SEXY STRAWBERRIES, INDEED.

Como estas, little wontons! How has YOUR week been? I'm in the midst of recording two brand-y new songs, planning music videos, endless writing, and just everyday world domination stuff vis a vis my "YEAR OF THE GEISHA" takeover. Not too babby (bad + shabby) for a quirky, middle-aged underdog with killer biceps. (God, I love saying that ... waaaaaay too much. Gotta stop.)

On to bigger and crazier news. There's something I discovered and seriously thought you all should know. It's not hella dope like Bob Marley's month-long birthday celebration or Die Antwoord and I leading parallel lives. Nope. Nothing beyond amazing like that.

Here goes: hold onto y'er tight little topknots kids because today, February 27, is ... National Strawberry Day. Yup. (Stop laughing. Please.) Who comes up with this crap? Beats me, but when it popped up I couldn't resist Googling "sexy strawberries" just for the hell of it. Say what?

IMO, anything can be sexy, as immortalized in College Humor's "Girls's Costume Warehouse" video (pronounced "girls-iz"), where Joeybaggadonuts hawks sexy mustard, sexy Jesus, and sexy mental patient costumes in Hackensack, New Jersey ... and you thought I was one chopstick short of a pair. You'll wet your pants watching, especially if you've ever known guys like that. (I have.) It never gets old -- that son of a bitch cracks me up every time. Yes, it's been more than once. He's hilarious. Jeez.

Back to the berry. Many of the image results screamed "9-1/2 Weeks" or "Fifty Shades of Grey" -- as expected. (Bust out the Cool Whip and we all know what's coming next. Wink, wink.) Alarmingly though, there were a few pics that proved, without batting either of my asymmetrical eyes, some people are simply SICK TWISTED FREAKS ... and to think strawberries are one of my most beloved fruits. Kink is one thing, but this is downright blasphemous. Have at it.

Drunken "straw-rgy." Really? 

Continuation of above. Anything looks good after too many vodka tonics.

The "Where's Waldo?" of strawberry pics. 

His great big berry's hiding in those briefs. Bring it on, grape boy.

WTF? Since when do strawberries look like Mr. Potato Head? 

See above for the "sexy mental patient" school of thought.

Proof I'm not the only one who thinks these things.

Dang ... Rihanna (not a strawberry) has some KICKASS SEO peeps on the payroll. 

At first glance, dried turds. A strawberry lover's dream. Yum.

Asian joke. On us. Again.

iPhone thongs. Another Asian joke, but who's counting?

Nothing sweet about this. More "Children of the Corn" than delicious fruit. 

(Please note the large KNIFE and strangely cocked head.) 

Speaking of cocked, the piece de resistance ...

Behold ... the BONERBERRY. That's right. Carole Cullen, a British housekeeper from Kent, England, picked an absolute treasure that "looked like a man's naughty bits." The mother of two admitted "it was a tad small" and wished it had grown bigger (we understand), but couldn't resist plucking the little pecker anyway. She promptly popped it in her, um, fridge for a charity raffle. (That's what she said.) Well played, Mrs. Cullen. Strawberry Fields will NEVER be the same. xo

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HAPPY NATIONAL MARGARITA DAY!

Upon awakening on the most hallowed of holidays--National Margarita Day--let's take a moment to honor the true meaning of this auspicious occasion. Hmmm. Actually, there's not much history to honor, according to the Huff Post -- and if they can't find a story explaining how the holiday came to be, I won't waste time trying to dig something up. There's just too damn much drinking to do ... and it's only noon.

FACT: we do know that both the U.S. and Mexico claim dibs on designing the luscious libation -- even though tequila is definitely a Mexican liquor invented after the Spanish conquest. In Mexico. Just sayin'. Here's what I think -- who gives a flying lime where it came from? As long as there are numerous salt-rimmed glasses in sight, I can deal. (See pic below.)

What's in the concoction everyone's clamoring to claim their own? Simple recipes include tequila, lime juice, grenadine, creme de cassis, ice and soda, but there are as many iterations as there are flavors. There are so many cool recipes to try, but personally, I haven't had one I didn't love--classic, mango, strawberry, watermelon--though a Caliente Kiss is next on the list. 

My fave? Well, they're kinda like children -- all totally sweet, fun to be around, and enrich the quality of your life without even knowing. So, so, so hard to pick one over the other. Just keep'em coming. (Preferably on the beach, served by a shirtless buff cabana boy. Double yum.) 

