Michael Phelps’ trans paramour

Joan Rivers’ favorite holiday was always Thanksgiving. Each year, she would begin the day by delivering food for God’s Love We Deliver (in more recent years, she was joined by her grandson, Cooper). She’d return home in time to welcome dozens of friends and colleagues to her home for a sumptuous spread. Last week, daughter Melissa continued the tradition. She and Cooper did the morning food deliveries and then had Joan’s regular posse to the Upper East Side penthouse one last time for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner — this year, giving thanks that Joan had touched all of their lives. Classy, classy.

Have you read about Olympian Michael Phelps and his self-proclaimed girlfriend, Taylor Lianne Chandler? She gained attention after revealing on Facebook that, “I was born with male genitalia with no testicles, but I also have a uterus and no ovaries.” The name on her birth certificate is David Roy Fitch. From her earliest memory, she behaved and dressed as a girl. She went on testosterone blockers and estrogen as a teenager. She legally changed her name to Paige Victoria Whitney. Eventually, she had gender reassignment surgery in her 20s. Fast forward to this year: Taylor claims that she met Phelps on Tinder (which is kinda like Grindr for straight people). Michael invited her to his Baltimore home to watch a football game — because, apparently, that’s what straight people do when they’re cruising for sex. According to Taylor, “We made love during halftime” — well, who hasn’t? She continues, “Later, we had sex again. The intimacy with him was amazing! It was the first time in my life that someone has made me feel like a true woman.”

What Taylor neglected to do was explain her “situation” to Phelps. “I never lied to him. We were together for such a short period of time, I never had a chance to tell him about my life.” Or did she? In a later interview, she says, “I told my story to Michael a day before I posted it on my private Facebook and then public.” Seems to me that she has a rather fluid grasp of facts. Days later, she posted this: “Heard from Michael he is out of rehab and back home.” Then she told a reporter that she has not heard from him.

Critics point out that there are no photos of the two of them together, nor has Phelps ever mentioned her name. Is this all a fantasy? Taylor insists that she has what she describes as “forensic” proof of their relationship. While I’m sure you have visions of a blue dress dancing in your head, it’s nothing quite so prurient. “My phone with the messages between Michael and I is locked up in a safety deposit box in Florida. I also have a 17,000-page forensic report showing everything — all the geo scans, the cellphone tower signals, the pings. And they’re coming from his phone.” How dull!

Now, time for the first of my annual Billy’s Holiday Gift Giving Suggestions.

If you find yourself in NYC at some point over the holidays, I cannot recommend anything more thrilling than seeing the legendary Lypsinka, except for seeing the legendary Lypsinka in three shows. Yes, running in repertoire is Lypsinka! The Box Set (her greatest hits show), The Passion of the Crawford (where she seamlessly portrays Joan Crawford being interviewed), and John Epperson: Show Trash (where Lyppie’s alter ego regales with bon mots from his travails). This is the first time all three shows have run in repertoire, aptly called Lypsinka! The Trilogy. Seeing some of the pieces that really put her on the map was a special treat — This Is My Life with the box of cereal, the drunken “12 Days of Christmas,” the phone calls … it was a joy to behold. The Crawford show is a study in nuances, which is riveting. As always, Lypsinka’s attention to detail is hysterical. If Faye Dunaway closed the coffin on how Crawford would be remembered, Lypsinka nails it good and tight! Special mention must be paid to Scott Witman (half of the team that wrote Hairspray), who plays the interviewer with eerie aplomb. To call Lypsinka unique is an understatement; she stands head and shoulders above all others.

My second gift suggestion doesn’t require any traveling. I’m sure you’ve heard about kegels, an exercise women do to strengthen their pelvic floor. But there’s not been an exercise for your penis … until now. Filling that void is the Private Gym, the pelvic muscle exercise system for men. Their package (such as it is) includes a book, a DVD, and a specially designed weight that you attach to the end of your erect penis. Using your penile muscle, you raise and lower this weight —basically you’re flexing your penis. It’s hard … as it should be! Believe it or not, this system is actually the first FDA registered men’s kegel regimen.

I’m sure you’re asking yourself, why do I have to exercise my penis? What if I told you that using this product will help you maintain an erection, reduce premature ejaculation, and even give you a better orgasm? There’s a video on their website featuring gay porn stars Johnny Hazzard and Austin Wilde demonstrating the versatility of this device. Take it from Billy: the Private Gym is the perfect gift for that special someone … or yourself.

Perhaps the people at the Private Gym should try to get their product stocked in 7-11. It might be a good fit. After all, what does one make of an employee of the convenience store whiling away the hours by pleasuring himself, videotaping it, and circulating the video?

You can check him out on

Our Ask Billy question comes from Thom in Denver: “I recently saw some hot photos of that guy Ashley from O-Town. He looks amazing. What is he doing these days, other than working out?

For those of you who can’t place him, Ashley Parker Angel, pictured, was a member of the pop group O-Town, featured on the reality show Making the Band (usually filmed naked in the shower — on order of Lou Pearlman, no doubt). When O-Town reunited earlier this year, Ash decided he didn’t want to go backwards. OK, so his solo album didn’t really go anywhere. But he had quite a bit of success in the Broadway production of Hairspray. Since then, he’s continued to court interest with a number of provocative photos, letting us know that even if he wasn’t working, he was definitely working out. And it all paid off. Ashley has just joined the national touring company of Wicked playing Fiyero. So perhaps you’ll soon see him in a city near you.

When I’m getting a hankering for a 7-11 hot dog and a Big Gulp, we’ve definitely come to the end of yet another column. Ah, the holidays are here. Time for making merry, being gay and bright. If you’ve got a question, feel free to send it along and I promise to get back to you before Ashley Parker Angel becomes the Private Gym spokesman.

Until next time, remember: One man’s filth is another man’s bible.

Have a question for Billy? Send an email to him at

This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition December 5, 2014.