Hedda Dishes Drag Race :: Ciao, ladies!
Hello gentle Americans. Part of being a good journalist is being objective. Thank God I am not a journalist!
This week’s episode of "RuPaul’s Drag Race" was one of the worst pieces of reality TV I have seen in a long time. Even the short-lived "Temptation Island," where infidelity on a remote tropical local was condoned, was more entertaining. Granted, it gave me a tropical disease from watching it, which was easily cured with a simple shot of Penicillin. Wet brain on the other hand is not curable. Part of my mind has been mushed into a not-so-fine pate after watching "Drag Race," episode #12.
All three contestants - Sharon Needles, Phi Phi O’Hara and Chad Michaels - should have been eliminated by the show’s end. I will go one step further: line the bitches up and shoot them! Nothing says you’re fired, like a firing squad.
Each contestant proved to me once again, that drag might be dead. Bad lip-synching to a bad RuPaul song, bad fashions, bad script and watching RuPaul act as Dr. Phil, dolling out advice with not an ounce of irony, was enough to make me want to turn in my wig and heels and take up air conditioning and refrigeration repair. (Surely some of you are saying, "Good riddance Hedda." And to you I say, "Eat my tranny nut clusters bitches!")
The amazing Candis Cayne made a special appearance, choreographing the girls for RuPaul’s next music video. Knowing Candis for many years I was surprised to see how full figured she has become. Her curves even have curves now. Candis does have a lovely TV personality - light and flip; reading the girls in a tongue and cheek kind of way, not in a bitchy back-stabbing way. That’s my job!
The director of the video seriously resembled Charles Manson with an affected English accent. My skin crawled whenever he appeared on my screen. Charles Manson was up for parole recently, so maybe it was Charles after all? What better job upon release from prison than directing a RuPaul music video? Surely having mass murder on someone’s resume is a plus in this instance.
The big surprise of the show was having two past "Drag Race" winners make a special appearance, directing the girls in a pivotal scene in the music video. Without naming their names, they looked like drag poo. What is drag poo? Broken glass, wig hairs and cocaine residue. These young men looked like they were in drag for the very first time-mannish mannerisms, bad wigs and all. Needless to say I was appalled. If you could see me right now I am clutching my pearl necklace. Then discretely wiping the remnants off my swan-like neck.
As for their runway looks, let me take a sip of gin with an arsenic chaser before I begin. Chad Michaels, in what was supposed to be a Versace knock-off, looked like the drunken Wilam attacked her before her strut. Hanging pieces of fabric draped off her calcium depleted bones, style-less wig, and all the grand showgirl glamour we know and love her for was replaced with a drag hangover: bad breath, piss stained panties, dead body next to you, while Cher’s "Believe" played on an endless loop.
Sharon Needles obviously broke under the pressure. She came out in what appeared to be a dirty T-shirt, with a potbelly, plastic tentacle fingers and a fried wig. It looked like what Sharon would look like in the morning before she puts on her makeup. Back to the drag factory with you my dear!
Phi Phi O’Hara was the best out of the bunch. (That is not saying much.) At least she looked like she was trying to achieve something with her look. What that was I am not sure; perhaps a Mexican hooker just about to be beheaded for screwing over her pimp? I wanted to beat her with a bag of tangerines - it leaves no visible bruises, but crushes your internal organs. Afterward you can also use the pulp to make a refreshing glass of juice. Put a little Vodka in it, and you’re good to go.
To add insult to injury, no winner was decided by show’s end. We have to wait for the reunion episode to find out who will be crowned. In fact I am not watching next week’s episode; this will be my last installment on this topic. "Drag Race" has taken too much of my life already.
Who really cares who wins anyhow? They all suck drag donkey dick. What is drag donkey dick? Look under RuPaul’s skirt, gentle readers, to find out. That is what the winner of the show had to suck to take home the coveted title of America’s next drag super star!