Bitch Please...

Okay, so the house has been taken over by Ru Paul's Drag Race. I'm not even kidding.

Chicken started out by bringing it to the teenagers while I was shopping last week, and by the time I caught on to what was going on in my house, the kids were hooked. After a bumpy season--which we skipped because we were told who won--we were all back to season four, with Sharon Needles and Latrice and suddenly we're reading each other's fashion sense (ZoomBoy, are you trying to let your smell proceed you? Bitch please.) and commenting on our runway turns.        

 Given that Squish is the only one of the three of us who isn't practically allergic to makeup, and we all think getting our toes done is really our maximum in beauty indulgence, I'm going to call this an accident of irony and pop culture.

I will say that the things Ru Paul says to her queens really ARE self-affirming though. Maybe that's why the show has so much success. When this lovely woman smiles at you and tells you all the things you've accomplished even though you haven't won this particular battle, it really does give you heart to go fight all the other ones. I mean she hasn't done this for me personally, but the way she let down LaShawn tonight really did bring tears to my eyes. (Yes, it's a spoiler for season four-- I'm pretty sure nobody's shocked.)

Anyway--I think my kids are going to be walking around saying, "And remember--don't fuck this up," for a very long time.

Off to edit and write and all the other stuff.

And I don't even want to talk about knitting tonight. Did I do some? Of course I did.

Bitch please.