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| Activating Boner sequence now. Ooh Pepsi! |
Lissy up, fellow Shamblers and Shamblette's. If you were feeling bad about your life recently, fret not... at least you aren't these hot messes of debauchery. This week we get to the heart of the hot mess issues with a fully gloved hand, because no one wants to touch a steaming pile of mess unless they've got a fierce poo purse on hand to hide the evidence. Now hurry up and click onward because you know you can't wait to see what person, place, and thing are the hottest messes this week...
PERSON(s): Drag queens that try too hard
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| Is my dick on straight? |
This one is bittersweet because drag queens hold a special place in my third stomach. I'm an avid fan of Ru Paul's Drag Race and all things untucked, but a recent repeat ep really had me thinking "Do. Not. Want!", cuz some of these bitches were really trying too hard to glitz up the campiness.
From what I understand, Drag Queens are supposed to be over the top, hilario, and as fierce as Pam on True Blood. But when two of these three traits are missing, you're not a drag queen... you're just annoying, funny, or named Fauxrocia (bless). And when one of these traits is missing, you're tolerable but pressing your luck. No one likes an over the top "comedian", people don't sample the overly fierce bean dip at the buffet... the only thing that's kinda tolerableish is a fierce bitch who's also hilarious, but looks can be deceiving.
So listen up, hot tranny messes, we Shamblette's admire your dedication, and would never judge or discourage you from following who you really are... but if I were literally a walking trainwreck, I think I'd stick to my day job for the time being.
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PLACE: West Hollywood
| So sorry... Thought that was my dick I was nomming on |
West Hollywood, or WeHo as the weens that act like hoes who live there call it, is a cesspool of hellfire death where all the gays in the world and their hags congregate to add too many S' to wordsssss, judge each other's outfits, and throw drinks in each others well manicured faces. Don't get me wrong, I realize this makes me a traitor to my people, but I just can't get down with the gay club scene anymore than I can stand behind sugarless cupcakes at a bake sale without rolling my eyes.
Like the draggies who try too hard, I'm putting on my best attempt at a face here when I try to see the other side of this argument. Am I a 400 pound shut-in who just doesn't get out to WeHo enough to see how fun and awesome it is that a community of my people can live so freely without being tied up and left for dead...? Perhaps. Have I been out in WeHo and had an awesome gay-old-time despite all the drag queen prostitutes and people who look better than me giving me stank face? Yes, I have... but that's like one night a month (if that).
What makes this place of garity such a hot mess is all the drama queens and V-neck-shirt wielding leather daddies who don't venture outside it's martini walls and jizz filled mote that judge anyone who hails from elsewhere or doesn't hit up Hamburger Mary's to not-eat and play drag queen Bingo. The problem fills with blood and gets bigger when these folks who, like "serious actors", think their world is the only world worth living, and thus roam the streets of WeHo looking for their next pray to judge, bone, and then kidnap into the throes of their world, never to be let out again for fear of the "breeders" corrupting their twinky little minds.
In the end, yes, it's great there's a community of people and places in town where a gay can be a gay and the straight couples are the minority for once. When all's said and done, it's wonderful that gay rights have come so far that I have a near seizure from all the colors of the flags flying on your doors when I drive by... but, kind readers, Gayopolis is a lot like a college town: It might be amazing that you're within walking distance of places to get wasted and bring someone back to your apartment for some no strings attached maybe-herpes getting fun... And it might seem too good to be true that all your cocaine and bottled sperm needs are only a dainty hop, skip, and a jump away... but like College, eventually you should graduate and move on to the real world outside the confines of your bubble. Because if you don't, then you're just another one of those gross and pathetic townies who can't seem to get past that jizz-mote and bareback pool parties to join the rest of society... and that, hobag bitch faces, is worthy of the gay stink eye.
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THING: White people corn rows
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| You Crakerz ain't this bitch, so stop trynna be 'for I cut'choo |
Hot mess alert, corn rows sound delish but aren't nom worthy when on white people.
I am so sorry, people but just cuz you think you're black doesn't mean you are. I mean hell, I can think I'm not morbidly disgusting, but that doesn't make it any less true.
I have a theory however, on how some white dudes think they're acceptable looking in cornrows, and the source of that evil is Britchney Spears. Two, count 'em, TWO of her former lovuuuuhs have attempted to rock that look with Dracula sized shambled results.
The other theory I have is it's a celebrity thing. Honestly, doods I don't care how haute you normally are... with corn rows you ain't getting nowhere near my nethers, white boy.
As usual I'm open to hearing the other side of the argument, so in order for this hot mess to be true there has to be an exception to the rule that proves it right, doesn't there? There does, and said exception is Ron Swanson. This Feroshia could wear the flesh of unborn babies GaGa style and still make it look badass. The rest of you douchey frat dudes, however... you ain't Snoop Dogg, so give up the dream.
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