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Most of my dreams revolve around me immersed in a math test knowing no answers and having no clothes. I wake from these visions in a cold sweat, thankful that I’m out of school. This morning I woke in a sweat of a different kind…

When my dream starts, I am a lesbian contestant on RuPaul’s Drag race. You laugh, but it was a serious matter. How is a lesbian supposed to compete with drag queens? I wear makeup to funerals and weddings–these girls sleep with false eyelashes on. All night long I sewed fabric and used cosmetics trying to get the right look to impress Michelle Visage on the runway. My super ego was exhausting me by the time I had my high heels on.

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The only oasis in this desert of drag was that I got to sit next to my crush, Courtney Act. Yes…she is even prettier up close. Smelling like vanilla sugar cookies, she bestowed hints and chirps of encouragement as I donned a long brunette wig. I was ready. I felt fierce and fishy. And then the music started…

Gentlemen…and lesbian…start your engines, and may the best woma—

Bam. At that point my id shoved my super ego to the hardwood floor and I was whisked away from the runway. It was probably for the best. I was sure to snap an ankle in the stilettos Courtney had chosen for my look, but I was willing to give it my all.

I now found myself in a biker bar. A straight biker bar. I was back to wearing sensible shoes and I quickly surveyed my surroundings. It was one step down from a clan meeting. This would usually be the time in real life where I would crawl into a shadow and quickly find the next exit. I want no trouble, but I look gay so in this bar I had found it. I was back to my lesbian self, but still carried the tingle of self-confidence that RuPaul’s contest had accorded me.

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I walked up to the nearest table and threw down my gauntlet. “If I can beat you up, I get to make out with your girlfriend.”

A line of burly, bearded men grinned and accepted my challenge.

In a turn of usual dream events, I remained clothed and had to answer no math questions. I handedly ninja-flipped each and every one of the guys that walked up and then made out with each of their girlfriends. This went on for some time.  I was just about to suggest that one nice blond (as a matter of fact she did look like Courtney Act) go somewhere more private when I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I woke to find my Labrador standing on my bladder. (She’s a blond lab. Coincidence, I think not.) I was sweating and shaking all over, but not in a bad way.

During the following long cold shower I thought what a great day this was going to be. I felt like a drag queen walking down a runway–ready to beat up or make out with anyone that comes my way.

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Outsports: The Baltimore Ravens, Atlanta Falcons, New England Patriots, Indianapolis Colts, Cleveland Browns and New York Jets are the teams most interested in drafting Michael Sam, the Baltimore Sun reports. If drafted, Sam would be the first openly gay NFL player.

The NFL Draft will be held May 8-10 and has seven rounds. Depending on what analyst you read, Sam is projected to go anywhere from the third to seventh round. It’s possible that teams other than the six listed by the Sun are interested in the University of Missouri defender. There are a lot of feints thrown about in the weeks leading up to the draft.

The White House has just given its stamp of approval for the Harvey Milk commemorative stamp. It’s classy. Black and white. Hint of color. Nice portrait.

You will be able to start licking it on May 22nd. Harvey Milk Day.

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Not to be outdone, the Finnish Postal Service will release Tom of Finland stamps in September. They are also black and white with a hint of color, but for some reason I stop short of calling them classy.

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TheAdvocate:

Welcome to the Valley of the Double Entendre, where gay people see meanings that aren’t there … or are they? Could anyone ever have been so innocent?

“I dreamt I was riding your log with your pipe in my mouth,” and other Freudian misinterpretations of advertising from the last century.

 

 

 

 

 

I’m not sure what the demographics of RuPaul’s Drag Race are, but I’m sure I’m one of the only lesbian serial watchers. In a sea of drag queen want-a-be’s, closeted jocks and unhappy suburban househusbands I view episodes like I’m studying for a Physics exam.

Each week I take notes on all the bitchy comebacks and sketch out all the eyeshadow lines and cheek contours just in case I ever need to put on makeup.

I am a student of the show and I love it. I’ve watched all six seasons religiously and have never had a problem until now…

I find one of the contestants incredibly hot. Yes…it’s when he’s in drag…but still, this is upsetting for a lesbian. I go for women exclusively…until now.

Meet my crush, Courtney Act. Australian Idol contestant and RuPaul Drag Queen racer.

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Now I know what you’re saying. You think I just want to *&^% her because she looks like a girl, but that’s where the lines start to get a little blurry. I try to convince myself that she’s a guy and I’d be surprised with what’s below the waist but my libido just says “I don’t care.” I have to admit that I don’t find him as attractive when he’s not in drag (and I guess I get to keep my toaster for that), but I keep asking myself, “Would you hit that” and the answer keeps coming up yes.

I’ve tried the self-help therapy of strolling thru Home Depot carrying pics of Rachel Maddow and listening to Indigo Girls songs over and over, but it hasn’t worked.

Last night I watched my latest episode and Courtney showed up in bed linens and bikini and I was smitten again. It’s getting pretty bad and I think my girlfriend is starting to suspect something is wrong. After the episode I asked her to have sex with me faking an Aussie accent.

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