My apologies, TP readers. My server was down yesterday!!! But things are better today.

Sorry for being MIA for the past week! I had a friend in town from Miami visiting, and that pretty much occupied my whole existence since Thursday. Okay, I’m back.

Faithful readers, I’m pleased to announce some brand new, exciting changes for TabloidProdigy.com. It’s bigger and better than ever. Take some time to explore the new features in the beta mode site by clicking here. Tell me what you think!

Don’t ask me how I got this photo, just thank me. I spent my Saturday in another dimension known as Coney Island, and for those of you that’ve never been there, let’s just say it’s heaven to flea market and Conway shoppers alike–tacky, cheap and kitschy through and through.  While strolling on the boardwalk, I was enchanted by this beautiful, bearded woman dancing to high energy techno music. I numbered the photo above, so allow me to explain:

1. A delicate lady in a Mexican dress, pearls, sailor hat and green beard danced gracefully with her rainbow-dyed pet dog and parrot.

2. A possible meth–or–crack head Vogued.

3. A man collected money from onlookers. Believe me, they were worth every penny.

4. Look very carefully. That’s an elbow of a man who was also Voguing, only his moves were of a different variety. Like a Madonna back up dancer–or a Paris is Burning legendary ball queen–it was like a lesson straight out of Miss J and Benny Ninja’s modeling class. (Tyra face) FIERCE.

5. Yup, that parrot is real.

College Humor should do more musicals!!! This was awesome. And on a semi un/related note, I just saw West Side Story on Broadway a few weeks ago. It was amazing! If you’re in NYC, go see it. If you’re poor like me or Dustin Diamond, you can get standing room tickets for $26–a major deal compared to the ass-raping prices they charge.

Feeling nostalgic about all things Michael Jackson, I decided to take advantage of living in NYC and go catch the stage revival of The Wiz–an all-black cast version of The Wizard of Oz. Michael Jackson starred as the Scarecrow in the 1978 film version alongside Diana Ross as Dorothy. This particular revival starred Ashanti as Dorothy and Tichina Arnold (of Martin and Everybody Hates Chris fame) as the Wicked Witch of the West. I didn’t realize that Michael Jackson’s signature song from the film, You Can’t Win (above), wasn’t originally a part of the Broadway production–and thus, omitted from the stage production. Needless to say, I’m a bit upset I didn’t get to hear it. You’d think they would add it in, right? Maybe even as an encore song or something. Hmph.

I was majorly impressed with Tichina Arnold’s performance–she was the crowd favorite. Here’s a funny scene from Martin, when Tichina Arnold dresses as Patti LaBelle and sings Home from The Wiz as Tisha Campbell interrupts her with And I’m Telling You from Dreamgirls. Yeah, I know, the scene makes no sense, but it’s funny. Oh, and Notorious B.I.G is in the background (how random):

And here’s Ashanti performing Home from The Wiz at a press preview. I’m not a major Ashanti fan, but the girl blew me away with her voice. She’s a great live singer:

So I went to a private party meant to swoon event planners and nightlife scribes at Larry Flint’s The Hustler Club on Monday in NYC, and I’d like to share a few lovely details about my adventure. First, I’d like to say hair extensions + fake tan + silicone + high heels = nirvana. I can’t believe how much I enjoyed the bevy of living plastic dolly beauties that worked the poles and floors. In between downing (free) Sapphire and tonics, I managed to chat up a few of the girls. In particular, a Thai ladyboy-looking beauty with awesome concrete tits who shared some of the club’s prices and secrets of the trade:

• It’s $20 for a lap dance, which lasts the duration of a song.

• $200 for a private room at 30 minutes, plus the cost of the room. Rooms start at $150 and go up.

• Most girls at the club easily clear $2000/night.

• Stripper skin = boy repellent. Apparently, strippers spray their bodies with concoctions of Bath and Body Works spray, glitter, ant & flea pesticide, spray tan and baby oil. Rule of thumb: never lick a stripper. It’s the equivalent of that fire-flavored fingernail polish that moms use to keep kids from biting their nails.