ApexNomad

As a bottom myself, I think it ultimately depends on the person, not just their sexual history. There’s merit in both perspectives. A top who’s bottomed might have a deeper sense of empathy—understanding what certain positions feel like, how to read body language, how to pace things from the inside out. That experience can translate into a more connected, intuitive kind of topping. But on the flip side, there are total tops who’ve never bottomed but bring an obsessive attention to detail—the kind who take real pride in giving. Some of the best tops I’ve had were guys who genuinely loved fucking. They were present, vocal, responsive—not because they’d bottomed before, but because they were turned on by the experience—my experience—not just the mechanics. BUT, that’s not to say that a bottom who tops (vers) can’t bring that either. Which leads me to this: I think the question of “who’s the better top” can trap us into thinking there’s one formula. There isn’t. Sometimes it’s technical, sometimes it’s emotional, sometimes it’s just raw chemistry. In my opinion, I think it is the idea that a “true top” has never bottomed plays into a deeply ingrained fantasy about masculinity—this old-school, dominant, impenetrable ideal. It’s not necessarily true, but it is erotic for some of us. That perception—of a man who only gives, never receives—can feel powerful, even primal. Especially for bottoms who are drawn to that kind of energy. But that fantasy has less to do with skill and more to do with the psychology of the dynamic. It’s about control, dominance, protection—or sometimes just the illusion of those things. And I think masculinity gets tangled up in it. Not because bottoming is inherently less masculine, but because we’ve been conditioned to associate penetration with power, and submission with the lack of it. So when we say the idea of a never-bottomed top is a turn-on, what we’re often reacting to I believe is the mythology of the masculine top—not necessarily the reality. Some of the best, most attentive tops I’ve ever had were men who’ve bottomed. But for some that doesn’t always scratch the same itch as the fantasy of the “pure top,” even if it feels better in practice.

Not as old a Mel, but some days I feel it. Thank you for your kind note, my friend. I hope you are well too.

Headley was amazing. Hudson in The Color Purple is a textbook example of a vanity role.

Hudson was the worst actress to play Shug. And when she didn’t get the Tony nom, she left the show shortly thereafter.

I feel like such an old queen debating Gypsy on a Thursday night, but here we are. First — we agree on something: Gypsy is a beloved show. The score is iconic, and the role of Rose will always draw attention. But let’s be clear — you’re now saying the casting isn’t the issue as long as it’s a Black actress you personally prefer. That’s not about artistic vision or respect for the material. That’s taste posing as authority. And it underscores my point: what’s really being challenged here isn’t Audra’s talent or Rose’s history — it’s your comfort. You said Gypsy is a “very real person” to audiences — and that’s fine. But the character of Mama Rose, as written, is not a historical reenactment. She’s a theatrical invention. A mythic figure. The same way Funny Girl plays fast and loose with Fanny Brice’s life. That dramatic elasticity — that freedom — is what allows reinterpretations to breathe. You framed Audra’s casting as risky for both “white acceptance” and “Black acceptance.” But risky to whom? Whose approval are we centering when we assume a show’s success hinges on casting someone who flatters nostalgia? Audra McDonald has six Tonys and more range in her pinky than most performers could dream of. She doesn’t need anyone’s permission to play Rose. She is exactly the kind of actor this role demands — vocally, emotionally, and dramatically. And when you say you would’ve “run to buy tickets if it were Jennifer Holliday or Jennifer Hudson,” that’s not an artistic objection. That’s a personal preference — and that’s fine. But preference isn’t principle. And it doesn’t override legitimacy. At the end of the day, Gypsy doesn’t belong to one voice, one aesthetic, or one audience. If it can’t survive reinterpretation, maybe it isn’t as immortal as its fans want to believe.

This made my day. I hope I’m still alive to see it when it comes out. 2027.

That’s not a bad way to go.

Effie and Deena are explicitly written as Black women. Their race is central to the story — it’s about Black artists navigating racism in the music industry during the Motown era. You can’t separate their identity from the plot. Casting white actresses in those roles would erase that cultural and historical context — it wouldn’t be nontraditional, it would be whitewashing. In contrast, Gypsy isn’t a show about whiteness. Rose is not defined by race. She’s defined by ambition, control, delusion, and love. A Black actress in the role doesn’t erase the story’s meaning — it expands it. That’s the difference between representation and erasure. Race matters in Dreamgirls. It does not define Gypsy. That’s the distinction.

This is working for me on so many different levels!

