Tegan and Sara provided the soundtrack for my coming-out years. In my room I would unceasingly play the air guitar, the air drums, and the air keyboard, to all their bitchin’ tracks (when mom wasn’t home). To see them live at Stubb's was a full-circle treat.

My friend and I ate a greasy barbecue sandwich during Northern State’s set. But as soon as they left the stage we forced our way toward the front. We wanted to be sandwiched, pressed, forced to jive with total strangers (the cool breeze kept the claustrophobia at bay). We couldn’t avoid the tall people with disruptive hairstyles and one girl barfed dangerously close to our sneakers and sandals, but it didn’t matter. We belted out terrible sing-along attempts … to every song. They combined their newest album with plenty of old favorites.

In between songs the twins told us cute stories about their explosive tour bus and their other visits to Austin. Apparently this was the first U.S. city they visited on their musical debut.

Needless to say, I felt silly and 17 and, judging by the wave of dancing fans, I wasn’t the only one. Add in the booze and the eye candy and a good time was had by all. It was gay-reat.

Hey there, party people. Today's presentation is an assortment of folks, some fictional, some nonfictional who would make great Homoween costumes.

READ ON!

Marlon Brando - A white T-shirt and a leather jacket, call yourself Johnny and do rebellious things - or wear a tank-top (or go shirtless) and scream "STELLA!" every now and again.

Anderson Cooper - A nice suit, and some chalk to gray-out your hair. Get a mani-pedi before you go trick-or-treating and rest assured that you were born into and will live in the lap of luxury for the rest of your life. Rrrwor.

Rosie O'Donnell - Honestly, you could take this one many different directions: buy a bunch of kooshes and fling them at party-goers, wear a baseball uniform and act crass (see Madonna as well), or even, do you guys remember that horrid haircut she shaved in to impress Boy George?

Ellen Degeneres - Wear a slim suit with a graphic tee, do a little dance, cry a little bit (for that poor dog) and go to town.

Madonna - She is just an endless source of material: which Madonna to choose? Fetishist from "Human Nature"? Gothic Quabbalistic Princess? Mommy Madge? You can even take hints from the best!

Mr. Clean - Shave your head, pierce your ear, wink at housewives, and grab other guys' butts.

Tim Gunn - Think Anderson Cooper, only classier.

Jerri Blank: She's an ex-con trying to start her life all over again, with lesbiatronic leanings. Really, this is perhaps the best idea on the list. Go to Goodwill and inhabit your character!

Kate Messer - Grab some Buddy Holly glasses and go to town as the hippest (and hottest) lesbian role model we know!

No way. No friggin' way. I think I had a pre-pubescent daydream one time about this, all the Brady girls, hair of gold like their mother, you know, getting it on with each other. (I mean, not Cindy. That's a little too NAMBLA even for me.)

But it's true, and soon-to-be-revealed in Maureen McCormick's tell-all novel about the sitcom, Jan and Marcia (McCormick and Eve Plumb) had a spicy lesbian fling while on the show together.

Gives "Marcia, Marcia, Marcia" a whole new meaning ...

Saw this too late to get it into tomorrow's issue, but wanted you to know that Wigstock founder and all around faboo drag diva Lady Bunny will be in town this Saturday, August 25, 8pm at OilCan Harry's.

Here's some great early Bunny some of you may recognize from the heady big hair-era heyday of 1989!

Pickle Surprise!

Hotter than yer pre-election gay-sex scandal, here come the Beckhams, like British royalty invading La-la land with hot accents, hot photo spreads, and scorching red-white-and-blue ways to change the world …? Or so we/they hope. Will Spice Girls reunited still entice? Will skinny-minny Victoria snap plum in half? Can BeXXX, with his perfectly chiseled features, bubble butt, and extreme ball-kickin' talent change American professional soccer from bore to score? From z-ing to ka-ching?

All this and more, as the Beckhams burn. Sssss.

Meanwhile, it hurts that I can't just sleep in between these two. Every night. Cuddle puddle. Hmmmph.

We'll just link you to this review from the Houston Chronicle's blog and this new one from SF Gate, about one of the last shows of the tour in Berkeley, and then add that Erasure gave me a big gay woody.

Click the link above the pic to view a full gallery of shots.

Tonight, Thursday, Yo Majesty at the Beauty Bar. I'm actually going to call a temporary lax on my previous self-imposed exile from the place just to see these girls: Three badass motherfuckers from Tampa, Fla., who can rap. Shit. They let it all hang out and turn every kid in the room into an immediate No. 1 fan. Just watch.

This midweek extravaganza is for those cats that think, "Ah, Austin's no fun. Nothing to do for lesbians or for gay kids in gen." Well, get up outta yer PJs, and maybe, just maybe, you'll end up in 'em again, eating postcoital Cinnabons.