If I Had Steve: Diva Kalina’s Adam Lambert Does Cleveland RECAP FROM HEAVEN

Sometimes there are things in life that are so good, you are forced to come home and pour yourself a drink.

Which is exactly what I did tonight upon getting only three paragraphs deep into THE DIVA STEVE KALINA’S RECAP OF ADAM LAMBERT’S CLEVELAND SHOW. If Diva Kalina does not make you want to immediately piss yourself, or have you laughing so hard you might drop a tear or two, you have no soul/sense of humor and can suck it. This man writes fraking PROSE, dammit. And I am honored that even parts of it appear on my shit blog.

Plus, its encounters like these where I just wish with all my might that Adam Lambert could have more uh, encounters like these…Diva Kalina, if you wish to attend an Adam Lambert show in New England, you will come with me. And that, my friend, is an invitation.

If I Had You and without further adieu…

When I first heard of Adam Lambert’s summer tour, I was nearly devastated to find out that he would not be coming to Pittsburgh, PA, where I rule the streets with an iron fist.  I was told that I would either have to go to New Jersey, which brought the smell of Aqua Net and sewage to my nose immediately, or New York, which I simply did not have time to do while tending to matters of Church and State in Butler County, though the drag queens up there are of a stellar quality, and I’m studying them adamantly, as a breed, much like my acclaimed study of sparkle-cows:  “Cougars In The Mist”.   Then Cleveland, Ohio was added to the roster and my stomach lurched.  The thought of going to Ohio for anything other than marijuana related smoking devices made me quiver with both intrigue and revulsion.  Regardless, Cleveland I must go.  My initial impression of Ohio, and its inhabitants, could not have been more off-base – THESE BITCHES FROM OHIO KNOW HOW TO PARTY!  Sure, they might be visually simple, but they’re good people, and one hell of a good time!

All my TopIdol babies may remember my last adventure into GlamLand with my ample-busted, and morally vacant sidekick Libby, who unfortunately was absent from this journey to the nether regions of Ohio.  Well, not so much absent, as much as she told me to take my Adam Lambert concert and essentially ride it to the corner of Main and Wayne Street.  Player hater.  Immediately the next on deck to be my wingman in this mission of mercy was legendary Real Housewife of Butler County, and very dear friend, Gi.  Gi can only be described as a silver-tongued devil, her comedic powers at times are far greater than my own.  Gi, myself, and our little friend Sammi arrived in Cleveland at 4:00 PM Friday afternoon, after receiving the call that I would be meeting Adam Lambert again in Ohio a mere 24 hours prior.  I have never gotten my shit in one bag so fast in all my days – spray tans and mascara was running everywhere.  We were running slightly late as me and Gi both had been in hair and make-up since 9 that morning.  Sammi had barely stopped the car before I was barreling out the back with my teasing comb and hairspray tucked under my arm, running for the bar across the street.  The first one I saw, I believe called “Star” sounded gay, but was closed.  I looked up and down the streets frantically, tears welling in my eyes.  WAS THIS STRANGE PLACE A DRY TOWN?  Like UTAH??  Luckily, “Otto’s” right next to the Allen Theatre was open, full of cougars, and the booze was a-flowin’!

Like in Pittsburgh last year for the Idol concert, pandemonium ensued when I entered the bar.  One coug, who’s Botox made her age deceiving (the only way to tell would be to cut her open and count her rings, like a maple tree), approached us immediately and asked me to please speak to her and her friend.  I decided after my mixed reviews on TopIdol of my Pittsburgh performance, I had better be kind to the cougs this time around, as they could form a pack and turn on me.  I ended up really enjoying these cougs-magoos, as they bought me several rounds of shots and confessed that they may be in love with me.  After posing for several more pictures outside with full-out young sparkle cows, most clad in tu-tus with their barely developed cleaving bearing crude renditions of Adam Lambert’s tattoos drawn in Sharpie…or perhaps branded on by ranch-hands.  They were all very nervous.  I decided I had better not press my luck pretending to be Adam Lambert’s lover this time, and the cougs did not mind.  They just felt I was the closest they would get to Adam Lambert and they were happier than pigs in shit just to be photographed with me and talk with me.  My friends may have gotten slightly irritated with all the chaos I was causing, but I actually enjoyed the Cleveland Cougs, they liked to drink and while still Adam Lambert nut cases, and clearly the soldiers to the Fuhr of GlamNation, they weren’t taking anything all that seriously.

