Wednesday, February 09, 2005
It's Pattesia, Bitch.
Last night, I spoke to my friend Patty on the phone. Since she is one of the funniest people I know, I asked her if she had read my blog yet, as I was interested in her opinion, etc.
She replied: "Um, yeah. You make me sound like a fucking lunatic, bitch."
In my entry about my friendster testimonials, I chose one of the three I've written for Patty to include in my greatest hits. It was the shortest (and, OK, the most lurid) one that was a variation of a riff I once did with Patty regarding the oddest scene in a very odd film by Kathryn Bigalow called "Strange Days". In this particular scene, Juliette Lewis, after singing a set of PJ Harvey songs(!) to a fairly large crowd, walks offstage to her dressing room. JL is seriously sweaty, even though she is only wearing a 12x12 inch square of chain mail. As she enters her dressing room's bathroom, she removes the square of chain mail and inexplicably starts to wash her titties, even though she has make-up running all down her face and her hair looks as if it's been styled with an entire vat of vaseline.
Patty and I were howling about the scene and the idea that she was on the road with JL, helping her perform the crazy titty-wash. Out of this context, I realize now, it makes little sense. Hey, it could make even less sense with the explanation I just gave.
Anyway, back to the real story at hand. Here is, uncut, a more accurate (and less insane) picture of Patty:
Most people don't know this about Patty: in the very early 1990s, she was a muse to the artist formerly known as (now currently back to being known as) Prince. Prince tried to dub Patty "Chysanthemum Colitis" - but she honorably and sanely refused. "It's Pattesia, bitch!" was Patty's reply.
In a flurry of James Brown drum loops, spandex, and lucite heels, Pattesia was poised to be the next Apollonia, until one fateful night at a Minneapolis karaoke bar. She was kickin' it root down with the Paisley Prince - singing a lot of Stevie Nicks, Heart and Pointer Sisters hits. When Prince asked to have the microphone back from Pattesia to sing his own "Raspberry Beret", she once again, honorably refused.
"This is my show, bitch!!" Pattesia screamed. The crowd went wild. Pattesia then tore into her own gay-club-remix of a different version of Prince's song called "Ras-Pattesia Beret." To this day, it's rumored, the song now makes Prince weep for what could have been, but what never was.
Prince, humbled before his own people, on his own turf, then fled to a Cincinnati strip mall to take refuge in the flailing dance party USA arms of the then unknown Tara Patrick, an underage dancer who would later emerge from behind the Paisley Park palace walls as "Carmen Electra."