dude shops like a lady

About a year ago my husband stopped using his personal Amazon account and started using mine. Neither one of us remembers why he did this, but if I had to guess, I’d say it probably had something to do with a 30-day Prime trial I’d signed up for. But it’s not important. All you really need to know is that he’s used my Amazon account ever since.

Anyway, before my husband started using my account, a brief review of my order history would have revealed a lot of items like this:

  • Makeup
  • Nail polish
  • Twee video games
  • Shape wear
  • Jewelry
  • Skin care products
  • Women’s clothing
  • Women’s accessories

But over the past year, the order history on my account has started to look more like this:

  • Makeup
  • Nail polish
  • Bike parts
  • Sweat socks
  • Twee video games
  • Barbecue gloves
  • A weather radio
  • More bike parts
  • Shape wear
  • Jewelry
  • Skin care products
  • Still more bike parts
  • Women’s clothing
  • Tennis tape for men

Just a stereotypical heterosexual married couple sharing an Amazon account. As you do.

No big deal.

A little while ago, however, after our end-of-the-year flurry of Christmas purchases, Amazon began suggesting some very interesting (and slightly confusing) items as “Featured Recommendations.” Read on and make of them what you will.

Recommendation #1

Kryolan Eyebrow Plastic Stick Eyebrow Cover Wax

Kryolan Eyebrow Plastic Stick Eyebrow Cover Wax

When this recommendation popped up on the bottom of my screen, it struck me as a little strange, but not that strange. I buy a lot of makeup, and this is essentially stage makeup, so it’s not a ridiculous leap for the Amazon algorithm to make.

Also, don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t complaining. It was makeup. I love makeup. If anything, I wanted to take a closer look. So I checked out the reviews, and that’s when I read that one reviewer had purchased this particular product because he’d “started doing drag performances in the area and needed a good way to conceal [his] eyebrows.”


Okay. Well, no big deal. Drag queens wear makeup too. Obviously.

But then I noticed that Amazon had recommended at least half a dozen more Kryolan products for my perusal. Which seemed weird, because I’d never even heard of that brand before. I’d certainly never bought any of its products. So I got to Googling.

It turns out that Kryolan cosmetics are in fact the cosmetics of choice for many gorgeous queens. And as I read more about the Kryolan product line, I came across quite a few testimonials echoing this sentiment:

“Kryolan: This has been the best makeup I have ever used in my drag career and [I] will stand by them. I use their TV Paint Stick, which is perfect for stage and photography. Their makeup is meant for stage, theatre, and photography work and this is the product queens should be using.” – Cee-Cee LaRouge, Chicago drag queen 

What a discovery! There was a bunch of kickass drag makeup in my Featured Recommendations! I was suddenly torn between a) wanting to buy about a thousand dollars’ worth of Kryolan products RIGHT NOW and b) wanting to rewatch all five seasons of RuPaul’s Drag Race RIGHT NOW. (Funnily enoughKryolan sponsored Season 3 of Drag Race. Surprised? Of course you aren’t.)

After managing to restrain myself from doing either of these things, it occurred to me that I hadn’t come any closer to solving the mystery of why Kryolan products were showing up in my Amazon recommendations. Well, other than the likelihood that Amazon probably doesn’t know where regular makeup ends and stage/drag makeup begins. Which is kind of shabby for an online provider as massive as Amazon, but clueless straight men. So I get it.

Then I saw these:

Recommendation #2

Elegant Lashes: Black Thick Super-Long 100% Human Hair False Eyelashes for Dancers, Drag Queen, Halloween, Costume, Rave

Elegant Lashes: Black Thick Super-Long 100% Human Hair False Eyelashes for Dancers, Drag Queen, Halloween, Costume, Rave

All right, so this recommendation was a little bit weirder, mainly because I’ve never bought or worn a pair of false eyelashes in my entire life. Still, like the eyebrow cover wax, I guess they kind of fall into the makeup/cosmetics category. And maybe, just maybe, if you’re buying a lot of makeup and nail polish online, there’s a point where Amazon just throws its hands in the air and says: “Girl, just buy some damn lashes.”

Again, not a completely unreasonable stretch. I mean, I personally wouldn’t choose “Black Thick Super-Long 100% Human Hair False Eyelashes for Dancers, Drag Queen, Halloween, Costume, Rave” as my first venture into the land of fake eyelashes, but different strokes for different folks. The world don’t move to the beat of just one drum. What might be right for you may not be right for some. And etc.


Recommendation #3

LoveFifi Men’s Transformation Gaff

LoveFifi Men’s Transformation Gaff

This, in no uncertain terms, is a man-panty. If for some reason you feel awkward about clicking over to learn more, I’ll do you a solid and paste an excerpt of the product description here:

“Our stretch spandex mesh panty redistributes and re-invents your lower body. The front is double lined to flatten your front comfortably. An extra wide cotton-lined crotch provides a soft place to tuck what you’ve got.”

