"SHOW ME YER BALLS~!"
That's what I was screaming out two weeks ago. At least that's what I was told I was
screaming. Hi, my name is Lindy. I'm 22 and I'm part Irish and my people are
known to drink just a little. Every now and then I like to live up to my cultural
heritage, go out to my favorite club, and have my dear friends drag me out after last
call. Usually by the middle of the night I'm standing near the stage as a show is
going on, screaming to the show hostess to let me see her testicles. Of course this
would usually be a huge insult to a hostess, but in my case the "hostesses" are
never girls. They only look like them.
On top of my screaming, I was more than willing to do what I could for more drinks,
especially if they were free. With my inhibitions down, I yelled up at my favorite
queen and was brought on stage to earn my chance at a drink ticket. Brought on stage
with me was someone not a girl and not yet a woman. Her name was "Sticky
Stephanie." If I slip into my Gloria Stuart, I can say, "I don't even have
a picture of her." She exists now only in memory. The truth is that I do have a
picture. I have a few. Three drinks into the night and I'm on stage in front
of everyone making out with a drag queen for drink tickets.
God bless you Sticky Stephanie.
It's not really a big confession to say that I'm a fag hag. I say the title with
pride. I've been called every name for it, from fruit fly to fairy collector,
because I guess they know I like Zelda. I've run out of bottles. My cousin
Brendan, who I mention in my Godzilla article, was my first best friend and very
close to me until I was at least 8 or 9. I blame his strict parents and them being
born-again Christian and homophobic, but I swear to God that he's in the closet. My
first big crush in grade school was to a boy in my class who came out in high school.
My first real friend I made THERE (who I'm still friends with to this day) came out
of the closet two years ago. He's the one who took me to my first gay club, Bounce.
I call him Paris Hilton because of the way he works through Bounce and seems to
know everyone. One of the people who is close enough to me to be my little brother
is gay. I've known him as he went from curious to Bi to full on Lady Bic.
There are many beside these four, they were just around the longest. Gay men are
just an inevitable part of my life. I should know. I've dated a few that had
their toes on the line. They weren't quite to the John Edwards stage of crossing
over, nor did they have the bravery of Sweet Jesus.
My family has a cottage in Cape Cod, so many summers were spent there and in Provincetown.
Think of Provincetown like the San Francisco of the east coast. It was an
interesting experience going there for the first time. It's where I first saw men
holding hands with other men. It's also where I saw my first drag queen. Up
and down Commercial Street there are small theaters and restaurants where they have
performances; this is where I first saw her. (Oh, and for quick reference: when drag
queens are in drag, they're referred to as "she" and out of drag as
"he"). As far as I know, she still is doing performances. She travels up
and down the street on a tiny motorized scooter dressed like Cher from her "If I
Could Turn Back Time" video.
And so my real fascination began.
I had seen RuPaul on MTV before. She was the Amazon that stood apart from all of the
other musicians looking beautiful and glamorous. She was made out of clay and had an
invisible airplane. From that moment on I was fascinated by seeing gay men in
dresses. They're almost an anomaly, existing apart from status quo of both the
general straight and gay population. They can put on makeup better than I can, they
can accessorize better than me and they can do hair like it's nobody's business.
I've always been a bit of a tomboy growing up. Makeup and dresses for me are mostly
rare occurrences, and I could probably name every time I've had either on from the time I
was 13 until now. My drag queen friends are an extension of me. They take over
for that extra bit of girl that wasn't there.
In my years of exposure to various drag queens, I've seen the good and the very, very bad.
I can tell the difference between camp drag and glam drag. They've given me
an appreciation for MAC makeup and designer shoes. As much as I love Cleveland at
times, I'll be the first to admit the many things it's lacking. When the things your
city is famous for is a burning river, LeBron James, a baseball team that hasn't won a
World Series since 1948 and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, you're limited in the places
you can go and the people you can see. We're the #9 fattest city and the #12 most
dangerous and a lot of the men seem to look like Drew Carey. You want to know what's
terrifying? Seeing guys that look like Drew Carey and Ryan Stiles in dresses and
makeup. Whose vagina is it anyway?
Okay Wayne Brady, now you're a transvestite hooker. SING LIKE JAMES BROWN.
There are queens that I think are good and others that I'd rather never have to look at
again. Thanks to Bounce and Columbus (another city with a large gay population), I
seem to have my pick of every single type. Due to the wonderfully awful availability
of various glamour shots of these drag queens of Ohio, I want to share with you my
opportunity to laugh at those I love because that's what I do best.
Choose Your Own Joke:
For beginning readers: I don't think this is the first time she's worn a
For advanced readers: I can't believe how much blush she used to shape
her face. You know it's bad when your face looks like it has more sharp ridges than
the Old Man of the Mountain. Previous to its collapse, of course.
Hey look, it's every episode of Home Improvement I ever watched. As
you can see, it's not a good thing to pose like you're taking your high school senior
portrait. See what I mean about the Drew Carey factor? You know that you
wanted to be classy when your portrait looks like it was staged at Olive Garden.
Soup, salad and glamour shots, $10.99. This queen looks like she's sitting at
a table trying to recruit people for a sorority. I don't think I'd like to join one
where eyelash curling was part of rushing. I'm usually forgiving to all kinds of
drag queens, but this one really looks like your ugly guy friend who lost a bet.
