UPDATE, 100 Things…eventually

I’ve added a new one to the list.

36. Wear red lipstick as often as possible. No excuses.

Don’t be a pussy, just apply the lipstick. Stop with these flesh toned colors. Unless your eyes are done up like a Queens, you need more than a nude lip.


Thank you. You’re welcome. Bend over. Fuck off.

I don’t know what it is about me, but I am irresistible to men of color and older white men. The Hispanic men love me, the Middle Eastern men love me, and the black  men love me.  Oh, I forgot hippies, they love me too. The older white dudes, like most white men, are hard to read.  Sometimes they stare, hard, from across the way.  Or they peek at me through a magazine or book.  I suppose, they’re being discreet.  Discretion is not at all what the other gentlemen practice. They are blatant and abruptly to their point. Which, in the end,  their point is a compliment, I think.  And, like the lady I am I accept graciously.

Today, such an abrupt moment happened.  I was waiting to board the bus when an older (50-60) black man approached me.  He said, “Thank you.”  Remember I have my ear buds in, so I removed them and replied, “What’s that?”  He repeated, “Thank you.”  I said, “For what?”  My suitor says, “For showing that figure off.”  The only thing to say was, “Thank you.”  Then he started in, it’s like they can’t contain their words.  He told me I was the kind of woman that makes a man cheat.  Again, your welcome and onto the bus I went.

This got me thinking about the other lines I’ve heard in the past. And I know this sort of thing happens to others. You know who you are, my fellow hookers.  Ms. K is a prime example.  We’ve been together and heard some things from dudes that is fucking ridiculous. I guess they think they’re complimenting us, or telling us about their “powers”, I don’t know. Maybe we have friendly faces or maybe its are boobies.  No, it’s our friendly faces.

It’s been explained to me that men who are into me, are men who have had many women. You see, because they have so much experience they know what they want in a women, physically and sexually, that is.  Again, I think these are compliments. At lease that’s how I’m going to take them. I  have a feeling that when they think them in their head, they just don’t realize what it will sound like when it comes out. Or maybe these lines have worked on chicks before.

It all goes back to “getting in my pants” something my dad warned me about when I was ten.  (I had all my “coming of age” talks early because I’m the youngest.  My sister is three years older than I, and my parents were really overworked and tired.  So killing two birds with one stone, or ruining two adolescents with one talk was preferred.)

not a hero, but she has my shirt onOkay, so maybe I dress like a slut.  Or have a face like a slut.  I’ve been told on three occasions, by three different men, well one teenager and two men, that I have “dick sucking lips.”  Okay, now that I’m writing this, I must look like a slut for guys to talk to me like that.  Maybe it’s the pumps, maybe it’s the tight skirts or the red lips.  Or maybe it’s the shirt that reads “I’m a slut and open for business.”  In any case, I’m in good company and I’d rather be a slut than a bore.






So, I’ll continue to put some bass in my walk.  Some of my heroes and fellow sluts…













In case you didn't know, this is Koko- the sign language gorilla- with Mr. Rogers. Both are my heroes.



Don’t be Jealous of My Boogie

This is what I’m listening to and watching today.  DWI (deal with it)




I’m totally into RuPaul and the drag world. I’m thinking I need to infiltrate this world, get in, get dirty, and become these hookers bitch. Think of all the things I’ll learn.

I’ve already started to pick up the lingo. You know, like “That slut is giving me shade.” and “This sno-cone makes my world go ’round.”

Oh, rainbows and unicorns.

These Queens make my world go ’round. Maybe this is how me and dad will connect. If fact, I think I’m going to plan a weekend around a drag show. He needs a Queen mentor, he’s flailing in the proverbial straight wind. He’s left to his own demise.  He has no help, no make-up tips, no witty one-liners. He needs some guidance.

Get ready to be jealous of my boogie.



I bought a new pencil skirt simple because it made someone elses ass look good.  I know.  Here’s the review:

From : Nora
Feb 13, 2009
FIVE STARS           
OMG! i bought this skirt for a school presentation in november, but i didn’t wear it until today at a science presentation. My measurements are 34-27-38, and i don’t really have hips, so the 38 is all butt. i bought a medium cuz the small was too much ass for school. Now, let me tell you how hot i felt! Guys who i had never talked to before were saying hi to me, dudes all over the room were checking me out, some boys in my class kept asking me to turn around! IT WAS AWESOME!!!!! i will but more, in different colors! I HAVE A NICE ASS!



I’m looking for hot.  We’ll see, the skirt should be here tomorrow.  If you’ve been moved, by Nora’s review, to purchase this skirt…head over to http://www.americanapparel.net

I love you hookers.

Who came first the Cat Dancers or Siegfried and Roy


Answer: Cat Dancers.

