BY TOMMY ZANE GAYDAR EDITOR Okay, so Ramon and I split up. I don’t want to talk about it — suffice it to say, he’s an asshole. While licking my wounds, let’s eat bon-bons and trawl YouTube together. We’ll commiserate and I will show you something most straights aren’t supposed to see: The Top Five Most Horrifyingly Bad Queer Clips On The Net. C’mon! Let’s get gay the Gaybo way — without ever having to leave your chair! Or, gay — you can get it on computer now.
5-Liberace and His Diamonds
Liberace was the original “sister,” all dolled up in furs with a lisp that could sway the wildest of jungle beasts. His untimely demise of AIDS complications in 1987 still didn’t convince many a Midwest housewife ol’ Lee was gay. Go figure. Anyway, here she is, in all her glory.

[youtube]Pf7vhDlhj4g&mode=related&search=[/youtube]

4-Barbra Streisand “Left In The Dark”

Barbra smoking a cigarette. Special guest, Kris Kristofferson. After huge successes penning Meat Loaf’s “Bat Out of Hell” and Bonnie Tyler’s “Total Eclipse of The Heat,” Jim Steinman must’ve seemed like a logical writer for Streisand’s new 1984 album, Emotion. “Left In The Dark” was the leadoff single and went nowhere fast. No, I didn’t include this because I split with Ramon. This record was always bad, even before Ramon cheated on me. Fine, if you must know . . . he nailed an ex-bf. Just horrid.

3-Pia Zadora “You Bring Out The Lover In Me”

The 80s answer to Anna Nicole, Pia married a super-rich guy who managed to bankroll her into all sorts of awful projects. Best faghag Miss Esther tells me that Pia once played the title role in “Diary of Anne Frank” and was so bad that

when the Nazis searched the house, an audience member yelled, “She’s in the attic!”

This clip from 1985’s Voyage of The Rock Aliens features ankles and the panties of piddling coeds. Dreadful!

2-Queen and Liza Minelli-“We Are The Champions”

She won a Best Actress Oscar for “Cabaret” in 1972 and a Tony in 1965 For her performance in the musical “Flora, The Red Menace,” but by 1992, Liza Minelli wasn’t at the top of her game. In this clip, Minelli closes the Freddy Mercury AIDS Benefit at London’s Wembley Stadium and screeches away any legitimacy she had ever possessed. Did I say possessed? You’d have to be, to think she sounds good.

1-Jonny “Gay Pimp” McGovern in “Soccer Practice”

Ah, yes…the gay community’s response to Marky Mark. Never meant for mainstream consumption, here’s one of those NYC bitches so into his own universe that he’s lost all concept of quality. The song sucks, but I admit, the eye candy is f-a-b-u-l-o-u-s! The epitome of bad taste.

THREESOME OF THE WEEK:

Ramon and the two sluts I’m sure he hooked up with at the bathhouse last night. Asshole! [Snap! Oh yes he did! — Th’Editrix]

GAYBO YOUTUBE EXTRA

Groove Armada return with an electronic tribute to bunny copulation.

Must be seen to be believed.

ABOUT THIS COLUMN: Are you gay and read Phawker? Or just thinking about it? Becoming gay that is. Because, you know, you ‘heard good things.’ Are you straight but curious how the other team plays? Congressman, we have heard your call and answered your prayers. Our Gaydar Editor Tommy Zane is gay all day and queer for a year, and like all gays he is wickedly funny, stylish, tidy and knows from window treatments. He could also probably kick your ass into next week. But don’t worry, Tommy’s a lover not a fighter. He may be going to hell, but then most of our straight friends are, too. Every week look for GAYBO. We’ll have a gay old time!

The Amy Winehouse show has been moved from the TLA to the Elecrtic Factory and moved up a day — to the same day as Arcade Fire at the Tower. This is like being handed a scalpel and having to decide which half of the siamese twins lives and which half dies. Damn you, Gods of the Guest List! WHY? WHY DO YOU MOCK ME SO?

