Hedda Dishes Drag Race :: DILFs
Hello gentle Americans. My worst fear came true last night. On episode 10 of "RuPaul’s Drag Race," they brought back from the depths of drag hell Puerto Rico’s Chupacabra: Kenya Michaels. The moment the door opened to reveal the Latin munchkin I made an audible groan.
Wilam, who I was praying would return in a puff of meth smoke, was nowhere to be found. Obviously once you break the rules on "Drag Race" there is no coming back. If Wilam did return, she would not have been given the boot so quickly. Nothing must be more humiliating then being kicked off "Drag Race" not once, but twice. Well, maybe having to help Jiggly Caliente tuck is more humiliating. By the episode’s end, Kenya was told to sashay away.
The main challenge had the girls take burly ’straight’ men and put them in drag; Not just putting them in drag, but making them look related to their assigned queen. To top it off, in their final runway walk, each pairing had to give the appearance of being pregnant. Pregnant with what I am not sure?
In the case of Sharon Needles it had to be the Devil’s spawn. In Latrice Royal’s case it was probably a ham, cheesy fries, Big Mac and a large coke. I would hate to be around when her water broke. The tsunami-like wave coming from her mangina would wash away the competition, leaving Latrice the last queen standing.
The esteemed panel included Jesse Tyler Ferguson ("Modern Family") and Jennifer Love Hewitt ("Ghost Whisperer"). The producers must have been doing some serious wheeling and dealing, because at least we knew who the judges were this week. Jesse was adorable and spot-on with his commentary and Jennifer Love Hewitt was sickeningly sincere. Looking woefully at the cast, as if she was thinking, "These poor suffering souls. And, ’Oh, how do my tits look?’"
Yet again, "Drag Race" tried to pull on our heartstrings, having some of the queens tearfully tells the viewing audience how difficult it was growing up gay. Phi-Phi said her father does not accept her because of her lifestyle. Girl he does not accept you because you are an annoying bitch, not because you’re a drag ho. Frankly, in your case, the wise words of my mother Shredda Lynn Lettuce came to mind. Mama would often drunkenly look down at me, with a cigarette dangling from her thin red lips, and she would mumble, "I wish abortion after birth was legal." I feel the same way when I look at Phi-Phi.
Michelle Visage predictably came for Chad Michaels, saying that Chad does not take enough risks. Chad and her adorable partner had such charm and whimsy on the runway, Chad made pregnancy look glamorous and effortless. The next time Michelle puts her two cents in, Chad should remove her pump and beat the raven-headed bimbo about the head and face. If that does not say taking a risk Michelle, than I don’t know what does.
Kenya and her straight counterparts’ interpretation of the challenge was a stillbirth the moment they hit the runway, ’though I don’t blame Kenya fully. Her straight man had a glum look on her face, as if her baby was conceived during a rape.
Phi-Phi won the challenge and rightfully so. Both of the ’gals’ looked related and they had this playful bounce in their step that captivated the judges. But mark my words, when Phi-Phi gives birth to her child, it is going to have webbed feet and autism from all the booze and bitterness she consumed during her pregnancy.
Latrice found herself in the bottom two and Kenya and Latrice had to lip-synch for their lives to Aretha Franklyn’s, "Natural Woman." Latrice stood center stage, with her hands placed Madonna-like over her baby bump, and confidently interpreted the material with a well-placed lip. Kenya kicked off her heels and hopped around the stage in a desperate attempt at stealing focus from Latrice. She did a death drop (which I am sure was not good for the baby), tore off her wig and circled Latrice like she was caught in her orbit. Her performance reeked from the stench of a miscarriage and gratefully she was sent home.
By episode’s end my stomach began to hurt and I had a strange craving for ice cream, pickles and cock. Was I experiencing a hysterical pregnancy? Or did that encounter behind that dumpster with that young stud produce a love child? Passing out on the couch, as if I was in labor for 24 hours, I slept like a baby. When I awoke I raced to the bathroom and took a delicious BM. That explained the pressure in my stomach. As the turd went down the drain sadness washed over me; however implausible it was, I was so looking forward to becoming a mother.