Los Angeles may be the “City of Angels,” but if there were one man who could claim the title of Angel-in-Chief, it’s Mike Pingel. On Sunday, September 7, Collector’s Call on MeTV spotlights his “heavenly” collection of Charlie’s Angels memorabilia. This is not just a story of a man coming across a few Charlie’s Angels magazines or dolls. Pingel’s collection includes more than 2,000 items spanning from rare scripts and dolls to a pinball machine. If God had a giftshop, Pingel is the one who has the spare key. 

For Pingel – writer, publicist, and lifelong superfan – Charlie’s Angels has always been more than nostalgic TV. It is a culturally iconic masterpiece with deep resonance for LGBTQ+ audiences who saw glamour on-screen. The glamour was undeniable, even though each episode was basically an EPA violation caused by too much hairspray.

“Us queers love our beautiful, strong women, and Charlie’s Angels fits that bill on and off the TV screen,” Pingel tells the Blade. “The world fell in love with Charlie’s Angels as soon as it hit the airwaves on ABC-TV on September 21, 1976.” For Pingel, that love affair was fueled by the cast itself: “Farrah Fawcett, Kate Jackson, Jaclyn Smith, Cheryl Ladd, Shelley Hack, and Tanya Roberts are timeless beauties… The Angels got through it together just like the LGBTQ+ does together as a group, as we have always fought for our rights together – we got each other’s backs!”

The origin story of Pingel’s collection (or should we say addiction?) started with a few allowance dollars burning a hole in his pocket in San Francisco’s Chinatown. “I’ve been collecting since 1977!” Pingel explains, “I think the very first item I bought with my allowance was a few packets of Charlie’s Angels Topps trading cards.”

Since then, Pingel has amassed just about everything you can imagine the Charlie’s Angels series producing – games, puzzles, posters, and personal gifts from the actresses themselves. It’s still a smaller collection than Cher’s wigs, but it’s impressive nonetheless. Out of the thousands of items, Pingel has a favorite:  “The Kris Munroe Business card Cheryl Ladd gave me for my 30th Birthday. She used them in the show as her character. Now that’s pretty cool!”

Mike Pingel & his Angels / Photo courtesy of Mike Pingel

Like many LGBTQ+ kids of the ’70s, Pingel fell in love with one of the lead actresses in Charlie’s Angels, Farrah Fawcett. Unlike most people, he ended up working for her. “Being Farrah’s assistant was something I never thought I would be doing,” he recalls. “She was so sweet but also the smartest businesswoman.” 

As Fawcett’s personal assistant, Pingel tells the Blade something most might not know about her: “One thing people might not know is she liked her cookies more on the burnt side! … Farrah called me on the intercom [picture how Charlie calls the Angels on the show]. She said ‘Mike, can you cook these a bit more – I like them a little burnt!’ It broke my heart a bit but I have to do what an Angel asks!” Only Farrah could make burnt cookies sound glamorous. If Martha Stewart did it, we’d just call it a parole violation.

When asked if he considers himself a preserver of LGBTQ+ pop culture as well as TV history, Pingel laughs: “I never thought of it that way! I guess I am!” He tells the Blade that everyone is an expert in something. “I just happen to be that for Charlie’s Angels.” And he’s not shy about sharing it. “If you’re in the West Hollywood area, hit me up. I love sharing my Charlie’s Angels collection.” As of now, this is officially the gayest Airbnb listing in recorded history.

Pingel speaks of filming for Collector’s Call – the episode which will be released on September 7th. “One thing that did surprise me was once they arrived at 7am (they were a bit early) in the morning. I did not have time to shower or shave for the show! They were here and boom right into production.” And then came the surreal moment: the host, Lisa Whelchel – the actress who played Blair Warner from The Facts of Life – getting her makeup and hair done in his bathroom. “I could not believe Blair Warner was in my apartment! Now that was some Facts of Life!”

Collector’s Call team / Photo: MeTV

Though Charlie’s Angels first appeared in the 70’s, with a few movie sequels in recent years, it is easy to assume that Charlie’s Angels might be too dated. But with a new Brazilian Charlie’s Angels series on the way, Pingel is confident the Angels’ mission is eternal. Specifically, the mission being independence for all: “Girl Power. Outside the glamour and adventure lies the power of women. Charlie’s Angels showed how woman can do anything without the help of men.”

Before you dismiss Pingel’s Charlie’s Angels as just another quirky collection, remember what it really preserves: a world where beauty, camp, and solidarity gave LGBTQ+ kids the courage to see themselves differently. Pingel leaves the Blade with a final comment: “Together we can conquer anything and that includes all of us LGBTQ+ Angels!”

Mike Pingel’s episode of Collector’s Call airs Sunday, September 7, at 6:30/5:30c p.m. on MeTV.

It’s often forgotten how integral cannabis culture has been to Queer liberation, a little-known aspect of our LGBTQ+ history that August 28th’s Loud and Proud event worked hard to spotlight. 

Co-sponsored by the Los Angeles Blade, Culture Machine, and Last Prisoner’s Project, this evening of discussion brought vital knowledge to West Hollywood’s The Abbey. Beyond an invigorating ambience — due largely to stellar performances by Maris and S.I.A.T. — the event was something that most attendees didn’t expect: a call to action. Loud and Proud’s goal was to do more than just inform them about what the marijuana industry looks like in LA. It charted the intricate ways that the advancement of cannabis has been tied to the fight for LGBTQ+ rights. And, by helping fight for its decriminalization, folks can assist thousands of unjustly imprisoned people all across this country. 