As people all over Los Angeles, and the entire country, start slurping away like there's no such thing as a weekly Margarita Monday (there is), I pose just one question: who's bitchin' enough to dream up the perfect Lady Geisha margarita? It has to be sweet (like me), sparkly (like me), and have a quirky twist (def like me). Talk amongst yourselves, rev those blenders, and invite me to come try it! I just may include you and your tres fab recipe in one of my upcoming books. (Probably yes. Wink, wink.)

So whether you enjoy'em classic, slushy, or via ice pop form, make sure to imbibe wholeheartedly -- and often. All day long. We're not only celebrating National Margarita Day, but America as a whole. I mean, what other country is fickle enough to deem an alcoholic drink worthy of national recognition after enforcing prohibition? Seems like we should really be gearing up for National 420 Day, no? xo

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#GoNinjaGo ...!

Imagine my delight upon discovering that one of today's trending hashtags was #GoNinjaGo. Nahhh, it can't be. Was the entire world finally jumping on the Die Antwoord bandwagon? SAY IT ISN'T SO! My momentary elation made me leap outta my Louboutins and, well, here we are. I'm okay, thanks.

I adore the futuristic South African rap-rave Zef crew and, believe it or not, we have oodles in common. (Regardless of whether they'd admit it AND excluding the blood-smeared photo above. How is it possible, you wonder? Just bust out the Beluga and see who has the winning drool. It's almost an exact reflection of myself.) What's even crazier is this next pic -- I LIKE MAKING EVIL FUNNY FACES TOO! Uncanny. 

Fronted by vocalists Yolandi Visser (it's actually Yo-Landi Vi$$er, for those of us in the know) and Ninja (her snarly boo/badass baby-daddy), Die Antwoord's a delicious anomaly, at least to this quirky middle-aged underdog. IMO, watching their videos is akin to experiencing a Jean-Michel Basquiat painting come to life -- or falling down the rabbit hole. You're simply fixated with the coolness of it all. 

This shot TOTALLY captures that Basquiat feel (art courtesy Roger Ballen), and here's the clincher. JMB used to deface the cafeteria walls during my years at School of Visual Arts -- while I'd watch in amazement! Almost too remarkable for words, right?

Speaking of artists, I also went to SVA with pop artist Keith Haring. (I know, those were some star-studded years. Not to mention Madonna used to pose in our figure drawing classes for quick cash.) Sometimes Keith and I would eat lunch together while tolerating another friend's insipid jokes -- he actually PIONEERED the same graphic style of graffiti art featured in "Enter the Ninja." DA may have Roger, but can't you envision Keith's crawling babies in MY music vids? (Okay, make that crawling diamonds or dollar signs.) Laugh away, but the similarity blows my mind.

Zef, according to Yolandi, "is a term associated with everyday people who are 'fancy' ... poor but rocking the gold with a unique style." Kinda like South African Gangnam Style or my very own GEISHA-NISTAS. Talk about tapping into collective genius. Don't they look pretty in gold? I, TOO, LOOK PRETTY IN GOLD! (And even sing about Harry Winston in my upcoming single.) Correct me if I'm crazy, but there could be some strange voodoo at work here. Just sayin'.

So exactly how DID I fall in love with their calculated insanity which rings so true to my own? During pre-production for GEISHA-MANIA!, I was introduced to their music video, "Baby's on Fire" and was instantly hooked. Like crack. 

Perhaps it's my punk rock/art school background. Or knowing musicians-performance artists like John Sex and Wendy Wild. (Here's a fun fact: Wendy used to cut my hair in their East Village apartment.) I always wondered how I, a little GEISHA-NISTA from the Bronx, could translate my own twisted sense of humor into performance art. (Hence, GEISHA-MANIA!) And get this ... Yolandi has a pink bedroom in her vid JUST LIKE I DID IN MINE! Kawinkydink? I think not.

On her Facebook page, Yolandi's personal backstory reads much like my own. She came from nothing, but grew up knowing that she never wanted to play by society's rules. Sound familiar? Mmm-hmm. It gets even better -- Yolandi admits she has a strange voice and was completely "green" when she entered the music industry. Wowsa is right. 

It may be hard to wrap your head around how alike we are, but this last picture captures the indisputable essence of Die Antwoord's and Lady Geisha's parallel lives. Here Yolandi has Ninja. In GEISHA-MANIA! I had my very own geisha gal pals. Yolandi's wearing a bustier, I wore a bustier. They have a silver glitter star, and well, I AM A STAR. Is that enough, or do I have to spell it out for you people? Identical triplets if there ever was. xo

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YOU'RE TOO SEXY FOR YOURSELF!