*From “Me And Mister Jones” by Amy Winehouse, now playing on Phawker Radio (along with Arcade Fire and new Wilco)

[To The Inquirer Staff:]

For the past five years I have served as the Managing Editor of the Philadelphia Inquirer and it has been a service of great joy and, at times, of great turmoil. But it has always been the most interesting, challenging, vexing and rewarding thing I have done in my professional life. Now, however, after much thought, I have decided it is time to do something else.

I am leaving to accept a partnership offer with a private-investment firm directed by a man I have come to like and admire over the past eight months. That man is Michael Dubilier and the company is Dubilier & Co. Working together with another equally talented partner, James Wu, we intend to buy, build and manage media, technology and entertainment companies. (The firm will, of course, retain and build upon its other holdings as well as work with its other associates in the partnerships, ventures and firms it already controls.) Suffice it to say, Dubilier & Co. is not your typical private-equity firm and as such it has the freedom to fund start-up companies as well as operate its own companies for any length of time.

I have joined Dubilier & Co. not only because it is time for me to chart my own course, but because I am convinced that innovative leadership in the world of media will make a difference in how journalists thrive in the year’s ahead. Those of you who have worked closely with me know that I have long been fascinated by how today’s journalists will become tomorrow’s. Over time, as I have watched the turmoil that surrounds all media today, I have become equally fascinated by how good journalism can be married with good business, for the former cannot survive without the later. I am leaving for the rare opportunity to figure this out in my own way, on my own terms.

The Inquirer is a fine newspaper and has been for a very long time. It got that way and remains that way because of all the hard work each of you has contributed. It has been a great honor to participate in that body of work in some small way. My fondest memories will be of the teamwork that was – and is – practiced in this newsroom in the face of challenges, be they journalistic or economic. In good times and bad I have been blessed with true colleagues who laughed, cried, worried, and triumphed with me. For that I am so grateful. The heart and soul of any newspaper, of any business really, is its people, and this building is truly brimming with good, talented people.

I wish you all good luck and good fortunes in your careers. The Inquirer has a passionate entrepreneur at its helm, a man who cares very deeply about the success of this company. Editorially, the Inquirer has a man with a deep, deep well of journalistic experience and passion at its helm. This strong partnership is growing each day and I could not be more grateful for that as it is the very best thing that can happen for the future of this newspaper and for all of you.

I will miss this newspaper and you, but I am leaving with the joy of a new challenge firmly lodged in my heart.

Anne Gordon

AND THEN THERE WERE NONE: Pictured from left to right, Anne Gordon (with head down), Amanda Bennett, former editor of Inquirer, Joe Natoli, former publisher of the Inquirer. Developing…

JONATHAN VALANIA REPORTS: When you live blog at WHYY, this is what you see. For reasons still not quite clear, you cannot sit in the actual studio with Marty and Chaka Fattah and if you ask why they say “Look, you seem like a nice kid. You don’t want me to get Patrick Stoner to come in here and straighten you out, do ya?” No, siree, you say, shaking your head vigoriously. And so, you are escorted to a nearby conference room where you watch radio on the television — in this case a Hi-Def flat-screen curiously framed by Barney and Laa-Laa the Teletubby — and you are babysat by not just one, but two publicists. Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure I can take them. Worst case scenario, I will use my patented WHYY Tote Bag Windmill manuever which has gotten me out of more public radio jams than I care to remember. Hopefully there will be no need for such unpleasantness.