“Our history as queer people is directly tied to the cannabis industry,” explained West Hollywood City Councilman John Erickson, a member of the event’s all-star panel (moderated by LA Blade publisher Alexander Rodriguez). In tandem with fellow cannabis advocates Maha Haq and Andrés Rigal, the speakers explained how not only has marijuana been used globally for centuries, but in the U.S., it was vital in helping survivors during the AIDS crisis. This time saw the earliest instances of weed being used medically, helping those struggling with the nausea of HIV treatment actually want to eat the food their bodies needed to heal. It proved integral in abetting the suffering of countless patients — so what made politicians decide to launch entire media wars against its usage? Along with the corporate greed of billionaires, Erickson clarified exactly why so many lawmakers were scared of queer folk using marijuana: “Cannabis [always broke] through the ‘medical glass ceiling’ — and it was criminalized because you fear the things that you can’t control.”

Loud and Proud attendees were lucky to hear from Steven Post of Last Prisoner’s Project (TLPP), a nonprofit dedicated to freeing the people still incarcerated due to marijuana in the U.S. “This is something that has been going on for over 50 years,” said Post, when breaking down how Ronald Reagan — a President whose discriminatory policies prolonged the lethal AIDS crisis — escalated the “war on drugs” as an excuse to increase policing against Black and Brown communities. He describes how, even though cannabis has not only been legalized in many states but is now a booming industry, there are still thousands of folks in prison for these crimes that are no longer illegal in the U.S. This is a criminalization that has disproportionately targeted queer and Black communities, leaving the populations that revolutionized this drug to suffer while primarily White, cisgender owners profit through their own dispensaries. But though this history is extremely disappointing, Post reminds guests, “There’s a lot of work that still needs to be done….anything you can do, whether it’s sharing a social media post, donating or taking action in your own community, [anything you can do] is really important.” Organizations like TLPP are fighting every single day to free folks imprisoned for cannabis and make it legal for all, a fight that the panelists remind everyone they can join right now. 

Cannabis has always been utilized not only to help queer folks but give them the wellness tools they need in the ongoing fight for liberation. It’s a usage that isn’t often discussed, but these panelists raise awareness of through their work. “We’re showing consumers that there’s a beautiful, conscious way to understand cannabis,” said Vanessa Oliver, whose company Cloud9 Studios works to inform people about the benefits of cannabis in a wellness-focused, educational way. Along with Luke Anderson, creator of the innovative cannabis company Cann, they emphasize that guests shouldn’t be defeated by the many ways cannabis criminalization is used against their communities. Rather, they should learn from cannabis pioneers like Dennis Peron and Brownie Mary — those who recognized the benefits of this drug and how it could help bring health equity to the communities that so often are denied this human right. 

The Loud and Proud panelists made it clear: the fight for queer liberation through cannabis is still alive and strong. Whether it be through nonprofits like The Last Prisoners Project or inclusive business models, these advocates work to free those in prisons and ensure there won’t be any others who face unjust policing due to cannabis.  “We’re building off of these stepping stones because we believe this is compassionate care,” clarified Oliver. She and the rest of the panel encourage everyone listening to spread this message, to get involved in the local politics that often determine cannabis laws, and help create a culture where people can benefit from its use safely. 

Rousing finale by S.I.A.T. / Photo: Culture Machine

And, most of all, whether it be through community events like Loud and Proud or other ways of community education, to learn about how marijuana usage has always been essential in the fight for queer rights. Because once people understand that, they’ll realize that by fighting to uplift queer Cannabis culture, they’ll be fighting to uplift the entire LGBTQ+ community today. 

A special thank you to the staff and event team at The Abbey for hosting us, our presenting sponsor, Emerald Village, and contributors TreeXLines and BEBOE.

Since the Coen Brothers began pursuing their individual projects following the Oscar-nominated The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, director Ethan Coen has quickly made his priorities clear with Drive-Away Dolls and now Honey Don’t! — unserious, laid-back neo-noir crime movies with a dose of queer love.

Margaret Qualley once again leads the cast, and in Honey Don’t! she plays Honey O’Donahue, a private investigator trying to piece together a string of murders in Bakersfield, Calif. with her tried and true methods. The most troubling figure in this town appears to be Reverend Drew Devlin (a hilarious Chris Evans), the priest who spends all his time having sex with unnamed women. This web of clues includes a dead body in a car that opens the film, a lover (Billy Eichner) who finds out his partner is cheating on him, a grisly shootout, a girl afraid of a homeless man, and just one cop Honey does come to trust and fall for: MG Falcone, played by a surprisingly self-serious Aubrey Plaza.

However, don’t be mistaken: Coen and Tricia Cooke’s (his real life partner) script is not really interested in building out a mystery at all. All the individual puzzle pieces never come together, leaving a thin breadcrumb of loose ends in this western conservative town. Every moment feels like it’s meant to be enjoyed on a scene-to-scene basis, and this is all intentional.

That would be fine — welcome, even, for a brainless night at the movies! — if the individual pieces were actually fun to watch. But the characters are so one-note and stiff, and the humor lacks any real bite, leaving the proceedings feeling drier and drier as the runtime slugs along at a mere 89 minutes.

Qualley is delightful to watch as always, and it’s no surprise that Coen and Cooke have made her their muse for this unofficial “lesbian B-movie trilogy.” She’s always commanding to watch as a protagonist, and she says a lot without saying anything. Honey’s relationship with MG is unexpected because both Plaza and Qualley’s characters are much more reserved than their usual characters, and they are enjoyable as a lesbian duo.

Shot on location in Albuquerque, Ari Wagner’s (The Power of the Dog) cinematography highlights the small details in this town, especially in a clever opening scene that intercuts cast and crew names with shop signs. It’s unfortunate that the story never fully takes advantage of this unique setting, leaving many of the film’s biggest moments taking place in tucked-away houses and interiors. This only adds to everything feeling scatterbrained — Bakersfield just never feels like a real place where these characters reside.