Listen to Dita my darlings ... don’t let the Eeyores, peasants, or trolls make you feel anything less than fabulous. It's a state of mind. Hold onto it with all you've got 'cuz you're all you have. Allowing miserable naysayers to screw with your head to make themselves feel better is your fault, capeesh? Put on your big girl panties and simply don't let it affect you. Besides, who has time for bad juju? 

I'm the perfect example of how age, shape, or size doesn’t matter. My tagline reads "quirky, middle-aged underdog with killer biceps" -- not conventionally beautiful, young, or a traditional singer. (If anything, I'm self-aware. And hell, I have great guns.) People scratch their heads at what I’m doing. They just don't get it, but I’ll smoke a wasabi bong before THAT stops me. (Plus, my skin's Bronx-bred tough, so have at it bitches.) I've already paid my dues and played by the rules. Now it's time to break a few. There’s no age limit on having fun … I just did it in a sushi bikini. 

So don those proverbial sushi bikinis chicas, and throw caution to gravity, curves, or a number -- it’s what you feel inside that matters. God knows I FEEL 20 so, hypothetically, I AM acting my age. Confucius say, "When you believe in yourself, music videos get made." (Bet'cha thought he'd go the warm 'n' fuzzy "the-rest-of-the-universe-will-too" route. Duh.)

Stay tuned for GEISHA-NISTA-GO-GO™ this spring ... I'm collaborating with one hella dope rap artist, and you will NOT believe how bitchin' we are.

BTW, DON'T FORGET TO BE LIKE A PITBULL WITH A STEAK WHEN IT COMES TO FOLLOWING YOUR DREAMS ... THERE ARE NO DO-OVERS! xo

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ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE ... AND A CAMERA!

How fitting I'd come across this pic the day after Valentine's Day ... our holiday of love. Seems this beyond adorbs couple got married before cameras were an option. I shall call them Cute 1 and Cute 2. Kinda like Dr. Suess.

Words can't express how much I truly love them, with their beautiful little intricately lined faces and knotty caramel canes all dressed up. Recapturing a moment. Reflecting a lifetime. So beautiful I could cry. (It never takes much.)

Notice the contrast between her white veil and his shirt, her cream gown and his jacket -- it's BRILLIANT. The brick wall? Symbolic. Love, love, love the joy on his face. I can't take it. Her winsome expression is just the absolute BEST. Can someone bring them over to dinner for me? They're too friggin' fabulous.

Now... you were saying how what your V-day was? If it wasn't all Hallmark cards 'n' street vendor roses, just look at Cute 1 and Cute 2. Love knows no age. Simply focus on your own happiness and love will find you. Relationships are the icing, NOT the cake. You gotta make your own damn cake. So fall in love with YOU, buy some proverbial eggs, and start baking.

Plus, all the cheap chocolate and tacky, sappy bears are on sale today, making them even cheaper for the puppet hordes that buy into this commercial crap. Not really the kind of emotion I'm looking for. Stores will be absolutely ransacked, like mini tornadoes tore through'em. Heh, heh, heh. (Of course, the kind of love connection I'm looking for is found at Tiffany's. They NEVER have sales like that so I'm good. Thank you.)

BTW, you know I crack myself up, sooo ... if you wanna smile, laugh, or perhaps chortle tea out your nose, check out my new GEISHA-MANIA! website and GEISHA GEAR shop. You'll love it.  xo

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HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!

I'm just full of LOVE today and so, so, so thankful for all those in my life that make me feel loved, cherished, and adored. I'm talking family, friends, and those whose words or smiles always turn my day around. Completely. THAT, my little wontons, is what today (and pretty much every other day) is all about. Not to mention the random marriage proposals. They're quite lovely too ... and funny as hell. Keep'em coming -- they totally put a smirk across my face. You guys crack me up. No really.

Aside from all the warm 'n' fuzzies, diamonds don't hurt either. Especially anything over three carats. Set in platinum. A Tiffany blue box works just fine. Can you feel the love tonight? Oh yeah, babydoll, give me one of those and you definitely will. Or shoes. Shoes are the next best Valentine's Day gift. (Not a fan of chocolate and flowers die.) Can you make'em Louboutin? Size 7 please. Come to think of it, a trip to Fiji would be fun. Especially in the dead of winter. I love wearing bikinis in winter. Okay, diamonds, shoes, and a trip. Got that?

