Thursday, December 2, 2010

I Apologize For Quoting Beyonce

Let me start this post with a snippet of a Beyonce song: "If I were a boooooyyyy..."

Julie Andrews, pretending to be a male drag queen in
Victor/Victoria. When I was younger, I used to pray that she'd adopt me
and whisk me away to Austria and sing me goatherd lullabies.
Don't roll your eyes at me, thinking, "Geez, she's gonna talk about how she wishes she were a boy because menstrual cramps suck." Yes, that's obvious, and I'm not going to talk about it. I'm also not going to talk about how men are called "studs" and women are called "sluts." Everyone knows that. I will tell you that sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I were a boy because I'm not as amazing as Julie Andrews. She can pull off pretending to be a guy pretending to be a girl, but I'm not quite as talented.

As you've undoubtedly noticed throughout my posts, I have a thing for drag queens. Let me rephrase: I have a thing for good drag queens. I only like drag queens that actually look like women. And before you go all "whoa, I don't want to hear about your sexual fantasies!" let me clarify. I am fascinated with drag queens. I don't necessarily want to rip their thongs off with my teeth (unless it's Tim Curry's circa 1975). I just want to go backstage with them, allow them to do my makeup, and join them onstage for a Whitney number. Oh, and I want biceps and a bulge in my crotch, just for fun.

I have quite the dilemma you see: I am a girl. I guess I could dress as a drag king -- but where's the fun in that? Sure, wearing a suit and slapping on a fake stache is liberating, but not nearly as fun as super-huge eyelashes, 5-inch heels, and fake boobs (I'm sure many guys would argue that the penis tuck is not fun, however). And lord knows that I could use some eyelashes, a pair of heels, and some boobs, because I am definitely lacking in all three.

No, I wouldn't call this a gender identity crisis. I don't actually want to be a boy. Boys are gross. All of the ones I've encountered in real life are douchebags/sleep in pizza boxes/cannot spell. (FYI: I know this is very stereotypical/false/unreasonable but very truthful/accurate/real for all the men I've dated. So, don't get your patriarchal panties in a knot, people). Plus, boy parts are gross. 

"If I were a booooyyy...I would have boy parts that I'd have to look at every time I take a pee and I would be grossed out..... whoa oooohh whoa."
Okay, maybe that was a bit offensive. If a guy said, "eewww, girl parts are gross!" I'd be offended. 

Anyways, I guess I'll never be able to have my wish of becoming a drag queen fulfilled. Also, the drag shows in my small city SUCK. I guess I'll just live vicariously through my favourite ones. Sigh. A girl can dream, right? Or rather, a girl who wants to be a guy so he/she can dress up like a girl can dream, right?

I will now leave you with RuPaul, who in my opinion, is the best of the best. And yes, the juxtaposition of the image to the above right & the one of Beyonce was completely intentional.


  1. I dressed up as Sporty Spice once. When I was 15. That said, she wasn't exactly feminine was she?

  2. RuPaul sometimes even looks better than Beyonce! Like what's going on on the side of Beyonce's face? Looks like her skin is peeling off!

    If you wanna live amongst drag queens, move to San Francisco! We have a lot of beautiful ones up here :)

  3. A friend of mine just moved from here to Toronto and attended her first Christmas drag show in the Village. I've never missed the big city more than when I was getting texted pics of the incredible performers. If I ever need to get a makeover, I'm not going to MAC...I'm getting me a Queen (how do they get all the sparkles to stay in place?!? -- teach me!!). Great post!

  4. TbR - Sporty Spice was the one Spice Girl nobody wanted to be. Sorry to break it to ya. But she does look pretty hot now, compared to the rest of them.

    Tsaritsa - I'm on my way to San Francisco. Asap.

    Jennie - I'm moving to Toronto in a year so maybe I'll have a similar experience? Hopefully! And how do they get all the sparkles to stay in place? Or their makeup from sweating off? Or their junk neatly tucked? Hmmm.....