Even when the script finally starts to get interesting, with a shocking reveal during the final set-piece, the film can’t fully commit to letting us feel the repercussions or consequences of the danger Honey finds herself in. There’s also an interesting dynamic with Honey’s sister (Kristen Connolly) and her chaotic family that kind of just withers out by the end. Again, all of this low-stakes energy would be enjoyable if the film made it worth a while and gave the actors more to play with. As a film without much of a plot anchor, it all comes down to how much Coen and Cooke’s broad sense of humor works on you.

Fans of Drive-Away Dolls will find more of the same here, but even in the world of this unofficial trilogy, Honey Don’t! is a notable step down in wit, charm, and energy… many of the attributes that used to make Coen Brothers movies tick.

CinePride is more than a film festival, it serves as a reminder that queer storytelling refuses to be put in a box. CinePride celebrates creators who color outside the lines and push stories to the emotional edge. It’s the type of platform where visibility becomes prioritized and where chosen family sits front row. And among the standouts: a sibling story that checks all of the following boxes – hilarious, heartbreaking, and (w)holly unhinged.

We (heart emoji)  Wee Willie Winky, the wickedly sharp short film from writer-director Mark A. Dahl, which playfully untangles family dysfunction with a cocktail in one hand and a raised eyebrow in the other. When two estranged siblings discover their allegedly long-passed father is actually recently deceased, chaos and comedy are not far behind the news. Think The Royal Tenenbaums meets John Waters on a psilocybin trip through the Hollywood Hills. 

With biting wit, a tickle of trauma, and a mother who can easily outdo the entire Real Housewives franchise and then some, Dahl delivers a proof-of-concept that demands more. Preferably a full series. Fingers (and toes) crossed…

Let’s start with the basics. For those who haven’t seen your short film Wee Willie Winky yet, can you describe it for us in one sentence?

Two pretty horrible kids go visit their mother when they find out their father died, who they thought died twenty-five years earlier, to find out what the hell actually happened.

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Speaking of Daddy, uh, there’s clearly some pointed and also playful daddy issues at play with this film. Is this theme personal?

That’s a really interesting question. You know, my sister and I, we both have daddy issues. . My dad died when I was six. She was estranged from her father as well. And I think that’s kind of a common thread with the LGBT community, especially gay men. I don’t wanna speak for anyone else. I am a gay man. There’s a lot of family with this piece that I found really cool. 

In the film we have some conniving siblings, a twice dead father and a mother standing in their way. What drew you to explore this kind of dysfunctional family dynamic? And were there any specific films or creators that influenced your tone here?

I’ve always been a really big fan of dark humor in all of its forms. I love dark comedy, and I would say the House of Yes is a very big influence. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen it with Parker Posey. It’s twisted, twisted, twisted, and we love Parker. And that’s definitely a big influence on the writing. And then what was the other half?

I’m a huge fan of John Waters, and that was always massive family dysfunction, which I always found hilarious. You know, every movie of his, the kids are screaming at the parents. And there’s just nothing more fun than a f*cked up family to watch. There really isn’t.

On your Instagram, I may have peaked at the John Waters Walk of Fame Star on there…

Yes. I went to see him get his star. That was so cool, because I remember seeing Hairspray in the eighties in the movie theater in the West Village. I remember it was pouring rain, and I saw that film. I had seen all the others on videotape, but that was the first one I saw in a movie theater. And I was like, these can be in movie theaters! These kinds of crazy stories can be in movie theaters! 

And to see him get his star was also the same kind of feeling. I was like, wow. Someone like us, someone that demented and twisted could end up on Hollywood Boulevard. That’s incredible. So, it was a really cool day.

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We tackled daddy issues. And now it’s time to discuss mommy. The mother in your film is a knockout character, and her rendition of Gwen Stefani’s “Chala Bread Girl“ was pretty epic. Was this character inspired by anyone from your actual life or pop culture?

100% inspired by Jena’s actual mother in real life. She is a sun-bunny, and even down to the voice and intonation and the way she just says things is 100% inspired by my sister from another, Jena’s mother.

Los Angeles plays a huge role in the tone of your film, with all of its grittiness and glamor. What does LA represent to you and how did you want to capture it visually?

When we first moved here – and I say “we” because my sister and her producers were scouting places for her to live – she was about to shoot a movie she had written, loosely based on her life. Joey King plays her in it, and it’s called Smartass.

They were moving us around different neighborhoods, kind of testing out where she might want to settle. So we spent a month here, a month in WeHo, then a month downtown, and eventually they put us up in the Hills for a month.

That was absolutely mind-blowing. There we were, the two of us, from basically the middle of nowhere, living in this massive, dilapidated, falling-down mansion in the Hollywood Hills. It was owned by a costume designer, and they had rented it from her. The place was packed with antiques and strange old clothes. It felt like stepping into another world.

Every day, I’d be dressing up in turbans, looking out at the city, it honestly felt like a dream. It was that Hollywood dream. That’s actually what inspired the idea for Wee Willy Winkie. We thought, what if these two kids, because that’s really what we were, what if they ended up in Hollywood?

Everything felt so beautiful back then, just looking out over the city and feeling the magic of it. That’s the feeling we wanted to capture. You’d look down the street, see a line of palm trees, and think, Oh my God, I’m really in California. I’m really in Hollywood.

That was the vibe we were chasing, something magical, a little surreal. Visually, we were heavily influenced by The Royal Tenenbaums, that kind of aesthetic really shaped the look and feel we were going for.

On your socials you refer to yourself as a “high school drama queen.” Can you tell us a little bit about your theatrical background and how that bleeds into your filmmaking style?

Actually, that’s a really good question. I think I was on stage for the first time when I was five. I come from a very religious family—I was a church singer growing up. I remember my first play in kindergarten was The Boy Who Cried Wolf, and I played the boy. During the actual performance, the kid opposite me forgot his lines. And I totally lost it—went a little ape, honestly—in front of all the parents.

I said, “I know your lines!” and I just did them for him. I finished the scene while he stood there watching. So I ended up playing both characters. And then I said something like, “I know your lines and my lines—I don’t know why you can’t learn them!” That was probably my first diva fit—my first full-on drama queen moment.

