Valley of the Trolley Dollies

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
(London) Madame Tussaud’s, the iconic wax figure tourist trap known for cheeky representations of celebutantes, moulded new controversy yesterday by removing its Elton John and his partner husband David Furnish figures.

“We wanted to show that gay civil partnerships are not just for creators of showy millionaires,” said Wick Waxman, head of the Museum’s community relations team. “We’re moving Elton into a vampire tableau with costumes direct from the fangless flop Lestat. He’ll be posed as if he’s feeding off of Andrew Lloyd Weber.” There are no reports as to what is being done to refurnish Furnish. “Our patrons just aren’t that interested,” waxed Waxman.
Waxman says the new display is set to unveil this week, “as soon as we get the eyebrows right.”

VOTTD is pleased to present this exclusive photo preview.

So what’s a wedding reception without a little debauchery? There can be no denying we witnessed at least one piggy bottom getting pulled a week ago …

What’s with leaving the tail on? And did anybody eat the tail?

This was served only a few hours after a full 3-course meal. As I mentioned yesterday, the boys know how to throw a shin dig. Dancing was required just to work up an appetitie.

Speaking of eating, I don’t remember the cutting of the cake. Hmmm, I don’t think I blacked out (but then one wouldn’t necessarily know, would one?). I was probably having a conversation with Hannah, Jenna, and Erin … the three princesses of the evening who held court with me after I made the Dalek work. I was a god, I tell you (at least to the 6 year-old).

In any case, less we offend any vegetarians or PETA supporters, we’ll close with a sweeter image. The happily marzipanned couple …

Well, at long last, I’ve been given the keys to the kingdom and can begin guest blogging here at Valley of the Trolley Dollies. Or, as I like to call it … Depths of Digression.

Actually, the keys were delivered Wednesday night, but I was otherwise engaged and took most of yesterday to recuperate. During my foray into humpday fun, I was detained by tattooed keeper of the piece (sic) with a disarming smile. But now I’m back, fingers itching to type.

For those of you I haven’t met, I’m Bob, from Bob’s Your Uncle. I’m Derek’s blog daddy as it were. For those keeping score, that’s not the same kind of “daddy” that Officer McWho’dguesshesabottom repeatedly called me. But I too digress.

So anywho, D&D send their warmest regards (and in this weather, how could they be anything but?) from their secret hideaway. Its code name is Legoland, but I think that’s really just the occupational therapy part of their 28 days away. Oh, you knew already, right? It wasn’t really a wedding … it was a long overdue intervention.

And what an intervention it was. There are far too many details to recap in toto. And I hear that veterinary cosmetic dentistry is a bore.

Larry and I were probably the newest members of the enclave, and we were delighted to take part. For those of you who left before L got his second wind and decided to use a red wine bottle for a lip-synching microphone, well … consider yourself lucky.

“I thought he was so quiet,” said a bemused onlooker. The secret of my phantom spouse is out. Not. Quiet. At. All.

I’ve said many times that the only think I really miss about New York is my circle of friends … how they’ve intersected and grown over the dozen years we spent there. If in the next few years, I can create in London a quarter of the network that’s woven around D&D, my time here will have been a success. A gathering is only as good as the people who populate it, and as a relative outsider, I have to say that this was one of the most fun, welcoming, and lovely group of people I’ve had the pleasure of spending time with.

In all seriousness … the boys put together an amazing weekend. Their creativity, attention to detail, and generosity was only exceeded by the love of the people in the room. Sounds gushy, I know, but really … it was a perfect event. If I thought it wouldn’t send the Irishman over the edge, I’d suggest he’d rethink careers and become a wedding planner.

Because really, all one needs is … “Lights. Bubbles. Guestlist. Just do your best, darling.” Barring that, haivng a dancing dad who knows every word to the entire ABBA canon certainly helps. Oh, and finding ring bearers who are perhaps the most polite, charming, adorable, well-behaved children I’ve ever met doesn’t hurt either. Really, did their parents threaten them with death (or maybe no more Dr. Who)?

Actually, all the kids were lovely. At any similar event in my family, there would have been tears and bloodshed before appetizers.

I’ll post more details later (if I can remember them). Better yet, if you, the darling readers, have thoughts, memories, or anecdotes to share, just send them to me and I’ll post them. Sordid details of either of the couple’s pre-married past are welcome as well. But hurry, I won’t have access here forever, and I doubt Derek will be so generous with his bandwidth.

I know there were a million photos taken, and I’m sure that they’ll be posted when the boys return from rehab their “time away.”

I also know that they’d want to thank everyone for being a part of their happiness, whether in person or spirit (be it Pimms, vodka, champagne, or moonshine).

Now … send me some dirt!