My name is Liz. I need direction. I overuse commas, my house is a mess, my hair needs a trim and I have no marketable skills: It's fun here, you'll see!

Contact Me, Folks!

Got a question, comment, proposal of marriage? Great! Email me at theproductivecough@gmail.com

Show Your Love

February 2nd, 2010

Girl, you better work!

Yesterday, I was in aisle 13 of the Vons, scrutinizing the price of canned crab meat, when my cell phone rang. The caller ID told me it was one (if not both) of my parents, so I picked up with a cheerful, “Yo! Whaddup?” It was my mom. “Hey giiiiiiirl!” she cried. As my mom is not in a sorority at the University of Texas, I knew not to take her greeting seriously. “Hi mama,” I chuckled.

“I have an assignment for you!” she said. “What is it?” I asked. “Do you get the Logo network?” I knew this was going to be good.

And it was. The reason for her call was to tell me that I absolutely needed to watch the new season of RuPaul’s Drag Race. It didn’t take much convincing to get me to agree, if we’re being honest. I told her I would and then call her about it the next day. We hung up, bidding one another a hearty, “Later, homeslice!” I returned home (without crab meat) and set the DVR to record the show.

When I woke up this morning, there it was, waiting for me. So, after I took care of a few things, I sat down to check it out (it was, after all, an assignment from my mom, whom I always obey). Allow me to offer you my reaction:

Ho. Ly. Crap.

Drag queens are tremendously entertaining. The padding of chests, the tucking of batches. The high heels! The freaking wigs! Also, they use words like “Country-ass” and “raggedy” and “bitch.” By the way, I don’t know if you know this, but the word “bitch” is quite versatile. Officially, it’s a word for “female dog,” but it can also mean “to complain.” Obviously, it can be used as an insult, but it is often used as a friendly term, as in “You bitches look fiiiiiine!” And the women on this show tend to use the world a lot. At one point, two of the contestants got into a very loud fight. The one known as Mystique, having warned the one called Morgan to “step off,” shouted “Bitch, I am from CHICAGO!” Now, I’ve never visited the Windy City, so I’m no expert, but, is that a threat?

It’s no surprise that there would be fighting. First, it’s a reality show. That’s what they’re about- cat fights, drama and crying. Second, these women refer to themselves as “divas,” thereby upping the likelihood of an ego clash significantly. And finally, these women, lest we forget, are actually MEN, so there’s plenty of testosterone bouncing around in that room, which will inevitably lead to a few clashes. I look forward to the episode where there’s some wig-pulling, high heel-throwing drag queen cage match.

Another thing I learned: Drag queens have sensational skin! Is there some drag queen law that neglecting to exfoliate is punishable by death? And the best skin of all of them belongs to RuPaul herself. I was going to try and make a food analogy, but I didn’t really want to go there. Oh and by the way, my friends, RuPaul is hilarious. The glint in her eyes when she says “The time has come… for you to lip sync FOR YOUR LIFE!” indicates that she’s aware of how over-the-top and dramatic she’s being. I think I’d like to spend the day with her. She could take me to get my nails done and have false eye lashes put on. Then I could give her a taste of my life by taking her out for a really messy burger and then to the CVS to buy some chap stick. Or maybe we’d just go to the Disney Hall to hear the LA Philharmonic.

Bottom line is: Mom, you win. I now watch RuPaul’s Drag Race. Let’s watch it together some time, bitch! (Said in the most respectful and loving way, of course.)

2 comments to Girl, you better work!

Leave a Reply




You can use these HTML tags

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>