After that, I really leaned into being a drama kid. Even as a young teenager, I was acting in college plays. So my entire foundation for performance came from theater and its visual storytelling.

Eventually, we started our own non-profit film and theater company in Philadelphia, which we ran for 15 years. We just wanted to tell stories. None of us had really made films before. I mean, I had a silent Super 8 camera when I was a kid and a little video camera, but we’d never made a real movie.

So we basically created our own school, we just started doing it. We didn’t know we “weren’t supposed to” or that it wasn’t how things were done. We just wanted to make stuff, so we did. We put on a full season of live shows, and we also made music videos and short films on weekends, gathering everyone we could to help.

How do you think that background influences your storytelling style or your filmmaking approach?

It’s 100% guerrilla filmmaking. Just get it done—by any means necessary. That’s really our style. I don’t know all the technical terminology. I never went to film school. I just wanted to create. We’ve always loved the process, and that’s what kept us doing it.

With your title. Wee Willie Winky, was there any intentional nod to the 1937 Shirley Temple film where she plays a daughter of a widowed mother?

100%. And you know, the Wee Willie Winky is a child’s nursery rhyme in London, so it’s actually a little key into the father’s life. We wrote it actually as a series, a full series. So, and this is the proof of concept sort of for that series about these two estranged kids who end up back together in London, owners of a big antique shop, and then they’re discovering their own lives through their father, who has passed away. So they learn a whole new family and a whole new life about themselves.

Do you think that entertainment has a responsibility to be political? Or do you think it is also a means of escapism from politics? Or can it be both?

It can absolutely be both. Sometimes I go to the movies because I just wanna watch sh*t blow up. I go to the movies at least once a week, and I have for a very long time. It’s my favorite place in the world, and my mind is constantly worried about things in this world. If I could quote that whole Nicole Kidman thing, it’s 100% true. You sit down, the lights go down, the magic happens and you can forget about your life for a while, whatever that was. That thing cracks me up so hard. 

But also sometimes you really want to watch work that is moving you.  It has the power to change people. It has the power to shed light on situations that people don’t know about or have never thought about. And it really has the power to make people think. So 100% it can be both.

The matriarch of our story is no stranger to pina coladas. based on their personality types and respective quirks. What would be Len and Mark’s cocktails of choice?

Well, I think Len would drink anything bubbly. I think Mark would drink anything that was free, a free cocktail. Mark’s favorite cocktail is a free cocktail.

What do you hope audiences walk away with after watching Wee Willie Winky?

I hope they learn to laugh at dark stuff if they haven’t before. I hope they can find humor in pain. And I hope they want to know what happens next, and that someone else wants to know what happens next. Because I certainly want to, Jena and I certainly want to show you what happens next.

We started with one sentence and we’re going to end with one sentence. If you could write a one sentence love letter to queer cinema, what would that one sentence be?

This might make me cry because I remember the first gay movie I saw…  Dear Cinema, thank you for… Hold on. Dear Cinema, thank you for showing me onscreen that I was okay, and that me being in the world was not an abomination, and for showing me that I have a place in the world. Yeah…

CinePride runs September 11 – 14, 2025 at Landmark Theatres Sunset.

For more information, visit CinePride.org 

Before we begin, take a deep breath. The universe already has a message for you – and if you’re reading this, you were meant to see it. That’s what celebrity astrologer Kyle Thomas believes, and that is why his readings resonate across so many communities. From Hollywood elites to the LGBTQ+ community to people around the world seeking cosmic guidance, Thomas has become known as the “astrologist to the stars.” Okay, Scorpios, you can exhale now.

Thomas has lived in Los Angeles for a decade, and he describes his journey as nothing short of destiny: he arrived to pursue filmmaking, but it was through astrology – a lifelong passion – that his life was forever changed. “Because of my contacts in Hollywood, I began to do astrology readings for celebrities, who then passed me along to others due to my accuracy,” Thomas tells the Blade. What began as private readings for friends became viral predictions, media features, and a career that has since carried him to People Magazine as its official astrologer and to countless television appearances. “Suddenly, the doors opened to me to pursue not only my passion of astrology, but also to work in media on a global scale,” Thomas says.

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Most of us know our own signs – though we’ve all met a few Tauruses who claim they don’t – but few know that Los Angeles has a chart of its own. Thomas explains, “Los Angeles is a Virgo Sun because it was ‘birthed’ on September 4, 1781. While the exact timing of its birth cannot be entirely confirmed, it is technically (according to estimations) a Libra Rising with an Aries Moon.” Though Thomas notes that Los Angeles will be in a “tough period” until 2026, he does say that beginning in 2026 until the end of summer 2028 will be “absolutely glorious.” When asked how he comes to these conclusions, Thomas succinctly states, “Because I am watching the sky.” So, the next time traffic feels unbearable, just blame the Virgo energy. 

Astrology, Thomas reminds us, has always had a special resonance in queer life. No one has a “bad chart,” he says. Astrology welcomes every individual from every walk of life. For the LGBTQ+ community, the cosmos offers a place of belonging – especially when traditional religious or cultural systems have pushed them out. “I do believe that being a part of the LGBTQ+ community is a beautiful thing,” Thomas says, “it grants me a perspective on how we are all different, yet still very deeply human at the core of who we are or who we love or how we identify.” In this way, the stars insist you are not a mistake; they insist one’s identity, or difference of any kind, is part of a cosmic design. 

For the LGBTQ+ community, Thomas says there is a unique cosmic connection: the community is often associated with Uranus. “Uranus is innately connected to those who break ground, move uniquely as compared to the status quo of society, as well as eccentricity, the exotic, and the brilliant.” Yet that doesn’t imply stability, since “Uranus can also be a bit unpredictable and chaotic, too, which is because it, as an archetype, is always trying to shake things up and evolve humanity.” Thomas also believes the broader fight for civil rights can be read in the stars, pointing to Pluto – the planet of intensity – now in Aquarius, which he says signals a global movement toward building communities. “I look forward to seeing that and hope that I am a part of that movement to make the world a better and more loving place.”

