Sometimes...ok...a lot (I know, I'm pathetic, but you can kiss my ass anyway)of times, I wonder if there is a flea's chance on my pit bull's butt that I'm EVER going to have a fraction of the readers they have.
Probably not...*sigh*.
I guess, that until then, I'm going to have to "make my happy". And you know how we do that around here y'all??? We dragulate. What the hay-ell is dragulate you ask??? It's when you let RuPaul and his gift for the fabulous, transform you (or some unsuspecting soul of whom you just happen to have a facial photo) into a FABULOUS DRAG QUEEN!!!! What the deuce?!!! Hell yeah!
So here's my shot--funny shit y'all.
Meet Pixie Truman. I love her (except that it sort of annoys me a little bit that I know a man took the model shot for the body and it's sort of AWESOME! And why do I bother even working out at all, if my "goal body" is a man? I'm pretty sure that's gonna require surgery & drugs y'all. But I digress.)
This was sooo much fun. Even more fun??? The first damn thought that popped into my head--Ooooohhhh...Jason would make a CUTE queen!
How many crazy cows do you know that would, first of all, have the thought to turn their s.o. into a drag queen; and second, to actually spend 30 minutes on the computer while he was out driving from store to store trying to find the new Tinkerbell DVD, because it was sold out EVERYWHERE, just because he adores your child (one that he did not "donate" to) and wants her to be happy????
Well, now you know at least one, for sure. I'm going to hell y'all. First class.
This is Dainty Moline. Ain't she pretty?!
You know what makes me wonder about myself most? That I'm less disturbed by the image of Jason in drag than my own, and all because I envy my drag queen's body.
*Sigh* I need therapy.
Until next time...
B~
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