Burlesque pride.

I enjoy the sensuality of the dance, the spirit of fun, and the sense of new life being breathed into erotic history. Had my grandfather ever see Gypsy Rose Lee perform? I also enjoy the sexual politics in knowing that empowered, joyful women are rekindling a sensual genre from the past. To my eye, it's good, healthy fun... not that I would also resist the chance to savor a luscious bum ensconced in period bloomers.

Last night's debauch brought me to Goodhandy's, the "pansexual playground," for a fun Pride-filled evening of classic burlesque. Shayne and I had seen Skin Tight Outta Sight last New Year's, but tonight's rebel burlesque performance definitely out-did what they offered the hungry public then. With them were The Saucy Tarts, whose can-can performances were a sight to behold.

Even before the show, the sight and vibe in the club reminded of the excellent cabaret scene in Better Than Chocolate. Men were definitely in the minority as the house was full of lesbian couples, their friends, and the occasional stunning t-girl.

The drag king swayed to Duke Ellington. The mohawked Catastrophe demonstrated a ominous ballet reminscent of The Handmaid's Tale. The Victorian lady who dislodged her hoop skirt. The tribute to the feather boa. The Saucy Tarts were exceptional, delivering sets that featured can-cans in the Old West, French revolution, and gypsy rover styles.

And then there was poor, smiling Justin. Our emcee insisted that Justin, a slender twink if there ever was one, come on stage and take a thick black dildo in his ass for everyone's enjoyment. Summoning a local celebrity in the audience, a female erotica writer and broadcaster, to do the sordid deed, Justin casually disrobed on stage, bent over with a wide smile, and the applause abounded as the lad got fucked before us.

Not bad for a Monday night.