So.. for those of you who are not familiar with the age old art of striptease, otherwise known as Burlesque, the name Satan’s Angel might not mean much to you…
I’m about to change that.
5 days of rhinestones, feather boas, swarovsky crystal, fringe and lace, twirling tassels, butts bouncing, shimmying and shaking, and you’re almost about ready to cry,
“Put your clothes on!”
I’m guessing backstage at a burlesque show is one of the few places you’ll hear the following things,
“I’ve put many things in ass but class? Nope, never that”
“Well, Bee was kind enough to swing by Chicago to pick up Michelle’s panther cage and drive it to Vegas for us…”
“Does anybody have any double-sided carpet tape?”
“I mean it, an ovary, an egg, a uterus, whatever you need, it’s yours”
“Are my butt pasties even?” all in the same night.
By the end of 120 hours of glitter, glam, burlesque, boylesque and all the rest, drag queens, drag kings, a sexy lobster, ladies growing peacock feathers out of their butts, snow white stripping and The Godfather morphing into a Dirty Martini, you pretty much think you’ve seen it all, but you haven’t, unless you’ve seen the spunkiest 66 year old sex symbol on earth stomp across the stage like Tina Turner, wearing Ozzy Ozbourne’s cape, pumping her fists and twirling her tassels, all with her breasts on fire.
Lady’s and Gentlemen I present to you, a legend in her own right,
P.S. Dew Lily, I totally meant what I said about the ovary/egg/uterus thing… whatever you need, it’s yours.