Back to the serious stuff -- not that diamonds and Louboutins and trips aren't serious stuff. Oh my. But here's the thing ... women just want to feel loved unconditionally. If you're the type of guy who needs to prove it by dropping a wad, so be it. I'm all for that -- you have my approval.  On the other hand, it's the spontaneous, everyday gestures that truly win her heart. Dancing when there's no music, holding hands, kissing in a crowd. Why not tell her that you've never felt so loved by anyone in your life and how thankful you are to have HER? Okay, I'm getting nuts. Stick with the swag. xo

Need a last-minute gift? Shop GEISHA GEAR for all your Valentines! xo

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IT'S NOT UNUSUAL? HELL, YEAH IT IS.

Tom Jones, pre-Beefcake days, shirt slightly open

Vegas icon Tom Jones is that annoying little Welsh voice caught between my half-carat Harry Winston studs today. (Not like I have other old-guy Welsh voices stuck in my head ever -- that would just be creepy, ok?) But when said song is "It's Not Unusual" 72 hours before Valentine's Day, just harpoon my heart already. Saccharin is NOT my flavor of choice, for the clueless few that couldn't tell.

Oompa-Loompa Tom at his "Beefcake-iest Best"

Granted, I actually think "It's Not Unusual" would make one helluva cover -- Lady Geisha-style, of course. Imagine my signature scream-laugh. Here's the catch. Even though I'm fond of that song (and the 1960s as a whole), I'm deathly allergic to furry man boobs peeking out from shirts open to the waist, snapping to my own music, and grown men growling like cartoon chia pets. Poor Tom. Please someone, ANYONE, for the love of all that's sane and (more importantly) chic, make it f*g stop. Don't even get me started on "What's New Pussycat?" ... yes, Virginia, there IS a silver lining.

Screw the shirt. Banana hammock vs. sushi bikini. 

Who am I to judge?

Being that I'm quite the giver and the term earworm is a calque (borrowed phrase) from the German "Ohrwum" (not that I'm blaming my fellow Krauts for Tom's takeover), here's a little pre-Valentine's gift. Just for you. Have at it ... and please take note of Tom's famous pelvic jump thrust at :53. It's hilarious. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. -- LG xo

It's Not Unusual

BTW, little wontons ... don't forget to check out my brand-y new website and GEISHA-MANIA! shop for cool Valentine's Day GEISHA GEAR! xo

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GET Y’ER GEISHA GEAR HERE! And Happy Sunday! xo

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WHAT DO A GEISHA-NISTA™ FROM THE BRONX AND BOB MARLEY HAVE IN COMMON?

Fitting as yesterday would have been his 69th birthday, I came across a "10-things-you-didn't-know-about" Bob Marley story that blew my tight little topknot ten feet high. The similarities between "Tuff Gong" (that would be Bob) and this bling-lovin' "Geishanista" (that would be me) are beyond AMAZEBALLS. Of course, I had to share.

Let's get right down to it — he loves reggae, I love reggae. Yup. I'd even bake a red, yellow, and green-striped cake in honor of the endless hours spent listening to "Rastaman Vibration" back in the day, but we all know that could end badly ... and I'm not talkin' funny brownies. Nothin' says lovin' like hemp-glazed goodies, but ovens are bastions of pure Bavarian evil at its Black Forest best. Think Hansel and Gretel. (See German reference below.)

Aside from both of us being singer/songwriters with measurable disdain for "The Man," what could Bob and I possibly have in common? Jump aboard the Zion Train and compare the deets ... simply put, you'll be bowled over. (No pun intended.)

BOB MARLEY:
Iconic Rastafarian reggae superstar. Jamaican legend. Philanthropist. Dad.

LADY GEISHA:
Fabulous, quirky underdog with killer biceps. Comedic rapper. Label whore. Mom.

So far, crazy, right? For starters, everyone knows what he was smokin', yet no one's quite sure what my deal is. Heh-heh. (A stretch, perhaps, but SUCH a kawinkydink.) Next in a long line of implausible parallels, he hated his birth name, Nesta Robert Marley. BINGO! I hate mine too. (Not tellin'.) Hence, why I answer to any and all of the following: Lady Geisha, Lady G, Lady G-lo (me an' Jenny are both from Bronx blocks), or LG. Or Yakeii Tiesha. Or Zoe Black. Or Zo-Zo, as a friend affectionately calls me. (Is there some sick subliminal Bozo reference there? Not quite sure, though you'll never catch me in an orange wig.)

