There couldn’t have been a gayer week. First there was our own Glam Cham at RED SoHo, which I ditched to go to the Gay and Lesbian Film Fest. But I did grab some yummy canapés first. Every time we host a Glam Cham, someone from ad sales or marketing ends up outside the venue clutching liquor bottles. I’m surprised that our company hasn’t sent a memo labeled, “Attention to all ad sales and marketing staff—Glam Cham is a networking event, NOT a Roman orgy.” Of course I had regrettably left early and failed to witness the hot mess at the end this time, which featured girls from Kaiyotes gyrating on the bar, because I was at Broadway Cinematheque for the film fest. We decided to indulge and watch two gay films (“Shank” and “The Houseboy”) one right after the other. Not too much gay for one night—after all, I usually just watch STRAIGHT films during the other eleven months at the cinema.

By Thursday, a select group of friends were collectively going nuts about Mika. At HiTec, Michael Holbrook Penniman Jr. astounded us with his mercurial, high-octane performance. Last time he came, he didn’t do quite so well live (to be fair, his songs aren’t the easiest to perform, what with that outrageous octave range), but he’s clearly been given voice lessons in the meantime and has improved tremendously.

As a nod to Hong Kong, and going along in the vein of Mika’s love for cute Muppet-like creatures, Cantonese lions came out and danced with him. Come to think of it, our auspiciously adorable southern lion does resemble a Jim Henson creation, but much more flamboyant. The show was vital catharsis. Story of his life. Story of mine, I guess. At the end, because we knew all the marvelous lyrics and were screaming like KGV students (well at least Alison and I), and had danced and cried tears of pure emo, we were utterly spent—a total physical, mental and emotional workout.

Saturday, I was on the panel of judges for the first, historical Mr. Gay HK at the LKF (Beer) Bar. It was a most smooth production, with a sense of event to it. I was thoroughly impressed. Radio host Brian Leung and nightlife doyenne Collette Koo, slick and silver-tongued, acted as the MCs. The boys enjoyed the limelight as well. My probing question to first runner-up Ziggy Bautista was, “Who do you see when you look in the mirror?” Ziggy had to stall by thanking the organizers and the whole universe, a most excellent stalling. “Just answer my fucking question,” I prompted him. “I see an accomplishment...” he replied. 

In the end, Rick Twombley won. I think it was the public vote that swayed the results. I believe a whole theme park voted for him. Great. Now we’re sending an American representing Hong Kong to Oslo for Mr. Gay World next February. I guess he can stick to the story that he’s representing the ethnic diversity of our city. Rick, I hope you become an expert on Hong Kong—it’s more than just Lantau, Volume and Propaganda.

The unofficial after party was Ben’s birthday at Watermark, transformed into the magical land of Willy Wonka, with slides, candy and strippers. And yes, gogo-boys from Tokyo. I escorted the delightful Mr. Gay Philippines David Bosley and producer Dennis over to Pier 7, just in time to witness my friends Victor and B’s PHIERCE drag rendition of “Single Ladies.” I was surprised to find that it was an even bigger production than Mr. Gay HK. Oh well, Ben and Douglas have the money to throw a pretty wild party dripping with decadence. The invitations were “Golden Tickets.” I bumped into my all-powerful publisher there. “You can’t write about tonight.” He ordered. “OK, maybe obliquely.” Anyway, to protect the glitterati, the elegantsia and the stupendously gay rich who are used to moving under (or above) the radar of the common masses, I decided not to (plus I’ve ran of our space), so just use your sick, debauched imagination, dear readers.

Email me at jpong@asia-city.com.hk