I could go on and on in an unpaid fashion about how as of last week I’m a cat-less cat lady, or how I changed my last name on facebook to reflect my mental marriage to Jeremy Lin… Or I can link you to blogs on other websites about the same subjects.
I’m actually scheduled to be performing as “Fannie Wong, Former Miss Chinatown 2nd Runner Up” on the Xin Lu Bus tour (the film fest on wheels bus tour) as part of the VC Filmfest, so I will miss the experience of dozens of people watching my innards spew outwards.
I actually feel quite nervous about seeing the documentary. Because I was sobbing so much at times for the camera and you best bet that over the last few years, she caught a lot of crap on me! A couple of folks who have seen it already say I have nothing to worry about, but I may just let it be and keep my copy of the documentary locked up in the bowels of history. But I knew it was important to me to record my life and intentions in some way. Even, if that meant forever cockblocking myself.
However, you are welcome to go and tell me what you think!
My first show in Queens was yesterday! What an experience! There was a power outage at Queens Theater in the Park and the lights were out all over the park and they had to hold the show for 35 minutes. I had to choose to do the show with the emergency lights on in the theater (which eventually turned themselves off.) But I was so grateful that the show wasn’t cancelled that I put all my love out there for all 15 folks who took the train out to buttfreak Flushing to see me!
I ended the show with a bow, but also jumped into the audience and shook each person’s hand individually… because well… I could.
One more show on Sunday!
I can’t believe I’ve been living here in Williamsburg for so long. I don’t know how to describe what’s it’s like to live in a neighborhood that’s so trendy and where there are ridiculous trendy people walking around at all hours. It’s like Burningman, or Disneyland– at least in the sense of the immediate community moving around you. It’s like barely 70 degrees and people are out sunbathing in bikinis and shirtless because they crave the sun so much.
My beautiful and adoring mother emailed her concerns of my unhesitant usage of the word “dong” in my recent blogs. She wrote that using the word so publicly in cyberspace would reflect badly on our family (you know, whereas my writing for a porn mag would not).
I agree. The word “dong” is base, unrefined, unpoetic, and obvious. A UCLA English major like myself should know better than to pick such a sloppy word to describe man’s most complex section.
Therefore, I am vowing to no longer use the word “dong” in my blogs and am requesting that my readers help me pick out a more dignified synonym from the following list.
Man Tower Dashund Don Johnson Jojo Dancer Man Baton Minute Hand Thermometer de Flesh Man Tower Cock-a-Doodle-Doo Leg #3 Pointer Finger Bread and Meatballs AK 47 Van de Kamps Lonely Antenna Night Stick Peg Leg Papa Smurf Dodo Bird Unagi Mr. Potato Head
Please pick a synonym or make a suggestion. I implore you. For the future and the posterity of the Wong family name.
I’ll reveal and liberally use the winning synonym in an upcoming blog.