MAC ATTACK!

i'm sure the universe knows the importance of the MAC...

in our current cultural history...take fer instance...that sappy nursery rhyme sing-a-long song about Old Mac Donald who had a farm...loved by millions of little kittens around the globe...til they find out why he "had a farm"...it's cuz the damn bank repossessed the land fer default'n on his loan after Old Miss Donald burnt the damn barn to the ground one nite after catch'n him fornicate'n with the farm animals

then there's MAC-n-cheese...a simple yet a very much deserved delicacy

fer all those burned out biology majors and majorettes cramp'n til the wee hours of the morn'n...only to realize after 4 years of hard studies...their useless degree ends up just as some pretty useless plaque on their studio apartment wall cuz they'll end up doin hard labor at the damn factory itself

of course no conscious queen would be complete in the burn'n spotlight...

without the schlack of MAC cosmetics molest'n their mugshot...dime store queens in train'n heels take notice...you can save yer hard earned tips spend'n hours layer'n on yer maybelline but you still end up look'n like some washed out water colored crack wreck on stage

so thanx to my magically delicious friend and mayor of desperadoville...

Timbellina...fer generously give'n me tickets that both he & i could afford (well cuz they were free) not to one but both nites and introduce'n me to thee biggest MAC surprise of them all...(well since that MAC i met last weekend...but no worries kittens...i failed my EPT test...so save that 3 layered diaper cake...fer now)...the self described Elizabethan fool and collagist known as TAYLOR MAC at the Guthrie theater this past weekend in Minneapolis

my crazy kween of the kitty litter...Poonanie...came with the 2nd nite...and we were over the moon with Timbellina's "over the moon" martini's...we both ended up turn'n into a puddle before the clock struck 12...and not only did me and the Poon loose her glass slipper...she lost her mind...along with her liver on the dance floor...but today isn't about her...
now...where was i?...oh yes...

described as a cross between Tiny Tim and Ziggy Stardust by wikipedia

i would best describe TAYLOR MAC as the bastard child party monster performance anti establishmentally brilliant arteest of Leigh Bowery and Nina Hagen

either case...TAYLOR MAC hypothetically blew me away with his incestuously operatic voice...his look and of course his heels...that i'da killed for in a fuchsia or obersheen...but he was soo soo much more than that...his show "A 24 DECADE HISTORY OF POPULAR MUSIC: THE 20TH CENTURY ABRIDGED" consisted of songs thru-out history and the story behind them

as a playwright/singer/songwriter/actor/performance artist/director/producer and all around downtown legend in the BIG APPLE...TAYLOR MAC has toured the globe from the Lincoln Center to the Sydney Opera House and everywhere in between 

add'n in his political & social punches when warranted...and very much applauded audience participation

though he apparently pissed off Mr. & Mrs. Colostomy bag sitt'n in front of me on the 1st nite...cuz after his open'n speech about how we...as the pay'n audience (or non pay'n audience member in my case...well only cuz i'm thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe) could dispense with the grandular applause fer the 1% who made this theater production possible...they decided it wasn't worth leave'n their limed jell-o heaven on the communal table tray after all and decided to enjoy their metamucil martini and Matlock marathon back at their palatial raisin ranch of piss stains and parade of swarovski tchotchkee's

though the show came to a close this past weekend in Minneapolis...

you still have a chance to catch TAYLOR MAC by gett'n tickets 

april 9th here and april 12-16 here

before he embarks on his most ambitious project to date..."A 24 DECADE OF POPULAR MUSIC" a 24 hour long concert spann'n 240 years in music...which is in the works fer later this october in the BIG APPLE...you'd be an absolute fool not to go...seriously

oh...and on top of ALL of that...he's one hot MAC outta his MAC...

that i wouldn't have a prob mac'n on...if he'd ask...and of course if i wasn't busy

now get off my dress!

hit the road jack-off!

marriage has never been a priority fer me...when i can sit at home alone and complain fer free...in peace and quiet...then go out and buy myself a lil happiness

i've put in my time and dated my fair share of the socially retarded...the emotionally unavailable and the chemically dependents of the tri state area...by that i mean...i've tried almost everything...at least ONCE...all in the name of research of course

my bedroom had turned into a bored room ever since i ended my 4 years with the old purse i was date'n at the time...8 years ago...and up until 9 1/2 inches ago...i pretty much was a white supremacist when it came to date'n

not that other races weren't incredibly attractive...it just wasn't sexually a turn on for me

but i was over all the non homo and non hetero caucasians that would just lay there like a dead hooker and expected me to do all the work...

