo Black. Somehow I doubt it.
Lagniappe on Leno
The Topless Oyster Bar ad that runs in this fine publication from time to time was featured in the "Headlines" segment of "The Tonight Show" Monday night, May 7. Jay made fun of the fact that written right under the Topless Oyster Bar logo it says "A Family Restaurant." He said, "Now there’s a family restaurant dad wouldn’t mind going to."
Now, of course, we all know down here that a topless oyster means one on the half shell, but I guess it’s not as obvious in the other LA.
Well kids, that’s all I got this time. I’ll have spies at all the nearby beaches Memorial Day Weekend, so please make sure to proudly show your sandy asses. And all you myspacers, make sure to become my friend at www.myspace.com/booziebeernues. Just remember, rain or shine, dramatic or scandalous, or just some plain ol’ Baptist boy lovin’, I will be there. Ciao.