Note the sweatshirt she's wearing instead of a more feminine outfit. Maybe
she had all of her best dresses at the dry cleaners that day, I don't know.
Hey look, Angel Dumott Schunard just came back from the Hell Dimension.
This is Stephanie Giselle. I wish I could've known more about her, but
before one of her performances a lion jumped out from the bush and killed her. She reminds
me of a West Side Story, growing up in Spanish Harlem. This
is an interesting look.
I'm glad to know where Chyna got her makeup tips.
Why didn't Christopher Knight want a piece of that?
Camera flashes that are set off too close to someone's face can often illuminate your
features in unflattering ways. This is one of those cases where I can honestly say that
darkness is a good friend. Her lips alone are terrifying. It looks like the Warhol
designed Rolling Stones logo with pink gloss on. Is it just me or do I feel like I'm
staring at a Moai statue with makeup?
I would never be with a boy (or a girl) who looked like this. Ever.
Even if I was Jesse L. Martin the only way I'd "cover" her is with a
machine gun, and then only if we were old war buddies.
Mrs. Garrett has something to put in you.
This lady here taught me about the dangers of Gargals and psychics.
I'm proud to say that I'm a God Warrior now. Ramona West here looks like she
is exploding out of a matador's chest. I know the stereotype is that gay men know
about fashion, but come on! She looks like she was one of the lunch ladies at my
grade school. The type that would watch us all eat our bag lunches at our desks and
flip the lights on and off whenever we'd get too loud or unruly. I like to imagine
her walking around her apartment in Capri pants singing Olivia Newton John songs. I
would be looking to see how well she did her breasts up for this shot, but I'm too busy
trying to find her first chin.
Her mouth looks like she stuck a pair of novelty wax lips to her face with strawberry jam.
And she looks like a Sand Worm. I wonder if I could get sucked in and if I
would find Gogo chilling in her stomach.
That is scary.
Her hair looks like it's made out of fiber optics. It's nice to know that during the
summer, Six Flags and Cedar Point employ drag queens to distribute glow sticks and
collapsible plastic light swords.
Despite the fact that Krystal St. Clair hasn't finished pruning this hedge
maze, she's still delighted to see you! It's wonderful to see a drag queen taking
makeup tips from Hugo Weaving. Someday you'll see her traveling through Australia in
an old bus to make it to a hotel gig. I hope you all like ABBA!
Krystal took that jacket into Michael's and went a little crazy with the
glitter. I guess she's tired of people who pass by asking her if she's okay,
assuming that Reba McEntire has fallen and bumped her head on an ENORMOUS DOG.
This is what happens when Shoeless Joe comes out of the cornfield and
Ray's too busy jumping rope to play catch with his Dad.
Apparently someone stole sunglasses from hhhhhHollywood. Mannequin
II: On the Move is more popular than I thought. You have to hand it
to David Ortiz here for trying to be inventive with her flaming Dracula outfit. It
must be homage to her past when she used to be in Harlem Heat.
I went and saved the body hair for last. This is an example of how
someone in drag can be convincing and pretty and have it thrown off with one terrible
photograph. My knee-jerk reaction (named so because I'm a jerk and I slapped my knee
after making a joke) was to say "Sasquatch lives!" I'm instead wondering
if those are earrings she's wearing or if she's just a Trill. Maybe this picture was
taken after Arnold Schwarzenegger took her out of hiding to testify against the crooked
This is the most utilitarian of the queens because she can use her rainbow
to paint with all the colors of the wind. Hustler magazine and other Vanessa L.
Williams jokes. The "L" stands for LAUGHTER.
and also lynn
Attractive Female Wanted.
How joyous an occasion! It's so wonderful to see that Kevin James and Lita Ford
finally consummated their relationship. Miss Sable Coate takes fashion to the movies with
her impersonation of Aslan. Something like this would make any White Witch run
scared. She's proof the Blondes Have More Fun! I'm hoping next time I see her
that she'll bring over some of her homotown records. I know she's a big fan of the
Great American Schlong Book. If you're having trouble figuring out the certain
gender of any queen, I have a tip that I use: First I Look at the Purse. I'm sure
she makes many debuting queens remember When We Were the New Boys.
Chronicles of Narnia Jokes - 1
Rod Stewart Jokes - 6
Point, match Stewart. I guess all of those old rumors about getting semen pumped out
of his stomach may have paid off.
more like faggy may
Amongst the terrible and terrible looking queens in Ohio, there are some that are good
ones and those that I enjoy going to see. There are those that I have been friendly
or made friends with. I've visited one at work because I know how nice it is to get
someone you know to show up when you're at a boring job. He ended up doing my
makeup. If I want to go with colored eye shadow, I should pick something in a soft
Thanks for the tip, Jherri Michaels! It's kind of like how
professional wrestling has been explained to me. You watch so much of it and see so
many bad matches, but when you finally see something good it's worth it. That's why
for every 10 Dixie Chicks I get to see someone like Jherri, or Sierra
Seville or Heda Lettuce.
Without drag queens and gay men I'd be missing part of my history, my past and myself.
My tastes would be different and most importantly, I wouldn't be so up to date on
all of the latest pop hits, like the Pussycat Dolls' song, "Don't Cha."
"Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?"
"Don't cha wish your girlfriend was fun like me?"
Well, I'm covered in blue lipstick and I look like I just got raped by a
Smurf. Rapey Smurf.