February 18th, 2002


I really really can't tolerate much more of this!

There are two kinds of crossdressers in the world: The ones I will allow when I am Queen and the ones that will be burned at the stake.
When I am Queen, crossdressers that actually look like like the gender they desire to be will be allowed to remain. Nuriko is an excellent example. He may be a guy, but he hasn't looked masculine since the day he was born. Also, he does not exist. That is a technicality. There are plenty of men in the world who can cross dress all they please, like Mana of Malice Mizer or Yoshiki of X Japan, because they look good that way.
Then there are the other men. They will be eliminated, by my army of effeminate soldiers, and it will make me laugh. Now I am talking about the crossdressers who don't even begin to look like women. (Female-to-male crossdressers, for some reason, aren't failing drag kings if they don't look manly enough. The just become ugly. Weird double standard.) Like the man on the bus today in San Francisco. Whenever I go to the city, the funny people find me. Anyway, this man was wearing a frumpy red dress, the sort of ensemble that Queen Elizabeth wears. It was horrible, made worse by the fact that this 60-something man was...well, very obviously a man. He had these thick bushy eyebrows and was balding at the back of his head. While certain Japanese rock stars can be disturbingly sexy when dressed in skirts (Butler, do not even comment), tall broad-shouldered old men can't work it. When I first saw him, I had to ask Kris to confirm that it was indeed a man, and not some frumpy nanny gone to seed and caved in. It was a man. We got off the bus and had a snack in the Castro district; then we re-boarded another bus. Mr (Mrs?) Frump re-appeared and sat down next to me. (He smelled rather funny, like old perfume mixed with mothballs.) He proceeded to have a conversation with a friend's mother, covering many important topics such as:
1/ Being the "passive" member of a pair conducting sodomy (read as uke, correct?)
2/ Butter and its many purposes, none of which I could repeat to a small child
3/Senators sleeping with young boys
4/I don't want to know!
Long story short, I'm not going to San Francisco anytime soon. And when I do, you can bet your bottom dollar that I will shoot down the first rainbow flag I see with my pigeon-killing slingshot. I've had enough gay propaganda to last me a few decades.
P.S. Sorry to the homo/bisexual readers I have. You know I love you, I'm just a little annoyed with certain extremists; I'm sure you sometimes have the same feelings for exceptionally hardcore Christians.