Moving on to commonality number three ... Bob possessed the ability to read palms starting at age four. (Much to his mother's shock--and horror--when his predictions actually came true.) Moi? I have psychic dreams in which I telecommunicate with people. Sure as I'm one chopstick short of a pair, the very next day that dream plays out in real life. I kid you not. (There are witnesses.)

Both TG and I had childhood demons which made us even tougher. Bob was known by Kingston peeps as a "white boy"because he was bi-racial. (His dad, Norval Marley, was a Euro-Jamaican of British heritage.) Growing up in the Bronx, I was known as "twiggy legs" for having super skinny legs like Twiggy's. (The 1960's model.) Clearly it was due to my pasty "white girl" half-German, half-Irish descent. Uncanny, eh? That's what I said.

Here's another biggie. Bob, quite the ladies man, had one famous, albeit slightly overused, pick-up line. "Yuh wan have ma baby?" charmed countless women right out of their tams. (Evidently it worked. He has 11 confirmed children, three with wife Rita.) Though I wouldn't exactly call it a "pick-up line," one of MY all-time favorites is "So you've heard of me?" after strange men say my name upon meeting. Boy, the stories I could tell. (One confirmed child.)

Having grown up in poverty, Bob was uber-generous once he attained success, and supported many less fortunate. Let's just say I, too, grew up appreciating every damn dime. To that point, I'm currently working on geisha-tastic projects that will enable me to contribute to various charities, specifically those supporting single parents, women, gay/lesbian rights, animals, and the creative arts. What the ...? We could've been twins. Just sayin'.

Lastly, one of Bob's most famous quotes is "Love the life you live. Live the life you love." Well, SHUT UP -- THAT'S MY FAVE QUOTE EVER! Can you believe it? Talk about six degrees of separation. It's like we had the same brain.

During my punk-rock-girl-pack days at Irving Plaza's reggae nights in NYC, I had no clue Bob and I were such simpatico souls. His lyrics lingered in my strangely shaven head over and over and over -- like smoke circles. (Another coincidence? I think not.)  The signs were all there, but I'd been blinded by mohawks in a sea of dreads.

If anyone ever told me how much we had in common, I'd never have left Montego Bay during a spring break vacay with a wacked-out Sicilian BF. F*ck that maan, I could've partied with BOB and, IMO, we could've made beautiful music together. Could you see me as a Wailer?  No, really. (Mwahahaha.)

Luckily, I can still relive those days via several very well-worn cassette tapes that survived the decades since. It's easy breezy to kick back, play the songs, and light one up (an aroma therapy candle, that is ... what were YOU thinking?), yet somehow this newfound knowledge of our special connection presents me with a higher responsibility to honor this talented man. To honor his music. To honor the political angst. To honor "US."

As I'm set to record two new songs this month, maybe, just maybe, I'll mull over a potential third. Now, and this could be a stretch, is anyone up for "GANJA-MANIA"? ('Cuz we know damn well "Everybody's doin' it, everybody's doin' it!")

TGIF, BITCHES!
xo

Don't forget to check out my new website and online store to shop for Valentine's Day gifts ... there's GEISHA GEAR FOR ALL!

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IT'S LIVE!!!

http://geisha-mania.com/

Boys, bling, fashion & FUN! They said it couldn't be done. HAH! Well, Lady Geisha (that's me!) and my brand-new website prove it can. Rome wasn't built in a day, so pipe down and check out the latest news on the little musically silly sideshow that could. And did. And would. And should. Oy.

BTW, here's a delicious little tidbit to help you sleep at night. I'm BACK IN THE STUDIO THIS MONTH, makin' music, singin' songs, and laughing my size 0 ass off. (What can I say? Size 2 sounded better in the song.) That's right, it never ends. Never. 

Just wait'll you see which rap artist I'm collaborating with for my next musical funfest -- as if your delicate eyes and ears had had enough. Heh, heh, heh. Talk about hella hot ... sushi bikinis were only the beginning. 

And speaking of sushi bikinis, the GEISHA-MANIA! Sing-along Video is being re-released this spring! Yup, I kid you not. (As if you needed another reason to never look at hot tubs the same way.)

Happy Hump Day, grab some drinkie-poos at Happy Hour, watch GEISHA-MANIA! all over again, and whatever you do, stay happy bitches ...  stay tuned for THE YEAR OF THE GEISHA!  xoxo

http://geisha-mania.com/

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