If you’re into big cats and muscled man thighs I suggests you check out the documentary “Cat Dancers”.  They were way cooler and way more magical.  Plus, there is a tragic twist to their story, yes that’s right.  If you think Roy’s incident was tragic you have no idea.  What happened to Ron Holiday and lovers was truly tragic.  I used the above pick to capture all involved in the tragedy. 

I wish all my love to Ron.  I hope he’s moved to Burma to live in the mountains with his lions and tigers and monks.  I wish he would start selling his old Cat Dancer T-shirts.  This is another weekend project for me.  So far I have:

  • make feather headbands/ hair clips/ ear rings
  • Catch up on RuPaul’s Drag Race
  • Find Cat Dancer t-shirt online

Ron has a MySpace, check it: www.myspace.com/catdancers  and you might as well watch the trailer.

And don’t forget to catch Sigfried and Roy tonight on 20/20.


Mom. Strongbow. Sassy Chicks. Strongbow. Bread. Strongbow. In the Womb. Strongbow.

What a weekend. I spent most of my precious weekend with my mom.  She had big plans for us, which included a lot of work in the garden.  The good news is that a chilly weather front came in on Friday evening and ruined her plans for gardening. The bad news was she had a Plan B, like she always does. She told me to come over whenever I wanted and we would have some chili. Easy, I can do that.  I get anxious when I go somewhere and we don’t really have planned activities.  I’m okay if we sit around and watch TV, that’s an activity to me and I thought that’s what I would be doing.  Watching TV, playing with the dogs, eating chili and watching more TV.  My mom is the same way except she doesn’t think watching TV is a legitimate activity, she needs a fucking curriculum. So, my mom planned some activities for us.  First, she buttered me up (really she tricked me) with the enticement of unlimited Strongbows. We started out drinking.  So now I’m thinking I drink, I watch TV, I play with dogs, I eat chili, and watch more TV and drink.  I had two within an hour and she hadn’t finished her first, so I finished it for her.  Then as we finished up our lunch, she tells me that she has a craft project she needs my help with.

My mom usually needs my help with reaching things up high or reaching for things behind the refrigerator.  She thinks I’m tall and have incrediably long skinny arms.  I’m not tall, 5’6″, and I absolutely do not have long or skinny arms. 

But, help with a craft project…after two and half Strongbows, I was actually interested in seeing this craft.  I envisioned something robust or tall that she needed my help lifting or to staple flowers to the top. Not the case.  She had read an article in Woman’s Day or Redbook about a fun Easter craft.  We were about to make SASSY CHICKS. I won’t go into the details of making these little creatures, but I will tell you this.  They are about 1 inch tall and my mom plans to attach them to hats.  Hats, yes hats.  She plans to attach them to straw hats for herself and her dog Tigger.  Don’t worry, she knows exactly how she’s going to do this, because she’s done this before, for a Pooch Parade.





Craft time finally wrapped. Which was surprisingly quick.  Even a little drunk, warm as my mom calls it, I was able to create four sassy chicks in about 30 minutes.  Our next activity was baking bread. She has a new toaster oven, so we needed to try out some bread recipes.  We made whole wheat with raisins, sourdough with raisins, and Irish soda bread with raisins and cinnamon.  That killed another two hours, but any activity with food involved is fun.  Of course, I had two more Strongbows.  Yes, by now I’m drunk. And yes, by now I’m drunk with my mom.

As we sat down to eat our bread, two pieces of each, she says she has a program she wants to watch me me.  At first I thought it was going to be some Joel Olsteen re-runs, but no.  It was a program called, “In the Womb” and yes, it was about babies in the womb.  Because it was recorded she was able to pause, rewind, and fucking slow-mo that shit.  I don’t know if you know what happens in a womb, but it’s pretty much in slow-mo naturally.  So, watching this shit in slow-mo was more boring that my drunk self was ready to deal with.  But, in true form, to deal with this boredom I started snacking on our fresh baked bread and drinking more. Two hours later, the “In the Womb” program was over.  Here’s a clip, if you’re curious…


 I needed to “cool off” as my mom said, before I could leave so we watched some recorded “The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson.”  My mom said, “He’s hilarious, even for a Scot.” 

p.s. to catch Roy of Sigfried and Roy in a skeletor mask- tune in to 20/20 this Friday.

TV Seigfried and Roy

Men who cross their legs have vaginas

Now I’m talking about men who cross their legs like girls.  I know I’m immature, but I can’t help it.  Jesus and God made me this way.

I had a hard time finding pics of what I’m talking about, but here’s the closet I could find.  I realize this guy is Ric Ocasek from The Cars, but I’m still confident he’s hiding a vagina under those pants.  Do you see how close is knees are.  I’m in a really pissy mood today.  Also, look at his fucking sandals!  Dad, is that you?OZ001435