Gi and I got our backstage passes from the two hilarious gentlemen at the box office, who assumed I was Adam Lambert and told me no I.D. was necessary, and we got in line with only about 8 other mildly terrifying people from Cleveland who had scored backstage passes.  Clearly you had to know, or blow, someone to get backstage…unlike the cattle call that was at American Idol.  On a side note, later on in the show I reconnected with a few of the slim-pickin’s that went backstage with us, and to my delight they were all naked wasted.  At this point, I was naked wasted, from all the free libations my now loyal allegiance of fans purchased for me.

So, swaying and slurring slightly, with a cryptic birthday message scrolled on a cocktail napkin to give to Adam, from a large sparkle cow, tucked down the collar of my v-neck, we were escorted down a catacomb of hallways in the basement of the Theatre.  Down the hall where the keep Adam Lambert, we were greeted by the smell of what seemed to be 100 Stouffers T.V. dinners microwaved at once, or perhaps the local Catholic Church on perogie Sunday.  Either way, my baby Adam Lambert is clearly cutting corners not only at the venues but in his catering costs as well.  The individual leading us on down into the Labyrinth was a representative from RCA named Andy, who was delightfully creepy in that “if one candle’s lit in the window it’s safe to come in” kinda way.  Andy was accompanied by a security guard with one arm who I lovingly referred to as Colonel Sanders the whole evening.  Clearly, 19E was also consolidating on security as well, considering you couldn’t fart in the wind without security pistol-whipping you at the Idols Live tour last year.  We entered into a room lined with lockers and low orange leather sofas from 1970-who-knows-what.  We sat down and I began to mouth-off to the local radio host, for not only picking two drunk skags to win an interview, when their most promising question was “have you ever rode on a Harley?” and for sucking up all the air-conditioning with his mouth-breathing.

Then in walked Adam Lambert, accompanied by his brother.

He just sauntered in, said “hey everyone” and kind of stood in the middle of the room.  I acted as though a peasant had just entered the room in order to counter-act the sparkle cow next to me having a conniption.  Even though I am not, I wanted Adam to think I’m a real person.  Gi leaned over and whispered, “he is so small!”.  She was right.  He has dropped weight.  He was casually dressed in a tye-dye t-shirt, black jeans, and flip-flops with his little glitter-God toes painted black, and a hat on backwards, covering his new Rosie O’Donnell circa ‘05 style hair cut.  The nervous Sparkle and her boyfriend approached him first, had his Rolling Stone signed and then scurried out of the room.  The large radio host, who had gotten quite the kick out of me and Gi, well a kick out of me and hitting on Gi, demanded we come to Adam Lambert next.  I turned my head for 1 millisecond to ask Gi if she wanted me to walk up to Glambert with her, but her crazy ass was off the couch and already exchanging words with Adam Lambert.  I could not hear exactly what was being said as I was riding real low and dirty in that leather couch and could not seem to get my fat Dego ass out of it, but it went something like this:

Gi: “Honey, I just want to tell you, you are everything’

Adam Lambert: “Thank you, nice to meet you, you have gorgeous eyes.”

Gi: “Oh honey, look in the mirror!”

At this point, both Gi and Adam Lambert both noticed that I was having evident trouble getting up out of this damn chair.  I was so pregnant with beer baby that I could not get up.  Gi made a move to help me, as Adam Lambert stared at me with blatant concern dispelled all over his gay little face…like maybe Gi had brought her handicapped lesbian sister to this meet and greet.  As Gi reached out for me, I finally got out of the couch and approached Adam.  He recognized me.  Fuck.  The following situation unfolded.

Adam Lambert:  “And how are YOU doing??”

Diva Kalina:  “I’m good how are you?  Here, let me get on this side of you, hot ass”

Adam Lambert: ::Laughs::

Gi was already positioned for Adam’s brother to take a photograph.  We were given specific instructions that we could not take our own photos, Neil would snap ONE picture and only one autograph.

Diva Kalina:  ::Pointing to Adam Lambert:: “Gi, look at this sharp-ass son of a bitch!”

Gi:  “He is SHARP AS HEEEEEEEEELL”

Adam Lambert:  ::Laughs hysterically::” SHARP!”

At this point Adam’s brother takes one photo of me, Gi, and Glambert.  Having been raised with poise grace, Gi and I both took stance with hands on hips and popped our legs into two well-formed cheesecake stances with Glambert’s arms around us.  This made Adam Lambert’s brother, Neil, about piss himself.

Neil Lambert: “Oh wait, hold on, I gotta get those legs!”

Gi: ::As we are repositioning ourselves::  “Good call – I don’t approve COME ON HONIES – YOU. BETTER. WORK.”