One of the most popular aspects of astrology is how it shapes people’s romantic and sexual lives. We’ve all heard the warnings that certain signs should never date — but are Aries and Cancers really doomed from the start? And what about the so-called “flawed” Geminis and Scorpios? (Of course, Geminis will end up ghosting you anyways). According to Thomas, while some signs may be more naturally compatible than others, that doesn’t mean any relationship is fated to fail. In fact, even the “perfect” matches can struggle: “At the end of the day, you could have two people who are astrologically perfectly compatible, yet the timing is off or they don’t wish to put in the effort. On the opposite end, you could have two people who are technically ‘less compatible’ astrologically, but if they’re willing to put in the time, effort, and work, it can still end up strong and profound as a relationship in the long run.”

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When it comes to self-identity, Thomas emphasizes that he is not defined solely by his sexuality. For him, astrology offers a lens into the many layers of the self. “There are many facets of who I am beyond just my sexuality,” Thomas tells the Blade. “My creativity, passion, sense of compassion, experiences, and awe within humanity, art, culture, and myth are cornerstones to who I am.”

Ultimately, Thomas finds that astrology is most powerful as a tool for self-discovery. “Astrology aids us in understanding ourselves, other people, and the world better.” He defines it as an art form that teaches us about who we are. For the LGBTQ+ community in particular, Thomas believes “astrology can fill in the gap and help us to make sense of the universe and potentially our purpose here on Earth, in history, and in the cosmos.”

So consider this your reading: your environment is alive with meaning, your individuality is sacred, your desires are worth thinking about, and your community is waiting for you. That’s what the stars, and Kyle Thomas, want you to know. And for all the Aquarians reading this, stop pretending you already knew this information.

Check out everything Kyle Thomas.

In the vibrant heart of West Hollywood’s nightlife, one name has become synonymous with electric performances and fearless self-expression: Prince Joshua. Known for his jaw-dropping gogo routines at world-famous venues like The Abbey, Joshua has long captivated queer bar-goers up and down the West Coast. But lately, it is not just his moves turning heads, it is his music.

Fresh off a double win at the Los Angeles Blade’s Readers Choice Awards, where he was named “Go-Go of the Year” and “Local Music Artist of the Year,” Joshua is keeping the momentum alive with his latest release, “QUAKE.” Dropping on his birthday, August 20, the high-energy single and self-directed music video are a celebration of individuality, confidence, and shaking off insecurities.

“‘QUAKE’ is for the bad bitches,” Joshua says with a smile. “It is about owning what makes you unique, living for your own approval, and letting go of anything that holds you back.”

This release follows the success of his debut EP Crowned, which dropped in January and offered a raw yet playful exploration of queer nightlife, dating, and self-love. The project’s six tracks and three music videos blended club-ready beats with deeply personal lyrics, marking Joshua’s arrival as a recording artist with something to say.

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Joshua’s artistry is rooted in his background as a performer. Originally from a small conservative town, his move to Los Angeles was an act of both self-preservation and self-celebration. “I grew up in a world that wasn’t made for someone like me,” he says. “But West Hollywood was made for people who express themselves through fashion, who are unapologetically queer. Here, the things I was bullied for are the things that are celebrated.”

He brings that same spirit to the stage, whether performing at WeHo Pride, SUMMERTRAMP, or in intimate club settings. His shows mix choreography, stunts, toe touches, splits, and costume changes, proving that gogo dancing is performance art at its finest. “While I respect the sex work industry, what I do is different. My performances come from a cheer background and combine music, movement, and fashion into one high-energy package.”

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With “QUAKE,” Joshua takes his vision even further. He wrote, produced, directed, and styled the project himself, weaving together elements of cheerleading, twerking, and bold visuals that radiate Leo-season confidence. It is a one-man production that showcases his versatility and commitment to his craft.

As he looks ahead to his next EP and more collaborations with fellow queer artists, Joshua’s message remains consistent. “Every day you get a chance to be yourself and inspire others to do the same,” he says. “This world is not always kind to us, but we have each other. So take up space, use your voice, share your art, and never let anyone dim your light.”

With moves that dazzle, bars that bite, and a creative vision that refuses to be boxed in, Prince Joshua is proving there is more than one way to rule the stage. And with “QUAKE,” he is making sure everyone feels the aftershocks.

Watch “QUAKE”

Belinda Carlisle thought this was going to be a calm summer. She says this now was a laugh.

Back in April, Carlisle reunited with The Go-Go’s at Coachella after the band’s last performance in 2022. What struck her was the young audiences that turned out knowing all the words — not the usual demographic for the band, she tells The Blade.

“It was like a feather in the cap. We got together for that festival, so I don’t think there’s going to be any more Go-Go’s, but I’ve learned you can never say never,” Carlisle says. “And I’m really blessed that people even care to talk to me, to be honest.”

But today, we’re not here to talk about The Go-Go’s. After the band’s public split in 1985, Carlisle transitioned into a high-profile solo career, one that continues with the release of her newest cover album, “Once Upon a Time in California,” on Aug. 29. As Carlisle switches gears — contributing to that not-so-calm summer she laughed about – she prepares to share tributes to iconic songs by The Carpenters (“Superstar”), Harry Nilsson (“Everybody’s Talkin”) and The Hollies (“The Air That I Breathe”) in a soulful tribute to home.

As a California native from Burbank and Thousand Oaks, Carlisle felt compelled to look back on her influences, and she started from a pool of a hundred songs. “The concept for this, first of all, were California radio songs that I loved,” Carlisle says, citing The Beach Boys. “I think we all wish we could have a time machine and go back in time … it’s more of a tribute to a dream of California and an idea.”

