He rises and turns: nose, mouth and chin covered in white foam, arms raised triumphantly. “Stand up and show everybody what it’s like to be a man!” Glancing down again, she laughs, her serious-sensual façade breaking into giddiness. His face descends and Everett’s legs gyrate like Elvis in an earthquake. “Eat it, eat it.”Įverett gives the can a vigorous shake, traces a frothy line up her black panties, and interlaces her fingers behind his head. Everett grins down at the audience member she’s targeted. “Eat it, eat it,” she sings, repeating her song’s titular chorus.Ī backup singer presents a can of whipped cream. Inching forward on thighs and buttocks, her calves encircle a man seated front and center. “Short one, long one, doesn’t matter/Just suck on that bean, watch it get fatter/You’ve had a bad day, you’re feeling like shit/You want to beat something up? Beat up this clit/Here’s the combination to my lovely lady locker/She’ll pop in your mouth like Orville Redenbacher.”Įverett tosses aside the flopping pink dildo she’d earlier suctioned to the adjacent table and moves a couple’s drinks to safety. “Hit the track!” Bridget Everett growls as she lowers herself to the lip of the Joe’s Pub stage, lifting the hem of her flowing silver gown to flash the sold-out crowd in time to the slinky r&b beat. Everett describes her rapport with Joe's Pub audiences as "fucking 200 people, and we're going to have coffee in the morning!" All photos by C.S.
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