Adam Lambert:  ::trying to smile and laughing hysterically through clenched teeth::

The photo appears as though I’m dry humping his leg, which I was.  Let’s face it though my babies, I’d be drying humping SOMEONE’S leg on a Friday night – I’m thrilled it was Adam Lambert’s.  As we’re in pose,  I turned my head and slightly to Adam Lambert’s ear and asked:

“Will you sign my tramp stamp?”

Adam Lambert:  “Sure!”

At this point Gi and I had well exceeded our one autograph quota, as well as our one photograph quota but I lifted up my shirt, went skin to the wind right in front of Glambert, and he signed my lower…lower…back, not to be out done by my girl Libby.  The minute I bent over Neil screamed:

“OH I GOTTA GET THIS – THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING!”  and snapped our THIRD pic of the night.

Upon completion of my Glambert tattoo Gi told him that she may have to start smoking cigs (I would like her to smoke Cimarrons or Benson & Hedges) after meeting him, and I shouted “OH GOD GI PUT A CONDOM ON!”  Adam laughed some more and I promptly flicked my hair, and staged a walk out, fanning myself with the autograph I had him sign for Sammi the whole way out the door.  It was magical.  I felt as though Gi and I had just eaten the last pharmaceutical Quaaludes in America.  Despite rumors of “Diva-esque” behavior, Adam Lambert is, at least to those people like me and Gi, who KEEP IT REAL (HINT HINT CRAZED COUGS), really sweet, has a sense of humor, yes, he is STUNNING in person.  Adam may not be totally aware but by signing my upper-ass…he is now betrothed to the Baroness of Butler, the Countess of the County : DIVA KALINA….my attorney’s working through the legalities.

Sammi was already seated when we got out of the meet and greet and I posed for more photographs with fans, and the lady ushers, who are so old they are molting.  Allison opened the show, and she sounded kind of like an old skank waitress at a Tim Horton’s, a bag of hot air.  I’m not a fan of Allison, and as you may recall from my last recap, she is not a fan of Diva Kalina’s after she had to tend to the crying fantard girl in Pittsburgh.  Now, the photos were being taken of me, then I would turn and they would take it of my new Glambert tramp-stamp.  If the people of Cleveland don’t know Diva Kalina’s face after Friday night, they certainly know my ass.   I took Allison’s set as a chance to go to the smoking deck and do MY meet and greet.  I had forgotten my credit card and the people of Cleveland were very generous in exchanging photos with me for 16 ounce Labatt Blue Lites (the only beer offered at this venue – PARTY FOUL!)

Then some British chick took the stage, I think her name was Ornamental, and I was still out hustling for beer, while my friends were in their seats.

Finally 2 hours later, Adam Lambert took the stage, dressed in a purple top hat and cape number.  He opened with a song I did not recognize for some reason, it may have been a cover and launched into “Down The Rabbit Hole” which sounded incredible, hard and raw.  He did practically every song from For Your Entertainment with gusto.  His version of “Soaked” was operatic and really showed off his musical theater background.  He took a stool for “Whataya Want From Me” for a slower, stripped down version of the song.  My favorite number of the night was by far “Strut” in which he did a dance routine with a cane, with his gender-bending dancers (who, THANK GOD, were far more polished than performances I have seen from over-seas, though still one chromosome off from having vaginas.)  Adam actually moves very well on stage.  He even threw in some American Idol performances,” Ring of Fire” (one of DIVA’s favorite numbers from the last season of American Idol that had any promise), and his closer, a more up-tempo “Mad World”  The acoustics in the Allen Theater were great, the show was highly entertaining Adam Lambert’s voice was as primed and lubed up like me trying to score a free room at the Double Tree, with multiple costume changes, dance routines, and lights that could send you into a seizure.  Even if you are not a fan…GO SEE THIS SHOW!

Back in Butler the next day, at the Bon-Ton Clinique counter, Gi and I looked at each other and thought “OUR LIVES REALLY BLOW RIGHT NOW – we were just rubbing elbows with Adam Lambert and now we’re at the mother fucking BON-TON!”  Gi and I might leave our lives behind and become groupies.  Not fantard groupies either…groupies who put out with no discretion.

I can honestly say two things : Yes, Adam Lambert deserves all the praise and attention he gets – he is a rock ‘n roll star in a time when rock ‘n roll is all but extinct and ….CLEVELAND ROCKS – I don’t know who this Lebron James chick is, but she’s stupid as hell for leaving because my babies from Cleveland can RIP IT!!

Next Stop – Erie, PA!

As always – love to my babies at Top Idol, Love to Top Idol herself– the bitch that writes the checks around here and…..Adam Lambert, call me!

XXOO

THE DIVA KALINA

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