so i smashed down my defenses and jumped over the date'n fences...to see what life was like on the other side!

my bedroom has since become a United Colors of Benetton ad...and ya know what...i've come to tell you that things are still pretty much the same...assholes do come in many different colors!

my most recent experiment...7 years ago about...was this taco belle from
Tijuana work'n out at my gym and would totally have a Sheena Easton and Prince moment runn'n through my head when i'd see him...by that i mean

 i am rarely EVER distracted from my work-out...cuz i go to the gym to work out...and not act like i'm walk'n down some proverbial narcissistic runway...but this chimichanga had a look...buzzed head...intense eyes...tattooed in the right places...and pillowed lips you could bounce on fer hours (well if you were into that sorta thing)

anyways...i would watch him from time to time work out... while i was sweat'n it out on the ass master machine...and noticed that he wasn't walk'n down any runway...(except the one in my head...that went straight to my bed) but there to actually work out...so i was hope'n someday our paths would cross

a year would go by before i would get the chance to run into him on a lazy sunday afternoon at some lame downtown beer bust...that always was a bust...but would get me into experi-men-tal mode to see what all the planet of apes would be say'n about me...without have'n to say'n a word!

(my hidden talent?...lip reader)

i forced myself to talk to him...since he was hold'n up the patio wall

pose'n like some egyptian hieroglyphic...and it turned out there was some mutual interest (so i didn't have to bite down on that cyanide pill after all)

so after some fornicational 4 square back at his humble little kitty box...i crossed off the  "cross'n the border" from my list of "things to do"...hey...

we have ALL had those "moments" when you've just wanted pure unadulterated fornicational pleasures...without the use of battery operated assistance or take'n ol' "Rosey Palmer" on another date!...(whether you fulfill them...is up to YOU)  it's human nature to think about it judge prissy!

BUT...the next day he called me back and it threw me off guard...cuz i figered i was on his list of "things to do" (hey...he did get to sleep with an unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe after all...i can't even count how many wish they could have)

of which i was sure to tell him right off the bat so there was no confusion...or before any other non heterosexual bar bitch would try to use that as some sorta wedge between us...like they have in the past unfortunately

after spend'n a 2nd nite with me in my kitty box...he had asked me if i would have any interest to move with him if he got his transfer put in fer work...

*hmmm...i was a bit perplexed at first...it's a thought i suppose...but then realized...i am...after all...an unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe...who wouldn't want me to move with them?

or if he wasn't gonna move out to San Diego... would i consider date'n him exclusively in the minne-apple...again...i wondered about it fer a minute...*but then i remembered my token answer from above

speedy gonzales proved me wrong as we both opened up a bit more...

we shared the witty repertoire...we talked about everything from my ABC's to his STD's...he tried to humor me plenty of times with the fact he would have to tell people he got laid by a drag queen...but i corrected him that i am neither a drag nor a queen

i hadda cancel the movie date we had planned to see the follow'n week...

the australian cinematic masterpiece known as "PRISCILLA QUEEN OF THE DESERT"

at my apt...cuz he had never seen it before...and that's really just insane to me

but life happens and i was co-horsed of course to leave town on a mission that needed to be done...so i texted him where i was and why i was there and when i'd return and what day he wanted to reschedule the movie...but i could tell the subtext of his text...that he was not pleased!

the follow'n day after my return...i was home on break fer lunch...and received a text from my taco belle...who now had turned into taco hell...who needed to get somethin' off his chest with a few lovely textable words...

          (yes...in case yer wonder'n...this is word 4 word...his actual text)

my 1st thought was...OH...MY...CHER!...WOW!...what a fuck'n moron...

this mo' is no spell'n bee champion obviously cuz he doesn't even know how to spell Dr. Freud correctly...but i decided to follow his train of thought...and wondered if i were the great Dr. F....how would i assess the situation?

now there's a merried of reasons how i could decipher this as...

reason #1 he was miffed i left town and cancel'n out on the movie date...which would really make him a big ass baby...i mean...we were both past the appropriate age of pull'n each others pigtails

reason #2 his work decided not to transfer him to San Diego...so he needed to blow off steam...and i was an easy punch'n bag

reason #3 he's just a complete c*ck-suck'n-mutha-f*ck'n-pig-slutt'n-trailer-trash-border-cross'n-mexic*nt...with a hot ass

i'm gonna go with #3....cuz #1 or #2 sounds like i really care!

he's worried about tell'n people a drag queen f*cked him?