While the majority of reviewers of this product seem to be cross-dressers and transvestites, there are definitely a few drag queens weighing in with their opinions. (I do seem to remember that some queens prefer gaffs to tucking.)








Now. Let’s discuss where in fresh hell Amazon got the idea that I would need to buy a man-panty. I mean, I’ll freely admit that I’ve bought a few some many foundation garments through Amazon. Come on. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Bike short type things to prevent chub rub. Compression rompers. Slips. Control-top pantyhose. Minimizer bras. Seriously, I’m almost 40 and I’ve birthed a baby. I should probably change my family crest to say: “Shape Wear: Now and Always.”

But a gaff is a far cry from a Spanx high-waisted brief. A gaff has a specific purpose and that is to HIDE YO GENITALS. Any gender can partake of one, but typically when you hear the word “gaff” in modern culture, it’s referring to a garment that hides the peen. And I don’t have a peen. And my husband has no desire to hide the one he’s attached to. If anything, he probably wants it to look HUGER.

So why, Amazon? Why are you recommending to me that I wear a man-panty? Or ridiculously long and camp fake eyelashes? Or eyebrow gum? Why? WHY?

Well. Here’s my theory.

If asked to take a look at an Amazon purchase history representing both “stereotypically male” and “stereotypically female” items, I’m guessing that most of us would probably come to one of the following conclusions:

  1. This account is shared by a man and a woman.
  2. This account is not shared, but is owned by one person who makes purchases for a diverse group of people (e.g. a parent who shops for the entire family.)
  3. This account is owned by a cross dresser, transvestite, or transgendered person.
  4. This account is owned by a drag queen.

I’m going to guess that conclusions #1 and #2 are statistically more probable, with #3 trailing from a distance, but still very much representin’. And I feel like a mathematical calculation like a predictive algorithm should take statistical likelihoods into consideration. Right. RIGHT?

But guys. GUYS. We should know that Amazon is not your average retailer. Their gift wrap has achieved record-setting levels of hideousness. And they have DRONES, for Christ’s sake. It should come as no surprise to us that Amazon would choose to fly in the face of probability and jump STRAIGHT TO CONCLUSION #4.


That’s right, ladies and gentleman. It’s the Amazon Drag Queen Algorithm. And I have discovered it.

Don’t worry — I’m not passing any moral judgment on the algorithm in any way whatsoever. I just wanted to point out that I’m pretty sure it exists, and I think this blog post proves it. Before my husband joined my account and started to buy “manly” things? Amazon was all like “Hey. You’re a woman.” After my husband joined my account and started to buy “manly” things? Amazon was all like “Hey. You’re a man. Who likes make up, nail polish, and compression underwear. Want to take a look at our fine selection of drag accoutrements? Step this way!”

Case closed.

(Oh! And lest you think that the Featured Recommendations I’ve already discussed are not enough evidence to support the Amazon Drag Queen Algorithm, the following items were also on my list:

  • wig caps
  • spirit gum
  • silicon breast prosthetics
  • *two* other transformation briefs, including one called the “What a Butt! Bareback Gaff”)

Case DOUBLE closed.

christmas time is heeeere

Over the years, my husband, sister and I have developed a Christmas coping mechanism tradition in which we sing the first line of the song “Christmas Time is Here” from A Charlie Brown Christmas whenever any stressful, dramatastic, or potentially holiday-ruining bullshit starts to go down.

Just in case you need a refresh on the first line of “Christmas Time is Here,” it is in fact:


Remember now? If you don’t, just listen to the Christmas station for 5 seconds. It’ll come on. There’s lounge piano and drum brushes. You’ll recognize it.

Anyway, here are just some of the things that have prompted me to burst into song already this year:

  1. My cat deciding that the absolute best place to pee is “under the Christmas tree” and doing so repeatedly. Resolutely. Relentlessly.
  2. Being afflicted with a crippling backache after wrapping roughly 87 million presents, only to then get into an argument with my husband about whose responsibility it is to wrap the gifts he got for his best friend’s kids.
  3. Getting a horrible stomachache from drinking too much boozy eggnog. In my pajamas. In bed. By myself.
  4. Having to shove my lumpy curvaceous figure into a sausage casing shape-wear every time I put on dress clothes for a holiday event.
  5. My father announcing he would not being attending the Christmas festivities because most of his teeth up and fell out his head.

So. Stressful holiday moments may make my husband, sister and I sing “Christmas Time is Here,” but what do you guys do to cope? Exercise? Nap? Boozy eggnog? Comment below. Also feel free to tell me what’s causing you to break out into your version of “Christmas Time is Here.” I’m listening.

the trouble with yeast infections

A few years ago, my sister Cheeks and I had the strangely mystical experience of suffering from yeast infections at the exact same time.

