This weekend, one of my life dreams came true. I finally went to a drag show. When my neighbor suggested a trip to Godfrey’s I was pumped. I knew it would be like living a scene out of The Birdcage so I was obviously all about it.
I was one happy, dollar-waving girl on Saturday night. I can now cross shove a dollar bill in the crotch of a drag queen’s leotard off my life’s to-do list.
Thanks to consuming a few beverages, I can also cross motorboat a drag queen off that same list. I know, I know. I’m a filthy drunk and you can’t take me anywhere. (But at least I have fun?)
I’ll be honest with you. By the end of the night, my curiosity was becoming difficult to harness.
Like I said, my curiosity was getting the best of me, and I may or may not have asked this diva, So where do you put your penis? I mean, that’s me, guys. Just as subtle as the day is long. (And just so you know, there is lots of tape involved.)