Carlisle hasn’t lived in California since 1994, when the devastating Northridge earthquake occurred, leaving her a spectator to the many changes the music industry has been through over the past three decades. Her new album arrives during a particularly tumultuous and deadly year for the state, with the wildfires that raged through the Palisades and the continued struggles in the film industry.

“It was inspiring to see people really step up to help others in the midst of so much loss and sadness — you could see humanity at work,” Carlisle says.

Beyond her music, Carlisle is constantly recognized for her allyship to the LGBTQ+ community. Her status as a gay icon became clear in the late ‘70s “punk days” while performing in The Go-Go’s. “My attitude was always, well, they have the best taste. I know it’s a cliché thing to say, but it’s true,” she says.

One of her biggest hits, “Heaven is a Place on Earth,” even became an official queer love anthem. In 2016’s “Black Mirror: San Junipero,” the song connects the two female protagonists who fall for each other, tying the story together thematically. While Carlisle admits to never getting around to watching the episode, she still recognizes its undeniable impact.

“It brought a whole new life to that song [from 1987]. It brought a whole new demographic of fans for me,” Carlisle says. “I heard that the way it’s used was really clever. And actually, the director of the episode had to have that song — that was what the whole episode was about. So I have to [finally] see it. I always kind of forget everything.”

A throughline in her decades-spanning career is Carlisle recognizing that allyship shouldn’t feel like a conscious effort. And that’s especially true in a year that has already seen countless attacks on queer and trans rights.

“Most of my friends are gay and lesbian, and I just always felt a real duty to do what I could,” Carlisle says. “I know that I will always continue to do what I can to be a voice for the community, especially having a son that’s being affected by all this.”

In a Los Angeles nightlife stacked with countless LGBTQ+ clubs and events, there’s never been a party quite like Queer Liberasian. 

For more than five years this showcase of Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) artistry has been a pillar of the DTLA queer scene. A combination of community fundraiser and nonstop party, the event (which takes place 2-4 times throughout the year) promises a raging dancefloor and a stage filled with the best AAPI talent Angelinos could ask for. Starting in 2018, it quickly gained national attention; whether it be a visit from openly queer South Asian idol, Lara Raj of Katseye, or donations of free product from makeup moguls like Patrick Starr, it has risen to become one of the most celebrated evenings of cultural talent in the country. But beyond being a fun, inclusive night out, what truly sets Queer Liberasian apart? Its founder, Andre Lawes Menchavez, sat down with the LA Blade to describe how this pulse-pounding evening of communal unity began the way most great things in life do: a queer person being extra. 

“[Back in 2018], I was a freshman in college,” Said Menchavez, reminiscing on the first time they hosted Queer Liberasian. “I had to do a leadership project [to create a community program] and I asked myself, ‘What do I care about?’ I thought about my organizing roots, my queer Asian identity, and how I’ve been dancing since I was a kid, and thought, ‘What’s a blend of all three of those things?’” And thus, the fundraiser was born, with the writer and community organizer turning a homework assignment into one of the most popular queer parties in LA. 

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Cultural nights aren’t uncommon in Los Angeles; numerous clubs, from Precinct DTLA to Beaches, boast evenings curated for specific identities and racial groups. But Menchavez’s goal was always to create something different, an evening of inclusivity that supports its patrons long after 2AM hits and they’re ushered out of the door. They clarify that profit was never the goal, saying “We’re using nightlife as an accessible way for people to get involved within community organizing…[with] 100% of ticket proceeds at every single show always going to a nonprofit.” It’s a selfless mentality (something almost entirely unheard of in the club scene) that has provided numerous organizations with vital funds — a type of support that these groups, and those they serve, need more than ever. 

“A lot of Queer Liberasian is in response to things that are happening in our climate right now,” The creator explained, delving into how the event has evolved in response to the increasingly hate-filled political climate. They detail how, with discriminatory voices becoming more and more vocal, it’s become even more important for LGBTQ+ folks to have places where they can feel truly safe in. “[Queer Liberasian] is a space of healing — it’s so hard to be out in the world, but when you come [in here], you’re swaddled with the warmth of knowing that you are accepted and seen.” They go on to describe how they’ve done things like host an “emergency party” quickly after the last election or prioritize donating funds to programs supporting the LGBTQ+-youth the current administration is targeting, all the while encouraging attendees to take the proud queer energy of this showcase into their own communities. It’s a kind of valuable, affirming organizing that reminds locals of their power while supporting numerous essential causes…and, as Menchavez proudly admits, it’s only possible because of him. 

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Whether it’s booking talent, reserving a venue, or purchasing every visual aspect of the show with their own money, the organizer works almost completely by themself to ensure each Queer Liberasian is the best it can be. Like every advocate, Andre has moments of burnout, of wondering if this is all worth it and if they should just take a break — but their community keeps them going. “[Whenever it feels too hard] my go-to is always to think about my ancestors and the people that have come before me,” they explained. “I’m Indigenous and Filipino, and both cultures have deep histories of struggle, violence, [and] queer erasure. They’ve overcome a lot, and I can, too.” 

Throughout this conversation, one thing quickly became clear: Los Angeles has never seen a party like Queer Liberasian. While many advocates are only now realizing that their community’s joy can be merged with the ongoing fight against discrimination, Menchavez has understood this since day one and curated an event centered around this revolutionary sentiment. It’s what created this showcase for artists who are too often overlooked, a fundraiser for organizations who fight tirelessly every day, and, perhaps most important of all, a time for Queer people in Los Angeles to remember that they are not alone in the ongoing fight for justice.  

It’s this mission that truly sets Queer Liberasian apart. Because as Menchavez made clear, yes, these are fun parties and a celebration of identity. But they’re also a reminder: in times when being LGBTQ+ is political, nothing is more radical than unabashed queer joy. 

