carnivalesque

I feel like it's been a few days since I've updated. Here goes.

Busy as hell, for one. Paper due Thursday about female masculinities, and a presentation on god knows what for Red Power. Lets not think about that.

Thursday night, we're probably having a drag show. I say probably because the straight people are complaining that the semi-nudity of the queens was offensive.

Hello. They're men. With their junk taped way down. If they're in hotpants... that's more than a speedo would cover. Add a bra... what's the big deal, people? It's men. The women, dressed as men, are fully covered. Therein lies the secret of a DRAG show... Idiot conservatives fucking up gay day.

If you can't handle the nudity, stay off the drag show. Nuff said.

For those of you Syracusens, however that's spelled, swing by the university. $5 general admission, tickets in Schine, come see Aggie Dune molest the kids in the aisle. No, really, she does, and that's okay. We all secretly want her to.

She's like Cher and Madonna and Sandra Bullock and Shania Twain all rolled into one dragalicious package.

Lets not even start on the Kings. If Windz isn't there, I may cry.