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April 2004

Friday Afternoon

Friday I took off work so I could participate in several official events. The last few years of Fantasm Iíve been a judge at the Iron Bartender, often to my chagrin and the audienceís delight. This year The Reverend decided not to organize the thing (too expensive, and he was tired of losing) so he helped organize a Celebrity Roast Ė of himself. I got all done up in my tux and opened with a few nervous zingers (Iím better behind a crowd than in front) and giggled along as his other friends and acquaintances tore him a new one. His rebuttal was spirited, but it was seven against one so he didnít stand much of a chance.

Award for Most Absurd Shoes goes to this pair of portable trampolines.

The first ever Mr. Fantasm pageant took place somewhere in there. I donít understand why it wasnít run back-to-back with Ms. Fantasm, but it did provide some early afternoon entertainment. Fortunately for you, few of my photos turned out worth a damn. Suffice it to say, the rumors about what some men donít wear under their kilts were confirmed. Also worth mentioning Ė you donít have to be male to compete in Mr. Fantasm, though it does help if you have a penis. It doesnít have to be yours, just bring one alongÖ

The hypnotist Fonteneau did some pretty amazing things with random members of the audience, most of it of an adult and sexual nature. The man puts on a heck of a show and I highly recommend seeing him if you get a chance. I got an email from him a couple of days later:

"My current website ( was judged the lamest site in america by my friends, family, and fans. My new site ( is currently in disarray and should be up fully in a short time. It will have a seperate "adult" area."

An event Iím regularly called on to aid is the Ms. Fantasm pageant. After years of heckling such events from the back row Iím a favorite target for those who need a ďvolunteer.Ē This year one of the contestants needed a sucker so I got pulled on stage to be the body in ďSouthern body shots,Ē a ritual involving potato salad and fried chicken. I wouldnít complain if I hadnít had to wash the potato salad out of the new outfit I had put on only moments before.

I was drafted again moments after walking back into the room, this time to wield a riding crop as a contestant needed someone to burst her bubble. Her bubble wrap costume, that is.

Steve is holding the microphone close so the audience could hear the bubbles being popped, though it's tough to tell in this shot. Even the shadow on the back wall looks perverse.

A few of the other contestants for Ms. Fantasm.
The girl in the leather strappy thing won for her pony imitation.

Out in the con suite the body painting and photography continued non-stop. I like this photo because it looks like some kind of crime scene investigation.

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