I've always thought it slightly amazing that I don't get people yelling more things at me than I do as an openly gay young adult and occasional drag queen here in Tuscaloosa. Rarely is it that some tragic thing has the gall to say anything hateful to my face. It wasn't until this past Friday that I recall anyone doing this and then it happened twice. Odd.

The first time was early on Friday morning as preparations were being made for what would be the most fabulous Bal Masque XIX the following night. I had a bit of bender on Thursday night, leaving me still in the grasp of inebriation's lust. So what else is there to wear to a Bal rehearsal than gym shorts, T-shirt, tiger print jacket with fur trimmings and a black veil? Well I needed a biscuit to soak up my poor decisions and had to get to Hardee's and, of course, I had to walk because I was still in no state to drive. As I was passing the courthouse, I overheard a man on the steps call out to someone, "Is that some kind of RuPaul shit?" with laughter. Well if a gentleman is going to compliment a lady, a lady should recognize their kindness. Thus my response was a quick turn and, "RuPaul has nothing on all this HUNTY!" followed by a fierce stomp away, waving my veil in the air with as much finesse as a beached Man o' War. As I was making Greensboro my Drag Race runway, I faintly heard, "You need to act more like a man!"

The second time that same day was after a fabulous feast of mediocre tacos at Don Rafa with my sister, Jaja Kardashian. We were skipping across Lurleen Wallace, giving hungover realness to the townfolk when a man in a dirty ass truck stopped at the red light and rolled down his window just enough to yell out, "Fucking faggots!" Well you know my sister and I gave him nothing but love - sweet kisses and beckoning waves. It burned him up. He literally just could not stand it and continued rolling out quips just as fast as he could string together the words. In other words, every 30 seconds he was leaning out yelling, "Fuck you," "Fags," and "Fuck you fags." It was an onslaught of pointed wit, the likes of which my sister and I had never experienced. We now of course check Craigslist Missed Connections everyday in the hopes of locating this poor man obviously looking for a kinky three-way.

If things like this happen to you, do you get mad? Do you shake with anger and want to yell back? Don't. People so consumed with their own anger that they have to direct it at someone else so randomly are people who need compassion. They need a smile and a wave that confuses them. Emotion is an energy and we should all remember from grade school that energy can neither be created nor destroyed, it can only change form. Don't let someone else's angry emotions just become your redirected anger. Take that energy and turn it into something positive. (Oh Gaga I have got to start practicing what I preach.)


People are silly. They spend so much of their time focusing on who and what they hate, usually without really knowing why. Don't be that silly person. Just be love in everything that you do, except in those cases when you have to read a bitch, but even then read them with love. While writing this I was listening to the person that makes everything right for me in life, Florence + the Machine. This song says it all for me, so if you're ever upset or angry or anything that is not helping you to move forward with your own life, just shake it out.

Well in case you opted for Animal Planet's Puppy Bowl rather than TV's biggest event of the year and missed Madonna's Halftime Show, we have it for your viewing pleasure here as long as YouTube allows it to be up. I have to admit, that is how you make a diva's entrance. As soon as it began, Twitter and FB blew up with "how gay the Super Bowl halftime was" and such. Well that's interesting. I mean she is a gay culture goddess, but why do we have to make label it so definitively? Why can't it just have been a great performance from an iconic artist? Sure there was a massive group of beefy, scantily clad mens carrying Madonna on a golden throne, but just 10 minutes ago there was a similar group of lads in leggings pouncing on each other in all sorts of sexually suggestive ways. Why aren't we giving that the same queened-out response and saying how gay the Super Bowl itself was without any consideration to any halftime show?

Speaking of a queened-out response, are your eardrums still healing from the resounding, blood-curling screams from around the world as MIA's middle finger launched a series of stations blocking the feed to ensure that 100 million+ viewers didn't behold such a horrid obscenity in their own homes? Now articles are coming out saying that the gesture will be remembered more than the performance itself. Really? Really. For 720 seconds of an amazingly orchestrated performance, fabulous costuming (by Givenchy and Philip Treacy nonetheless) and awesome guest-star appearances, we are only supposed to remember an appendage being extended for one of those seconds? Does a gesture with a somewhat negative connotation (during something a musical performance which is totally about the human expression of emotions anyway) always outweigh the good? That's a pitiful reflection of human nature.































While I did love this jaw-slacking performance for the most part, I think some of the revealing reactions are disappointing. This performance reminded me that we are compartmentalized-label addicts who are looking for what offends us rather than what impresses us. I mean what backs up that theory more than a gay blogger who calls himself CampusQueer writing about what offended him about people being offended rather than just praising all the best qualities of this performance?

I am looking forward to rest of Madonna's return to being in our face with the anticipated release of MDNA on March 26. That's a sexy name for an album. Check out this megamix of some of the tracks and the recently released video for Give Me All Your Luvin' feat. Nicki Minaj and that naughty, naughty MIA.






Over and Out,
CampusQueer