I think what we’re seeing is that overt racism has become more socially acceptable in some circles — not because of illness, but because certain environments have made people feel emboldened to say out loud what they used to keep hidden.

For the record, I would be possessive of his dick too.

Broadway tickets are expensive — not everyone’s rushing to drop $250+ on a show they’ve seen revived half a dozen times. And this is coming from someone who paid center 3x as much for orchestra aisle to see George Clooney and Denzel Washington. The issue isn’t Audra or George Wolfe — it’s that Gypsy is old-school. I know because I’m old! But it’s old. Brilliant, yes. But it doesn’t have the IP buzz or TikTok hype that fills theaters in 2025. If anything, Audra’s taking a risk — not indulging in vanity. She’s trying to breathe fresh life into a classic that isn’t an automatic sell anymore. As for your last point — whew. That’s a minefield of false equivalence and coded racial grievance. Yes, Gypsy Rose Lee was a real person, but Gypsy the musical is only loosely based on her memoir. The lead role — Mama Rose — is not a strict historical figure. She’s a theatrical invention: a heightened, mythic portrayal of ambition and maternal obsession. The show isn’t a documentary — it’s a drama with a capital D. You’re comparing apples to institutional racism. The casting of Audra McDonald is a reinterpretation of a fictional role, not an erasure of a historical figure’s lived experience. If a white actress were cast to play, say, Harriet Tubman or Billie Holiday — that’s revisionist. Audra playing Rose? That’s theater doing what theater has always done best: reinventing familiar stories with fresh urgency. And frankly, if anyone has earned the right to take on a role like this, it’s Audra. Ten times over.

Audra McDonald isn’t “that kind of star”? You mean the kind with 6 Tonys, a National Medal of Arts, and universal critical respect? She doesn’t need to prove anything. But Broadway still needs to catch up to her. Funny how a white actress taking on Rose is brave or just right, but when it’s Audra — a literal Broadway legend with more Tonys than anyone alive — it’s suddenly a “vanity project.”

That’s an important and often overlooked point. Sexual attraction doesn’t erase systemic bias, fetishization, or interpersonal prejudice. Racism can exist within intimacy — when someone exoticizes, objectifies, or limits a person’s value to their body or race. In my opinion, true allyship and respect go far beyond who someone sleeps with. It shows up in how they engage with people’s humanity, dignity, and lived experience. I wonder how Rhyheim feels.

He had no problem taking Rhyheim Shabazz’s dick up his ass.

The Gazillion Bubble Show brings back such sweet memories. I saw that show on a date night. The finale is basically an orgy of bubbles—you can barely see a thing. It’s hilarious. And we kissed under the bubbles.

I wouldn’t underestimate Heather Headley. She doesn’t have the cache as Audra, but Netflix has reach and she stars in the widely popular Sweet Magnolias. She’s a Tony winner herself. People have been waiting for her return to Broadway. And I love her voice. I could see her act the shit out of that role. But it’s a moot point as the actress from Memphis is scheduled to take on the role while Audra is on vacation.

Silence can be sexy—but apathy? Not so much. There’s a difference between being passive and being absent. I’m paying for the time spent with a human being, not a doorstop. And as a bottom, if a provider’s whole vibe is “don’t talk, just take it”—fine. BUT, and this is a big BUT… then make it worth the silence. Dominance isn’t the same as disengagement. Otherwise, it’s not sex—it’s a sleep study.

Here’s the thing about Gypsy - she’s the ultimate star vehicle, not a box office marathon. Every Gypsy revival burns bright… then exits stage left. None of the revivals last long - only two lasted little over a year.

It’s always a shame when a show has to close. At least Smash made it past the Tonys. Can’t say the same for Redwood which announced its early closing after the nominations.

If you can sit through Threepenny Opera, you can sit through Sunset Blvd. 😘 I almost walked out of Thou Shalt Not—starring Harry Connick Jr., with music by Harry Connick Jr., co-starring Debra Monk. The only reason I stayed after intermission was because Monk’s character becomes paralyzed in the face and has to communicate using a chalkboard around her neck. I was holding out hope for an 11 o’clock number featuring Monk and the chalkboard—but alas, it never came.

You can bleach it, buff it, bedazzle it—still an asshole, boys.

“I couldn’t help but wonder… can a show lose its zip code without changing its address?”

I’m getting that way about the original characters too.

Honestly, even the editor’s probably like, ‘Yeah, go ahead.”