Behold the chat conversation that followed.



Me: can i just say


Her: me too! it keeps comin’ back
Her: probably because I HATE the yeast infection treatments
Her: so I get the one-day treatment and it totally doesn’t work

Me: i hate them too
Me: that totally just happened to me
Me: i did the one-day treatment and it didn’t work
Me: and now i have to do the week-long cream

Her: it’s bull! shit!
Her: uggggh I hate the cream

Me: My husband was all like: “WHY do you keep buying the one-day treatment?”
Me: and “You always have to do the week-long treatment like 2 days later”





boneitis gif
Futurama (FOX)

Her: omg
Her: and it gets EVERYWHERE

Me: and then i got in the bathtub this morning and a bunch of it blobbed out into the water

Her: oh yeah that’s always fun
Her: and don’t even TRY to wash your vagina
Her: that shit is WATER RESISTANT

Me: and it stays in your vagina for like 10000000 years

Her: and say goodbye to sex for like two weeks

Me: omg *dies*
Me: last night my husband was all “What about with a rubber?” and i was like NOOOoooooooo

Her: he doesn’t understand
Her: tell him to put some mayonnaise and fire ants up his ass

Me: bahaha
Me: he doesn’t understand that if even a molecule of air gets near the yeast you’re like OMG ITCH

Her: laughing soooo hard

Me: the night before last i had to sleep with no underpants on because i was like


meet the husband

So. I thought it only fair to write an intro post for my husband, since I plan on writing a lot about him, and mostly in an exploitative manner because he says and does a lot of funny shit.

English is my husband’s second language, and when we met twelve years ago, he was still getting his mind around the nuances of American vernacular. That’s a nice way of saying his English was super awkward and formal, and as a result his sense of humor came across as basically nonexistent. But he is gorgeous and I am shallow, so it wasn’t a deal breaker.

Over time, and much to my delight, my husband became more and more comfortable with American colloquial speech. And the sense of humor that he’d always had, but was unable to effectively express in English, started to rear its hilarious head.

It was like winning the lottery after I’d already discovered a gold mine. A sexy gold mine. With a Spanish accent.

Now it is many years later and I can hardly remember a time when my husband didn’t crack me the hell up, and I want to share the husband funny with you. So here’s a taste. Wet your whistle. There’s plenty more to come.

Him: *bonks me on the head with his penis*
Me: That totally felt like a hot dog.
Him: It ain’t called a wiener ‘cuz it looks like a bun.

Him: You’ve got a ton of cleavage showing, but your boobs are actually looking very well contained.
Me: Well, I’m wearing an awesome bra.
Him: Bra-vo.

Him: I think Father Winter is here.
Me: Father Winter?
Him: Yup.
Me: I think you mean Old Man Winter.
Him: Nope.
Me: Or Father Christmas.
Him: Nope.
Me: Okay…
Him: You have them confused.

Me: If anything happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.
Him: What if I died? *pretends to be dead*
Me: Wow, it’s amazing how you’re still moving and breathing after you’re dead.
Him: Well, it takes a while.

Him: *on the phone* Are you naked?
Me: No.
Him: The answer to that question is yes. No matter when, no matter where.
Me: Oh.
Him: Let’s try again. Are you naked?
Me: Oh…um. Yes.

Him: Look what I got! Scratch-offs! You can scratch them off if you want.
Me: I don’t want to scratch them off. That was a waste of two dollars.
Him: Fine. When I win millions of dollars, you can’t have any.
Me: Fine.
Him: *scratches them off, loses* You owe me two dollars.

Him *to our son*: Mama has to pick up the cat from the doctor so it can come home and pee in our bed.

Him: I never get sex.
Me: Dude. I just offered yesterday.
Him: But then I reminded you that I hadn’t showered in two days and you were like… *makes a noise like thwip thwip thwip*
Me: What is THAT supposed to mean?
Him: It’s the sound of your vagina flying away.

Him: *looking at some expensive merchandise* What are these things made of, gold and human balls?

That’s all the husband funny I have for now…hope you enjoyed it. And don’t worry. There will be more.

Oh, yes. There will be more.

an ode to the hairs on my chinny chin chin

There are many ugly hairs
that sprout out of my chin.
I pluck them out or shave them off
but they just come back in.

Back in my more girlish years
I had just one or two.
But after I turned thirty-five
a mighty forest grew.

Now it makes no difference
how much I depilate.
A quick look in the mirror and
I’ll spot one more or eight.

I carry tweezers with me
because I never know
when a wild chin hair will appear
and it will have to go.

Someday I will just give up
And without shedding a tear
I’ll stand up tall, puff out my chest
and grow a fucking beard.