Ran into Congressman Fattah in lobby, he told me he’s not only heard of this so-called Phawker, he has seen it, too. Nice. He is accompanied by spokesman Solomon Jones who I used to work with back in the day, when it was still called Philadelphia Weekly. Let me say this about Solomon: If he was running for mayor I would vote for him in a red hot minute. As for his boss, well, let’s say this: If Solomon Jones says Chaka Fattah is a good man, then he is a good man. Still, it’s a little disconcerting that Fattah continues to speak in such vague generalities this close to the election. One of the specifics he did offer was killing the onerous business privelege tax dead: “We have to get out of the business privilege tax business…we have said that by our first budget, we are out of that business.” Although he’s offered no compelling specifics for replacing that revenue outside of the airport leasing idea which, despite all the protest to the contrary, is entirely doable with cooperation from city council and the state legislature. Seriously, if we wanna do that, we change the rules. That’s what legislators do. If we can put a casino in south Philly, we can make the airport make mad bank.

The Congressman was uninspiring on the question of stemming the astronomical-and-climbing homicide rate. He mentioned a guns-for-grocery-vouchers program he helped initiate, which netted some 1,000 guns. OK, credit where credit is due. But something tells me those particular guns were never gonna hurt anybody anway. People that are armed and truly dangerous, that rely on a gun to protect and enforce their market share, which is to say their livelihood — well, these people simply ain’t gonna turn in their guns to the police for a $20 voucher to Super-Fresh.

What kind of man reads Phawker? A UNITED STATES CONGRESSman! We’re gonna tag this one: Chaka Phawka. Thanks for being a good sport, Congressman. And good luck to you, sir.

WISH U WERE HERE: Beretta 76, Rick D Tribute, Tritone, Last Night

Police chalked up the city’s 137th homicide of the year Sunday around 1:30am in the city’s East Germantown section following a triple shooting. Officers have been busy interviewing a number of people.

Shots rang out in the 1900 block of Stenton Avenue just outside Charlie’s Little Spot bar. It was a triple shooting that left a 31-year-old woman dead and two men wounded.

KYW: Drunks + Guns = Last Call

[By TOM TOMORROW via HUFFINGTON POST]

Crazy, man.

In an editorial appearing tomorrow, The Philadelphia Inquirer will endorse former City Councilman Michael Nutter in the May 15 Democratic primary race. The newspaper’s editorial calls Nutter “the most promising package of achievement, persistence, smarts and vision.” The endorsement said Nutter, 49, “is easy to imagine on the national stage as the fresh voice of a resurgent Philadelphia, changing the narrative from one about bloodshed, corruption and dysfunction to one about new ideas, new energy, new partnerships.”

INQUIRER: The editorial board said three other candidates “don’t measure up.” It dismissed the candidacies of Reps. Bob Brady and Chaka Fattah. It also declined to support businessman Tom Knox, whom it called “not so much an outsider as a novice.”

Coming soon…

BY TOM TOMORROW At the Republican convention in Philadelphia in 2000 I hung out with Dave Barry and his cartoonist posse (Mike Luckovich, Walt Handlesman, Chip Bok, and Rob Rogers). The thing about hanging out with Dave Barry is that he’s (a) famous and (b) innately likeable, and as a result you end up in some really odd situations. For instance: we were sitting in a hotel bar when we were introduced to Jack Valenti, who invited us to a party he was co-hosting with Mark Foley (yes, that Mark Foley). When we got there, we had some trouble getting in — since our convention credentials clearly marked us as “media” we were immediately corralled into a little media pen outside the party where we would be allowed to watch actual partygoers walk into the actual party. Mark Foley (yes, that Mark Foley) eventually intervened and we made it into the party — where we then realized we had just spent a lot of time and energy trying to get into a loud boring party full of Republicans. The party was divided into two rooms between which there was a connecting section with a small platform, maybe a foot up off the ground, some sort of DJ thing that wasn’t being used. I suggested we commandeer it and declare it our own VIP area, off limits to the hoi polloi. There was a handy orange traffic cone in the room for some reason, so we snagged that as a further indicator of the exclusivity of the cartoonists’ VIP platform, and stood up there, arms outstretched with palms out, announcing to befuddled Republicans, “Sorry, VIP room, no admittance.” [via THIS MODERN WORLD Blog]