Our token Gay Blogger and my personal friend (only because I’m still clinging to the hope he will come play for our team…I heard he has a big wang) has been kind enough to grace us with another post via email. Clubs! Cocaine! Drag Queens! Read on….

I went to this drag bar last night and I was in the bathroom doing lines with this one performer, Kitty Litter. The funny thing about her is that during rest of the week she is actually a teacher at rather conservative Catholic high school but one night a week she gets all decked out in sequins and lip-syncs to Donna Summer songs for a bunch of screaming queens. If that’s what the teacher is doing, god only knows what the principle of that school does on his Tuesday nights.

So anyways, she and I are in the bathroom and she’s re-applying her makeup, (and of course by re-applying, I mean putting on foundation by the pound and making sure that her glittery hot-pink lipstick hasn’t smeared while she was wiping her nose) and I come to the realization that drag queens have a really fucked up idea of what a woman is. Now, I’m not going to get all fourth wave feminist on you (or whatever the hell wave those dykes are on) but I realized that these queens really have no idea what a woman is.

I know, I know they are supposed to be portraying a parody of a woman but not even the trashiest, whorish, cracked-out slut of woman would be caught dead wearing what these drag queens were wearing. No woman with any shred of self-respect or dignity would ever in a million years look like these drag queens. She would have to be the absolute bottom of the barrel, the most meth addicted piece of shit to even remotely resemble Kitty Litter or any other female impersonator.

Kitty Litter has the same eyebrows as Fergie.

Smooch!

Julien

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