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In an age where authenticity is currency and cannabis is culture, Loud and Proud is the ultimate crossover event. Popping off at The Abbey on Thursday, August 28th, this year’s festivities elevate the radical joy of queer and cannabis culture to a whole new level. With a lineup that serves up genre-bending music and advocacy, the Loud and Proud free community event gives way to inclusive expression. Light ‘er up, buttercup.

Enter S.I.A.T., the soulful multi-disciplinary artist behind SLAPTUAL sound (spiritual music that slaps), whose name (and ethos) was born from alignment with a dash of happenstance. Hailing from Sacramento but flying on a frequency entirely her own, S.I.A.T. joins the Loud and Proud music festival to perform for and connect with her fellow citizens of the world, bringing her unapologetic authenticity, R&B realness, and healing energy to a sea of folks ready to vibe to something real. We had the chance to connect with S.I.A.T. ahead of her performance to talk about cannabis, community, and what it means to claim your voice, even if you’re still stuck in a tree.

In our interview, she shares how cannabis, community, and compassion fuel both her art and her mission to connect with people on a healing frequency.

You’re performing at Loud and Proud: Tracing the Smoke Back to Its Source on August 28th at The Abbey. How does the event’s theme — celebrating cannabis and inclusive spaces — resonate with your personal values and artistic identity?

I think it’s really beautiful. While I might not be directly part of the LGBTQIA+ community, I absolutely believe that music, cannabis, and all kinds of spaces should be inclusive and expansive — open to people from all walks of life. That’s something I truly strive to express in my music.

I make spiritual music, and I intentionally create it for people who may not be at the end of their healing journey, or who might not have the “right” language or understanding yet. You’ve got to meet people where they are and make them feel welcome at any stage. That’s something I believe is essential in any community — making sure there’s something for everyone, no matter who walks through the door.

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Your tracks like “Stay In My Lane,” “Where’s the Lie,” and “Thoughts of You” offer this balance of vulnerability and strength. How do you approach merging emotional honesty with slick R&B production?

Honestly? I don’t put too much thought into it — that’s just who I am. Speaking my truth comes naturally. Music is a form of manifestation. What you say in music has the power to become reality, so I use it as a way to shape experiences into something beautiful and real.

R&B is a perfect fit for that — it’s my natural vibe. I grew up on the genre and all its evolutions. So it just aligns with me and the kind of emotion I want to express.

Can you think of a moment where you wrote a lyric that made you stop and go, “Whoa — I really said that”?

Yes, actually! In “Where’s the Lie,” I wrote:
“Sometimes I lose my ways — that’s the heart in me. But if I don’t choose myself, I’ll lose a part of me.”

When I wrote it, it flowed out naturally. But sitting with it later, I realized how powerful it was. We’re human. We make mistakes, we give too much, or not enough — that’s part of life. But if you don’t actively choose yourself, if you don’t make that conscious decision to prioritize your own growth and well-being, you risk losing your spark, your motivation, even your identity.

At the time, I was in a season of finally choosing myself. I remember thinking, “Okay… who do I think I am?!” [laughs]

Dream collab — past or present. Who would it be, and why?

Erykah Badu. Easily.

She came into the neo-soul space with a completely unique sound — people compared her to Billie Holiday, who also had a style that was unfamiliar at the time but absolutely undeniable. Badu never let adversity dim her light. Her lyricism, her musical choices, the way she hears melody — it’s visionary. She’s had a huge influence on me, and I admire her so much.

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You’re originally from Sacramento. How has your local scene — and that “slap show” sound — shaped your musical path?

Sacramento is where it all began for me. When I started, I was more involved in the visual arts scene — painting, fashion, sculpture. It was a really immersive and supportive space. As I transitioned into music, I found another layer of community.

“Slap show music” actually came from a TikTok moment! I made a video and said, “I make spiritual music that slaps.” A woman commented, half-joking, “Oh, so you make slap show music? Please don’t block me!” [laughs] I was like… wait, that’s genius.

The name stuck. Just like “Stuck In A Tree” — my artist name — which also came to me through my creative process and community. Everything I’ve built stems from that foundation in Sacramento.

Tell me more about the name “Stuck In A Tree.” It’s so memorable.

It started back in high school. I was always artsy — a painter, designer, sculptor — and when Instagram was still new, I made my handle “StuckInATree.” I got that name because my art teacher used to label our tables by animal personality. I was at the squirrel table — I guess I had that squirrely, high-energy vibe!

When I started doing music in 2018, I told the studio my name was “Stuck In A Tree,” and they abbreviated it to “S.I.A.T.” I didn’t even realize it until someone came in, saw it, and said, “Yo, SI — that’s a fire name.” And it clicked. I thought, “Okay, I’m SI now.” [laughs] It all felt given to me — like pieces of a bigger picture.

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Back to Loud and Proud — the event connects cannabis and culture. How do you see cannabis intersecting with creative expression and liberation?

For so long, cannabis was criminalized, hidden, even though it grows from the earth and offers so many healing benefits. The LGBTQIA+ community has faced similar experiences — being misunderstood, pushed aside, and denied autonomy.

Now, both are reclaiming space. Cannabis is becoming recognized for its healing properties, and LGBTQIA+ individuals are increasingly able to live openly and joyfully. These worlds intersect through expression, healing, and authenticity. Events like this highlight how far we’ve come — and how much more expansive our culture can be when we embrace freedom and reject judgment.

What does owning your voice as a woman of color mean to you? What do you want the next generation to take from your journey?

Owning my voice gives me an endless flow of confidence. It’s not always easy — but every time I show up as myself, I’m an example for another young girl who looks like me. I want her to know: you don’t have to wait for permission.

I believe representation is power. When you see someone who shares your background doing something you’ve dreamed of, it lifts invisible weights. It’s no longer “impossible” — it’s within reach. That’s what I want to pass on.

What’s something your younger self believed that you’ve completely rewritten?