OH NO!...no drag queen f*cked you mr. senorita...

you can tell them an unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of her own universe f*cked you...and you won't ever ferget it!

ummm...INS...i have a new file fer you!

THEN...i kinda felt sorry fer him...fer a minute...cuz he's obviously a complete walk'n contradiction 

who couldn't deal with my fabulousness or his narcissistic selfishness...and now everytime when i pass a tequila bar or taco john's...all i hear are the torn and tattered sounds of Miss Mac Gregor

all the Judge Mentals and Wade Tumors of the world need to get a life! (that's not my last failure's name...i do have some decorum left) he was just some insignificant  pile of non heterosexual crap 15 years ago that begged me to pollinate him...in the powder room...at his friends party

that started my experi-men-tality date'n...who took it upon himself to inform my potential future failures fer a while that i am THEE unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe

i have no problem when people want to move onto other pastures...

but don't feed me a slice of cow pie and expect me to wash it down with a glass of WTF? juice!

like the ABBA classic goes..."Can you hear the drums Fernando?"

pound'n yer insignificant memory from my existence?

i am not embarrassed nor will i ever deny that i am THEE...

unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe...cuz if that's a deal breaker...then don't let the door hit ya in the A double snakes on the way out...cuz i won't ever be doin it again...and P-U-H-L-E-E-Z...get off my dress!

so lemme get this straight...sorta!

i was recently reminded once again...why i've pulled the plug and take'n

my love life off life support and decided to support someone i barely know...fer the next 7 days (as should YOU)...rather than support some fucktards trainwreck of thought...who needs a bungee cord to support their narcissistic self loath'n plump A double snakes from crush'n their teenie tiny brain of thought...

give'n that tired old dribble about why would someone...like myself...be interested in someone that's push'n the non hetero movement back by 1000's of years...

OH NO SHE DI'INT!

if this was the 18th century...it was not only accepted as the "normal"...

it was thee fashion statement of the century...fer any non hetero and any non homo man alike...to be seen in public in powdered wigs and heels...the only difference with today's man is that we have a vast array of colored wigs and clodhoppers to be seen in...BUT...back to ME!

there are many many myths in the world that many many people have...

believed to be true...that sooner or later...at some point...gets debunked as 100% false

like fer instance...the late 80's double chocolate mint twins Milli Vanilli...

who took home a grammy for  best new artist in 1990...fer best lyp-sync'n by a group or duo

or that the GOP would once again take control of the table come novem...

with their typical pile of ass backwards politicks fer the very minuscule minority of their fans...

only to get slowly dethroned...one by one...by some cheesy doodled loud mouth clown...with a road map to his reason why he was able to marry outside of his endangered species

that a flawlessly famous drag queen like...

RuPaul

a spell bind'n transgendered beauty like...

Amanda Lepore

a terrorize'n transvestite as sweet as...

Tim Curry

and those loud mouthed ego riddled trans fats...

are all in the same

well...i'm here to tell ya kittens...THEY'RE NOT!

so lemme break down this tired myth about the "drag queen"...or as i prefer to be referred to as "thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe" or the others queens in train'n heels...simply known as a "perform'n illusionist" to use the term loosely 
(in this CHER fersaken PC BS generation we live in all of a sudden)

cuz dead beat drag queens are much too old and ugly...

of which i am neither...YET!

and when you can take a well endowed cock-a-doodle do and make it into a dirty lil kitty cat...you are in a sense perform'n a pretty damn good "illusion"

so with that in mind...let me debunk the myths you think you know to be true

# 1 all perform'n illusionists are gay

though the myth that ALL perform'n illusionists are non heterosexual...it's been debunked by many who see it strictly as an art form fer comic relief...and not a way of life (well that we're aware of anyways)

#2 perform'n illusionists only perform fer the money

this myth is definitely soooo not true...though some illusionists make a decent live'n from perform'n and deserve their own TV series... the vast majority of illusionists i know...have full-time jobs and spend more money than what they make from perform'n to get that perfect look...perform'n is an extremely expensive hobby when done correctly...that they just love doin...it's like a VanGogh or Monet that's come to life

#3 all perform'n illusionists wanna be women

this is one of those myths...that i even knew as a teenager doin' the polka dance with puberty...thanx to shows like Phil Donahue back in the 80's...didn't hold a shred of truth...those would be of the "transgender" category...and though it's true that some performers are of a transgendered nature...they are no longer an "illusionist"...a huge chunk of "illusionists" do it fer the attention they never received from their parental guidance...cuz they simply love it and it offers them a creative outlet....plus it's an easy way to make a fast buck without have'n to compromise yer morals under a burnt out street lamp in some back alley

#4 all perform'n illusionists are bottoms

i'm here to tell ya kitten...THEY'RE NOT! *wink*wink*...of course i'm assume'n all you out there in read'n land know what i mean by "BOTTOM"...so no explanation should be required...if not...get a book!

# 5 a perform'n illusionist isn't a REAL man

BITCH PUHLEEZ!...this myth is usually brought upon by closeted non heterosexuals that think that they're fool'n the crowd with their "str8 act'n and appear'n" well worn ambercrombie tank cum rag they're still try'na pull off...well past it's expiration date...on a date...schtick!...well i'm here to tell you kittens...ya ain't fool'n anyone but yerself...since 10 times outta 10...they have their legs stapled to the ceil'n before i can even get the front door shut...most illusionists are more of a man cuz they have big enough balls to do what they do...regardless what others may think...it takes an extremely confident man to put himself out there for others to judge and sometimes ridicule...just fer a handful of benjamins

  #6  anyone can be a perform'n illusionist

this myth...though seems all inclusive...is somewhat exclusive...depend'n on what bar ya visit...perform'n as an illusionist is not easy...and not everyone can do it...you have to have that "it" factor...if yer gonna be an illusionist...you need to be able to capture the audience's attention and keep the monkey's tap dance'n til dawn...or at least til yer heels and hair is paid off...plus you also need to have a large unclogged heart and be will'n to work for nothin' to raise money for charities and help the community...this is not an easy task to ask

# 7 perform'n illusionist's never use their boy names

this myth...some say is...you should never use an illusionists "boy name" when the war paint is applied...which is sometimes true...but it all depends on the illusionist and the situation...if he is in his illusion...then you should use his illusionist name obviously...especially if you want any sorta attention from them... i call all other illusionists by their perform'n name whether they're in or outta their illusion...cuz i can't be bothered to remember who they really are...and i expect the same...(though a generous genuflection is customary when address'n me on the street and much appreciated)

#8 wearing a dress makes you a perform'n illusionist 

this myth couldn't be further from the truth...this is usually a sexual fetish made popular by a transvestite...and most of them are 100% non homosexual...but just love the feel of silky things carress'n their unwaxed...flat and very tired A double snakes

#9 all perform'n illusionists are bitchy

this myth...though does hold some truth since most performers are known fer their cattiness...or extreme bitchiness...and it's what the audience expects...but let's stop and look at it from their perspective...they're wear'n multiple pairs of tights...marinate'n in 10 pounds of maybelline under hot lights...in heels that weren't made for their feet...add to that a corset and have'n their junk taped to their trunk fer hours at a time sometimes...you  would be a lil bitchy too...plus some feel that they have the right to judge them and demand things from them the second they're off stage...(i'm talk'n to you damn bridal parties)...bein an illusionist is not easy job and therefore we've earned the right to be a lil bitchy from time to time...but in reality...the majority of them are the coolest creative people you will ever meet...most of them would give you their blouse off their backs...while they're secretly gett'n slipped yer boyfriend's number

#10 all perform'n illusionists love to be photographed

this myth is only true when they're in a controlled environment...and someone like David LaChapelle or Annie Leibovitz is behind the camera...let's face it...we are ALL attention whores to the nth degree...BUT...the majority of illusionists should never...i repeat NEVER...be spontaneously jumped in a crowd by a bunch of drunken fly'n monkeys with their iphones set fer stunned...who instantly instagram our horrored look on facebook or tumblr or any other website...you will instantly be blocked fer life...and well into yer next life...cuz we NEVER ferget a bad pic!...if you would like a memory with all our fabulessness in tact...just ask...we're more than happy to oblige...as long as you shoot from straight on...or above...and have enough vaseline on the lens to make us look like a fetus in a wig...like we imagine we look like once we've reached a certain age

there you have it kittens...10 myths about perform'n illusionists...

debunked like a dead skunk...if you don't like some plucked fuck in maybelline and pedal pushers...that's just fine...it's not hurt'n you what so ever...everyone does what makes them feel comfortable and attractive to themselves...there are those that do...so don't over analyze the situation fer those that do or think fer one minute that it's damage'n yer internalized fragile "masculinity"...cuz really...you have no clue who yer talk'n to!

now get off my dress