My dad used to say, “Sweetie, not everyone is like us.” I didn’t get it at the time, but now I do. I’ve always been giving, genuine, and trusting — and I used to think everyone operated that way. I’ve learned to protect that part of myself.

Being kind is a gift, not a weakness. I wish I had seen that earlier — that these traits are actually my superpowers. They deserve to be guarded and given wisely.

What role do events like Loud and Proud play in shaping the future of entertainment — and society?

They break boundaries. Events like this cross-pollinate — music, cannabis, healing, community. I’m actually being sponsored for the first time by Tree X Lines, a beautiful company that advocates for connection and culture, and it’s such a full-circle moment for me.

We’re moving into a future where gatekeeping is fading. Independent artists like myself are running our own labels, building real communities, and showing that you don’t need a corporation to validate your art. It’s about collaboration — not competition.

What can fans expect from your performance? Are there any songs you’re especially excited to share?

Vibes, energy, connection — I’m coming to really meet people where they are. I’ll be performing fan favorites like “Stay in My Lane” and “Where’s the Lie,” but I’m also previewing two unreleased tracks from my upcoming debut album, Space Cadet.

One of those songs is called “Doing Me,” and it’s like “Stay in My Lane,” but with top-down, valley-girl-in-L.A. energy. It’s giving sunshine, clarity, and confidence — and I can’t wait to share it.

What message do you hope fans take from your music and story?

Honestly, the messages I’ve gotten from fans say it better than I ever could. People tell me my music helped them through depression, made them better parents, helped them leave toxic relationships, or reconnect with their power.

When I first put my music out, I was just trying to feel better. I didn’t have some grand mission. But now I see that showing up authentically — and vulnerably — gives others permission to do the same. That’s what my music does. It becomes their affirmation, their self-talk, their transformation.

What’s next for S.I.A.T? What can we expect in the near future?

Big things. I just launched my independent label, Slap Show Music Records, and I’m building a platform that supports not just musicians but artists of all kinds — producers, poets, designers, community leaders.

My 11-track debut album Space Cadet is on the way. There may or may not be a local tour brewing. Definitely merch. Definitely more collabs. I want to use this platform to uplift others, break down industry walls, and keep expanding this community in a meaningful way.

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Loud and Proud is FREE, RSVP HERE.

Thursday, August 28th, 6 – 9 pm,

The Abbey: 692 N ROBERTSON BLVD, WEST HOLLYWOOD

For decades and centuries, powerful institutions, governments, and cultural forces have deliberately erased our stories. They have tried to rewrite the record, to silence our voices, and to make our existence invisible. Today, this erasure takes new forms: laws banning trans books, curricula wiped clean of our narratives, and efforts to erase us from public life altogether. Yet despite these attacks, trans history remains alive and accessible if you know where to look and who is telling the story.

At the forefront of this resistance is artist and filmmaker Zackary Drucker. Through her groundbreaking work, she does more than tell stories; she reclaims history. “I’m not in it for me. I’m in it for the justice. I’m in it for creating more equality. Equality is very important to me—that we all are able to live in parity with each other,” Drucker told me. This commitment animates every film, every story, and every archive she restores, reminding us that trans history is not just about remembering the past but shaping a more equitable future.

“I sought out the legends in the queer community because they made me feel anchored,” Drucker said. “Having intergenerational relationships — it’s the best stuff in life.” That instinct to look to elders, absorb their wisdom, and carry their stories forward animates all of Drucker’s work.

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Take Disclosure, the 2020 documentary she co-produced, which exposes the powerful role media has played in shaping how trans people are seen, often as stereotypes, villains, or punchlines. “As opponents to our rights assert that we popped up ten years ago,” Drucker explained, “the only offset to that is to highlight examples from deep history and say, actually, that is not true.” The film makes clear that representation is not neutral. The stories told on screens large and small have real consequences for our lives.

In Framing Agnes, Drucker turns to another hidden archive: the trans people who participated in early gender research studies in the 1960s. For years, their experiences were reduced to clinical notes and case files, erased from public memory. But through reenactment and personal testimony, she and her collaborators restore their voices. “One of us can’t do it singularly,” she said. “It really is strength in numbers.” The film becomes a reminder that history is not lost. It is waiting in the archives, waiting to be reclaimed.

The Stroll brings us back to the streets of New York’s Meatpacking District, a vanished neighborhood where trans women of color carved out community and joy despite relentless policing and violence. The neighborhood’s erasure through gentrification mirrors broader societal attempts to erase trans lives. “Our predecessors are speaking through us at this point because we’re here,” Drucker reflected. “And I realized today — now it’s me. Now it’s you. Now we have to tell these stories. It’s up to us to keep them alive.”

Her latest work, Enigma, delves into the intertwined lives of two trans icons whose histories speak to the complexities of identity, secrecy, and legacy. Set against the backdrop of a legendary Parisian nightclub, the film explores how trans people have forged sisterhood and sanctuary even when the world sought to silence them. “Being stealth gave some people safety,” Drucker told me, “but it also meant erasing yourself to be accepted.” For Drucker, the film is about reclaiming those hidden lives and making them visible again. “We need reminders that we’ve always been here, and that we have a future worth fighting for.”

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What unites all of these works is not just their artistry, but their urgency. “Hope is central to survival,” Drucker said. “We won’t survive without it.” In a time when it would be easy to give in to despair, Drucker reminds us that reclaiming history is not just about remembering the past. It is about sustaining our future.

This Trans History Month, as forces still work to erase us, let us remember that our history is not only a record of struggle but also a source of strength and identity. It is ours to reclaim, to share, and to celebrate. Through films, art, and storytelling, trans people are ensuring that our history is never lost again. And as Drucker puts it with a touch of whimsy and profound truth: “At the last—the last human on Earth, they’ll be telling their story to a squirrel. Humans will tell stories forever.”

Check out the full interview: