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ANNOUNCER:
Ladies and gentlethems,

put your hands together

and welcome
the Mouth of the South,

the keeper of
the gay agenda,

that southern belle herself,
Ginger Minj.

-

Welcome.

It's so nice to have you.

My name is Ginger Minj.

And I'm an overweight,
asthmatic,

change-smoking
cross-dresser...

...from Orlando, Florida.

Do you like my dress?

It's a good dress, right?

These bitches
are like, "No. From the side,

"you look like
Alfred Hitchcock."

I'm certainly feeling
my Judy Garland

farm bitch
fantasy tonight.

AUDIENCE: Whoo!

Ooh! And I feel pretty.

-Oh, so pretty!

I feel pretty, and witty,

and... what? Okay.

AUDIENCE: Gay!

Gay! Oh, be careful.
I'm from Florida.

-Don't say that too loud.
-

We laugh, so we don't cry.

I found a straight man.

You have no clue
what the fuck

I'm talking about tonight,
do you?

Don't worry, honey.
We will be gentle.

I promise,
if you just pay attention,

we're going to have you
speaking fluent fag

by the end of tonight.

Oh!

And just so
you will know,

and your children
will someday know,

that is our word.

Okay?

-Yeah.

So...

Feel free to
appreciate it.

Tonight you have
my permission
to laugh at it.

-But don't ever say it.
-

Unless you pull my hair
a little bit first,

'cause I do like that shit.

Are there any other
straight men here tonight?

-MAN: Whoo!
-Oh! Aw.

Oh, that is sweet.

Aw, you see, that's why
we call this a "drag show."

Yeah, 'cause the middle-aged
white women

keep dragging
their husbands here
night after night.

Nah, I love
straight men, though.

Oh, my God, straight men
are some of the best

lovers I've ever had.

And it is good
to see you again.

All right, so, in honor
of how

-pretty I look tonight...
-

I thought we'd kicked
this whole show off

with a great
big musical number.

* Momma always
Showed me off

* To the ladies
After Sunday Church

* She'd say
Spin around, child
In your blue dress

* Show 'em all
Of Momma's work

* And I knew that I had
A beautiful smile

* And a voice
Like an angel...

Let's not get
carried away.

* But I look like Dolly
When I dress for parties

* 'Cause every time
Momma would say

* She's as pretty
As she can be

* Just perfectionary
To a "T"

* And she makes it
Look so easy

* And we know
That she knows

* She's as pretty
As she can be

But she doesn't have
a big head about it.

* Now I'm older staring

* In the mirror

* Wonderin' what the hell
Did momma see

* ' Cause that pretty
Girl spinnin'

* In her blue dress

* Ain't the woman staring
Back at me

* So I paint on a smile

* And I hold
My head high

* So my hair
Don't fall over...

'Cause I'm running out
of fucking hair spray.

* And I look like Dolly

* When I dress for parties

* ' Cause I know everyone
Would say

* She's as pretty
As she can be

* Just perfectionary
To a "T"

* And she makes it
Look so easy

* And we know
That she knows

* She's as pretty
As she...

Okay, now I want to hear
you whistle

if you feel pretty.

I said pretty, not puny.

Come on, put them lungs
behind it.

Looking at you,
I think you could blow
better than that.

That's fine.

You know what?
You're not getting paid
for it anyway.

* All my life, I've heard
People say

* Pretty is all
I will ever be

* But if they looked inside
They might realize

* There's a whole lot
More to me

I mean, on top of being
really pretty.

* 'Cause she's as pretty
As she can be

* Just perfectionary
To a "T"

* And she makes it
Look so easy

* And we know
That she knows

* She's as pretty
As she can

* Know that she knows

* She's as pretty
As she...

* Yeah, we know that
She knows

* She's as pretty
As she can be*

Well, that's the song.

Aw. Wow.

How unexpected.

Thank you.

Okay. So you remember
how I told you

that I'm from
Orlando, Florida?

Well, the lie detector
has proved that

-

Forgive me.
I tend to speak

in '90s daytime
talk show quotes.

-Go with what
you know, right?

So I'm not from Orlando.

I'm actually from
this teeny, tiny
little Podunk,

Southern Baptist
town called Leesburg,

which is in
Lake County, Florida,

-which is at--
-

No. If you'd been there,
you wouldn't shout.

It's about 45 minutes
north of Orlando.

And about 45 years
behind it, culturally.

Sweet people, though.

Oh, God.
Salt of the earth,
huge hearts.

Actually, I think
the medical terminology
is enlarged hearts.

What do I know?
I'm not a doctor.

I don't mean to imply that
we're an unhealthy people,

where I come from.
It's just that...

You know,
one day I did see

this woman get so winded
going upstairs,

she had to stop
and catch her breath.

And then I thought,

"The escalator can get
the best of anybody."

Oh, if I could describe
this woman in one word,

it would be sturdy.

Actually, my granny
always said, you know,

you catch more flies
with honey than vinegar.

So you should always
find something
to compliment

on everybody
that you meet.

Like, uh...

Oh. Like that woman
right there.

Hi, you look gorgeous.

I love that haircut.

It's beautiful.
It's so informative.

Yeah, I didn't know that
Fantastic Sams had
a drive through, so...

That's what we call
a vowel movement.

I'm just kidding, girl.

It looks gorgeous on you.

Bless your heart.

-

Oh, y'all know
what that means.

Oh, yeah. "Bless your heart"
is Southern for "Fuck you."

You know, basically,
it's what we say

anytime we want to throw
a little bit of shade

and then blame it
on Jesus.

You know.

I love a teachable moment.

I do.
So why don't we all do
a little group exercise...

-WOMAN: Yes!
-

Oh...

Threw up in my mouth
a little bit,

just trying to say
the word. Um...

Let's do a little
group exercise...

WOMAN: Yes.

Oh, shit. I can do this.

Let's do a little
group activity.

Much better.
Okay, All right.

So I'm going to throw

a little bit of
light-hearted shade,

and then you're all
going to say,

"Bless your heart."

Let's try that. Okay?

Practice round.

A little bit
of light-hearted shade.

AUDIENCE:
Bless your heart.

Oh, shit.

Y'all are good. Okay.
This is going to be good.

Okay so, um,
for example,

you've got more thumbs
than you've got teeth.

AUDIENCE:
Bless your heart.

Or who knew a miniskirt

and an AARP card
could belong to
the same person?

AUDIENCE:
Bless your heart.

Or you are so cross-eyed,

that when you cry,

tears run down
the back of your neck.

AUDIENCE:
Bless your heart.

Some of y'all
are looking up at me, like,

"Oh, like Kennedy Davenport."
Like, ugh!

Oh, like, you're so
fucking close to her.

These people are laughing.

The people in the back
are like,

"Siri, what's
a Kennedy Davenport?"

It's a fancy couch.

-

Southerners love
big words. Oh, shit.

Especially if we can't
pronounce them.

Those are our favorites.

Words mean nothing
to us unless they are
from the Bible.

Or stitched on
a throw pillow.

Sometimes you get lucky
and they're actually both.

Like, um, "With God,
all things are possible."

AUDIENCE: Oh!

Or "The meek shall inherit."

-AUDIENCE: Ah!
-GINGER:

Or the old classic,

"Nice girls swallow."

I actually gave that pillow
to my granny

one year for Christmas.

Oh, she loved it.

She kept it on her couch

so everybody could see it
all year round.

You know, right before
she passed away,

I was like, "Granny, why
do you keep that pillow out?

"Do you know
what it means?"

She said, "Of course I know
what it means.

"I kept it out
all these years,

"so your grandfather
would remember

"that he married
a nice girl."

Bless her heart.

All right, all right.
Now we're going to
poll the audience.

It might hurt a little bit.

By a show of hands,

who thinks that Florida
is the South?

Not in the South,
but is the South.

Okay. All right.
Okay, Good.

And by a show of hands
who does not...

Oh.

I see
we are a nation divided.

Isn't it funny how
art imitates life?

Yeah. I'm referring
to this show as art.

Okay? Just go with me.

Yeah. So, who out there...

Who out there,
by a show of hands,

did not believe
Florida was the South?

-No, no, no, no.

You are completely entitled

to your very
wrong opinion.

You're not the only ones
that feel like that.

Actually, my very first time
on Season Seven,

getting critiqued
on the runway,

Michelle Visage
turns to me and she says,

"Aye, Ginger, how are you?"

And I said to her
in my most

charming Southern accent,

"Well, I'm fine.
Thank you, Michelle.
How are you?"

That bitch had
the nerve to say,

"Where does that
accent come from?

"I thought you were
from Florida."

"Florida is legiterally..."

"...the furthest south

"that you can go
in the United States."

She said, "No, no.

"I had a radio show
in Tampa for years.

"I know for a fact,
Florida is not the South."

Now, y'all know I love
a teachable moment.

So I had to politely
educate that heifer.

"If you go half an hour
outside of Tampa,

"or Orlando, or Miami,

"you're basically in Alabama
with a better dental plan."

I love Florida.

I mean, it gets a bad rep.
I think, you know.

It is Trump country
through and through.

Except Orlando.

Orlando's this beautiful
little blue island,

in the midst
of a big red sea.

Oh, and Lake County...

That's about as red
as you can get.

I'm talking red
as my lipstick.

Red as the bottom
of that woman's

fake Christian
Louboutin shoes,
right over there.

Red for filth.

Maybe that's why
we call them rednecks.

-You know?
-AUDIENCE: Oh!

No, what am I saying?
Nobody in Lake County
has a neck.

Oh, Polk County
is actually where

they filmed 90%
of To Catch a Predator.

You laugh,
but this shit is true.

You can Google it.

They got so much
notoriety from that show,

they have officially changed
the county slogan to

"There's cookies
on the counter.

"I'm going to go
grab my backpack."

Which just
narrowly beat out,

"If there's grass
on the field,
play ball."

-AUDIENCE: Oh!
- Oh.

In all fairness,
most 15-year-olds
in Polk County

look like they're
about 30,

so I can understand
where the confusion
can come in.

Now. Now, Florida's
on this whole

"Save the Children" kick
and yeah,

we should want to save
the children,

but they don't
fucking mean it.

Can I take a moment
while we are right here?

Just since
I have the platform

and I have
the microphone to say...

Fuck you, Ron DeSantis.

They're so caught up on this
"Don't Say Gay" Bill.

And I'm sorry, it took me
a long time

to harness the power
of the word "gay".

So I'll be damned
if some Eddie Munster
looking motherfucker's

going to get me
to stop now.

You know what?

Let's send him a message.

Let's all say it together,
tonight, okay?

-Gay.
-AUDIENCE: Gay!

-Gay!
-AUDIENCE: Gay!

Gay!

AUDIENCE: Gay!

We do have to be careful.
It is Pride Month. If we...

If we say that
three times into a mirror,
Richard Simmons pops up,

kicks us in the nuts
and steals our lunch money.

So the "Don't Say
Gay" thing,

that whole thing
right there.

Supposedly, it's because
the right-wingers fear

that if the children
see how fabulous
our lifestyle is,

then they will also
want to become gay.

Because, you know,
of course, being gay
is a choice.

Honey, I'm here to tell you.

If your surroundings dictated
what you became later in life,

I'd be the straightest
person ever.

I had to suffer through
both of my brothers

clumsily banging out
their girlfriends

in their old race car bed,

and I had to sit through

at least a dozen
of my Uncle Rooster's

very Christian
wedding services
before the age of 10.

It did not make me
any straighter.

Yes, I have
an Uncle Rooster.

Yes, that is
his legal name.

She look mean, don't she?

Wouldn't that make
the most sickening
drag name ever, though?

Rhonda Santis.

Can we just get
a little more political?

Just, like, a little bit?

All right. Caleb.

Caleb, where's my close up?

Okay. Right out here.

If America truly
wanted a leader

with orange skin,

bad wigs, and a toxic
Twitter presence,

we would have crowned
Coco Montrese

the winner of Season five
of RuPaul's Drag Race.

And now
those same people
are like,

"What is
a Coco Montrese?"

So, yes.
Florida is firmly
the South.

Especially North Florida,
where I'm from,

because there's a saying,

"The further North you go
in Florida,

"the further south
you actually are."

-AUDIENCE MEMBER: Oh!
-

Oh, you don't have to
applaud for it.

-It's horrible.
-

You've all seen
those headlines, right?

You know that game?
You can go on to Google,

you can type in
"Florida man",
and any date ever

and the most ridiculous
headlines pop up.

These are just a few
of my most recent favorites
right here.

"Florida man
trapped in unlocked closet...

"for two days."

Ah! We've all been there.
Girl, come out in your own time.

Or...

"Florida man tries to avoid
arrest by cartwheeling away
from police."

I hope he stretched first.

Now, in this culture
that we're in now,

I'm so surprised that we still
give so much power
to the Florida man.

You know,
particularly somebody
like me.

Like, I'm non-binary.

-Why can't we have
a Florida they-them?
-GIRL: Yes!

Include us.

Could you imagine?

"Florida they-them wakes
neighbors by screaming
and pretending to be

-"human fireworks."
-

Can you think of a better way
to make the whole neighborhood
"woke"?

I see some of you out there
right now.

Yeah. You're, like,
"What about
the Florida woman?

"Why can't it be
the Florida woman?"

I think we all know
the Florida men would not
let their women

out of the kitchen
long enough
to make headlines.

Oh, we groan,
because it's true.

You know,
one Florida woman
who didn't give two shits

about keeping in her place
was my granny's neighbor,

Miss Betty Jean Simmons.

She was the epitome
of trailer trash perfection.

Oh, she didn't have
a penny to her name,

but she was all gussied up
for every single occasion
you can imagine.

She was a...
a master baker,

and a cake decorator
at the Piggly Wiggly.

Oh, yeah,
you've been there.

Oh, you know
how prestigious that is.

Everybody talked so much shit
about her behind her back,

mostly because I think they were
too afraid to do it to her face.

But I loved her.

Oh, I thought Miss Betty Jean
was everything, and I wanted
to be just like her.

-It's a song!

Should I sit here?
Will that be pretty?

Look how intimate
we're getting.

* I remember the first time
That I saw Betty Jean

* I knew then and there
That's who I wanted to be

* Yeah

* Long nails, dyed wigs
Tattoos and low-cut blouses

* She was the classiest thing
I had ever seen

* No one said
But everyone knew

* Betty Jean wasn't someone
You looked up to

* She lived two trailers down
But she's uptown stuff

* Sweet as pie
But she's Tennessee tough

* With hair as tall
As the tales that surround her

* She's got $47
In her bank account

* But looks like money
Every Friday night out

* She's too big for this place
But she'll never leave it

* She's a double-eyed diva

* Oh, yeah

* Betty Jean had a face
that looked like Tammy Faye

* Never leave home without it
That's what she'd always say

* Dark eyes, red lips
Drawn on as big as she wanted

* You could love her
You could hate her

* But you can't look away

* No one said
But we all agreed

* There was no one else here
Quite like Betty Jean

* She lived two trailers down
But she's uptown stuff

* Sweet as pie
But she's Tennessee tough

* With hair as tall
As the tales that surround her

* Oh, yeah

* She's got $47
In her bank account

* But looks like money
Every Friday night out

* She's too big for this place
But she'll never leave it

* She's a double-eyed diva

* Oh, yeah

* She's a double-eyed diva

* Oh, yeah

* Now you can't get nothing
Past the people in this town

* So they've all noticed that
I'm wearing her high heels now

* And I live two trailers down
But I'm uptown stuff

* Sweet as pie
But I'm Tennessee tough

* With hair as tall
As the tales that surround me

* Yeah, I've got $47
In my bank account

* But look like money
Every time I step out

* I'm too big for this place
But I'll never leave it

* I said I'm too big
For this place

* But I'll never leave it

* I'm a double-eyed diva

* Oh, yeah

* I'm a double-eyed diva

* Oh, yeah

Dramatic finish.

I'm not done yet.
Hold on.

For continuity, you know.

All right, it's time to poll
the audience again.

Where's my gay man?

-Gay men, yes!

Where my lesbians at?

Oh, good. They're all near
the exit, in case somebody's
car breaks down.

-That'll be good.
-

-Bisexuals?
-

How about my non-binary
and transgendered siblings?
Where are y'all?

-Me too, thank you.

You know, the worst part
about being queer is coming out.

Like, how unfair is that,
that straight people get to skip

that shit and go right
to being happy?

Who out here is out?

Right here, oh.

Oh, were you ever in, girl?

My God, you giggled
and pearls fell out.

-What's your name?

I'm Reggie.

I'm Reggie. I'm Reggie.

I don't have a deep voice,

-Yeah.
-

Love that, Reggie.
How was your coming out?

It was actually super easy.

It was super easy.

Yeah, I put a lot
of stress on myself.

My mom is also bi,
so that made...

Your mom is also bi?

Oh, so it was, like,
in the water.

I had a very, um,
interesting coming out.

So I was
a musical theater nerd.

Who bedazzled all
of my own costumes.

I baked apple pies
from scratch,

and I had an unhealthy obsession
with The Wizard of Oz.

What I'm saying is basically,
Helen Keller could have seen

-I was queer as a $3 bill.
-

"Oh, Oh," what? Too soon?

Come on, it's not like
she heard that joke.

And if she did, she wouldn't
have seen it coming.

AUDIENCE: Oh.

Oh, yeah. Tweet her about it.
Okay.

So, the rest
of the church people
and the rest of my family,

they'd always go up
to my very religious
Southern Baptist mama,

and they'd be, like,
"Why does he look like that?

"Why does he sound like that?

"Why does he do those things?"

And my mom thought she was
coming to my defense

when she would say,
"He's just...

"artistic."

Which, turns out, is Southern
for flaming homosexual.

Every time I tried
to come out to my mama,

she'd stop me and say, "No,

"it's a phase.

"You're just...
You're going through a phase."

-Did anybody else get told
it was a phase?
-WOMAN: Yes.

Girl, what the fuck
does that even mean?

I felt like every time
I went through another phase,
I got gayer and gayer.

-Yeah, Phase one.

Experimenting with
the neighbor boy.

-Phase two!
-

Experimenting with a hot dog.

-Phase three.
-

Experimenting with
the neighbor
boy's hot dog.

I was always first in line
at the community cookout.

The hot dogs always tasted
like shit, though.

-Slow burn, yeah, yeah.
-

-Oh, shit.
-

Ooh, that makes me
want a hot dog real bad.

-Mm-mmh.
-

Oh, yeah.
That was scrumptious.

I am so non-binary,
my car runs on gender fluid.

Oh.

"The gays,"

as my sister likes to refer
to, "the gays."

I think she thinks
we all live on the same block.

"The gays."

We've long been referred to
as "friends of Dorothy."

PERSON: Yes!

Yeah, and supposedly
that's because Judy Garland

played little Dorothy Gale
in The Wizard of Oz

and sang the ever iconic
Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

The gays loved it so much,
we actually adopted the rainbow

as our international
symbol of pride.

Which is so ironic,
considering how difficult it is

to make any of those colors
work together in one outfit.

The rainbow is to the gays,

as cheetah print is to girls
from New Jersey.

Like, you know,
it doesn't look good
on anybody,

but damn it, it is part
of your heritage.

So you cover yourself in it
from head to toe,

and you dare anybody
to call you tacky.

But enough about
Michelle Visage.

Has anybody actually seen
The Wizard of Oz as an adult?

As an adult... So you know,
Dorothy's friends
in that movie

are the gayest homosexuals
in all of gaydom.

She's, like, she clicked
her heels and said,
"There's no place like homo."

The Scarecrow, ugh,
this brainless twink...

...who dances
his way through life
without a care in the world,

like a drunk at an office
Christmas party.

Or the Tin Man,
who is quick
to remind everyone,

"Oh, I have no heart."

But then cries
at the drop of a hat,

like Tammy Faye Bakker
at a Save the Souls convention.

Or the Cowardly Lion,
a furry nelly bottom...

...who depends on his
best girlfriend to drag
him through life.

Co-dependent drama queens.

All of 'em.

You can keep all the other
characters though. I didn't
give a shit about them.

I only liked one person
in that movie.

And it was the Wicked Witch
of the East.

Y'all know the one,
fashion icon.

WOMAN: Yeah!

Designer pumps,
bold sock choice.

Just daring enough to gussy up
her basic black dress
with a house for a hat.

Oh, she was sickening.
Oh, I wanted to be her.

Well, my parents worked a lot
when I was younger.

My siblings were all older
than me, so I had a couple hours
every day

when I would come home
from school.

So I'd go rummaging
through my mama's closet,

and I pick up her red
come-fuck-me pumps.

You know the ones.

And the black lacy negligee,

and I'd run to my bedroom,
lock the door,

put it on and just pay homage
to this tragic fallen figure.

And then one day, I guess
I lost track of time

and my daddy came home early
and he found me,

and I thought he was gonna
whoop my ass.

But, he just looked at me
and he was, like,

"Your mama can
deal with this."

And I thought
I'm in the clear,
because I knew my mama

would have my back
no matter what.

Wrong.

She came in,
and that bitch
let me have it.

She said, "You scuffed up
the toe on my shoes.

"You put the heel right through
the lace on my nightgown
and destroyed it.

"Now, if you want to continue
to act a damn fool,

"you need to get some shit
of your own."

Epiphany.

As luck would have it,
it was 1989,

which was the 50th anniversary
of The Wizard of Oz,

and our local Kmart
was stocked
full of merchandise

to commemorate the occasion,
and they had a pair
of ruby slippers.

They were hideous.

They were like a... tomato red,
hard plastic sling back,

with just some little specks
of silver glitter embedded
in it.

Oh, this little PVC bow
on the peep toe.

And a quarter-inch heel that
even Alaska Thunderfuck

would be proud
to wear on television.

And I wanted 'em. Ooh,
I begged for those shoes.

I said, "If you give me
those for Christmas, sir,

"then I'll never ask
for anything again."

My dad was, like,
"What? Speak English."

So Christmas morning comes
around and I open up
this amalgamation

of my father's shattered hopes
and dreams for me.

You know, like a baseball bat
and, ooh, a football helmet.

But no ruby slippers.

AUDIENCE: Aww.

I know.

So later that day,
we were at my granny's house,
having dinner

and I guess I was wearing
my emotions on my faded
glory sleeves and...

Three of you are really
fucking old

if you laughed at that
reference. Love that.

Well, what a journey for us,
you know.

So my mama, she says,
"I need you to join me
in the guest room,"

which is just Southern
for "I'm about to whoop
your ass."

So I follow her
into the guest room,

I close the door,

and when I turn around,

she's standing there,
holding this box wrapped
in yellow wrapping paper.

And before she would
give it to me, she said,

"Now, this might have to be
our little secret.

"I don't think a lot of people
are gonna understand this.

"But hopefully these will help
you walk a little bit taller."

-AUDIENCE: Aw!
-I know.

So I ripped it open.

And there they were,
my ruby slippers.

-Oh, oh!
-

My family.

I wish I could say I remember
taking this photo, but it's all
a blur to me.

They're part of the witless
protection program.

Yeah, so I'm actually the...
Look how cute I am down there.

The youngest of four.

My sister Stacy
is the oldest of us

by 10 years, almost to the day,
and she is a Special Education

fourth grade teacher
from my mama's first marriage.

Now, she's a teacher
in Lake County, so...
.

Yeah, she can't
spell spaghetti.

This is a true story.

We went to Ikea,

we got those little containers
that you can write on
with the chalk,

and I woke up one morning
after we got them,

that you could tell
they had been erased
like 12 times.

It was spaghetti inside,
and she had written on
the front "string noodle."

So good for Florida,
you know.

I have two brothers.

Uh, there's John Justin,
or JJ for short,
and Richard the Third.

My family is not fans
of Shakespeare.

They're just very unoriginal
when it comes to naming
children.

They're both from
my daddy's first marriage.

I was the only fruit
of their loom,

so to speak, which you think,
would automatically make me
the favorite.

But you would be wrong.

See, my daddy had already
had two boys at that point,

and all he so desperately wanted
was a little girl of his own.

Be careful what you wish for.

The Good Lord works
in mysterious ways.

Oh, shit, that sounds
like a pillow. Yeah.

Oh, my dad! My dad is actually
here tonight, everybody!

Dad,

come on, stand up.

Dad, stand up.

Oh, I guess he left, uh,

he went to get some milk...

when I was six, um...

I do that at every show
hoping one day he'll show up
and love me.

AUDIENCE: Aw.

Fucking with you.

My dad and I love each other.

Well, love is
a very strong word.

Well, since he ain't here,
let's talk some shit. Okay?

My daddy actually left my mama
two days after Christmas.

For his
high school girlfriend!

Whom we lovingly refer to
as the rat-faced bitch whore.

It was just so expensive
to get monogrammed
every holiday, you know.

Luckily,
it didn't last long,

because my daddy left her
when he met and married

my mama's best friend.

And now the three of them are
like thick as thieves.

How's that for Southern,
Michelle Visage?

I mean,
I know it sounds like

the worst episode
of Jerry Springe ever,

but there's got to be
a valuable life lesson in there
somewhere, you know, like...

Let go and let God.

-Oh, yeah. Shit, that sounds
like a pillow. That's nice.

My dad was the type
that didn't like the fact

that I switched around
too much,
or I lisped when I talked.

So he tried to toughen me up
in his own misguided,
macho way.

He enrolled me in every sport
you could think of.

And I told him, I was like,

"Dad, I'm totally
into water sports,
you know."

He never got the hint, no.

So instead,
it was baseball,

where I loved the uniforms,
but I hated the game.

Uh, basketball...
which is just cruel

for a short, fat, white kid
that's not even five feet tall.

Uh, race car driving,
and soccer, pickleball.

You name it,
I was bad at it.

Except football.

Which, ironically, is
the only sport that requires
more padding than drag.

My teammates loved me.

Oh, God.
Look at these shoulders,
you know.

I started that season
as a tight end,

and I finished
as a wide receiver.

Come to think of it,

I was better with the players
than I was at the game.

You know, I learned
at a very young age,

if you can't run your legs,

you better learn
how to run your mouth.

Luckily, I never got
too hurt,

except for my ego.

But my mama, oh, she was
the complete opposite.

She was a demure, laid-back,
Southern, Christian, White lady.

And she had a way of speaking
that was all her own, like uh,

she would refer to my sister
Stacy as a free spirit,

which turns out,
is just Southern for slut.

Or to my brothers
as rough-housers,

which turns out,
is Southern for assholes.

And to my dad as
"his own man",

which is just Southern
for "fucks anything that walks".

And she, it is in her DNA
as a Southern woman,

to collect things.

Like spoons and shot glasses
from different places.

Like, not towns
that she's visited,

just restaurants that
she's stolen them from.

Um, husbands, or...
Oh, my God.

Precious Moments figurines.

-Have you seen those?
-AUDIENCE: Yeah.

Those things look like
anemic angels.

Basically, they're
what would happen

if Beanie Babies
went to confession.

So I do not have room
in my house
for no damn haunted dolls.

So I do not collect
Precious Moments.

I collect precious memories.
Yeah.

And my mama, oh,
she's a big part of
all of those for me.

My favorite thing to do
ever since I became
"famous".

I'd say fame-ish, really.

My favorite thing
to do is say,

"Mama, put on your fanciest
JCPenney dress,

"and let me take you
down to the fanciest
restaurant in town."

And then I'll watch her try to
pronounce the words
on the menu.

Oh, some of my personal
favorites are "cream burley".

Or "filet migknown".

Or my personal favorite,
"ex car got".

The waiter once tried
to correct my mama,

and she told him he could
"ex car go" fuck himself.

So we are no longer
allowed at the Denny's.

Which makes Christmas
awkward for everyone.

But I do have to tell you
she is the Whitest woman
I know.

Mayonnaise is too spicy
for her.

She thought she was stepping
outside of her comfort zone

when she had a piece
of German chocolate cake.

But I give credit
where credit is due.

She finally leaped firmly
into the 21st century this year

when she got her very first
iPhone.

MAN: Whoa!

Oh, you know
where this is going.

Oh, my God,
she doesn't know
how to use it.

But she said it is
totally worth the price,

because it never breaks

when she throws it
against the wall
in frustration.

And my favorite thing
is when she FaceTimes me.

Do any of you have parents

that don't know
how to use an iPhone,

that try to Facetime you?

Oh, my God. It's like your
own personal sequel
to The Blair Witch Project.

Including the shaky footage,
the up-the-nose shot,

not much of a plot.

And the best part is,

she doesn't know
how to flip the camera

by like,
tapping the screen.

So she has to take the phone,
physically turn it around...

And point it at what
she's talking about.

But she doesn't have
very good aim.

Which my father learned
after their divorce.

So instead of seeing like,
the dog in a cute costume,

all I can see is a long shot

of my sister sweating
to the oldies.

She's not into exercise.

She just has
really old boyfriends.

Yeah, so I just close my eyes

and pray for it to be over
as soon as possible.

Can I get my inhaler, please?
My asthma's acting up.

Oh, my God.
My asthma's awful, y'all.

You know,
when I was younger,

my asthma was so bad,
it kept me
from chasing my dreams.

'Cause I would get winded.

First time I ever had sex,

I thought this guy
was making fun of me.

He's behind me.
He keeps saying,

"Just breathe,
just breathe."

"I can't breathe, motherfucker.
I've got asthma."

I was in a gang once.

Yeah.

When I was younger...
Oh, God.

I got so jealous every year

of all the kids
that got to go to like,

science camp,
and theater camp,

and any other sleepaway
summer camp program.

I mean, I was
the campiest person
in my town,

and I was never
allowed to go.

I was even jealous of the kids
that got to go to fat camp.

I mean, they had to go away
all summer long

and have
all these adventures,

and then come back
thinner, tanner.

Just a hint of melanoma,
you know.

Seemed very exotic
at the time.

The only summer camp I got to
go to was a free day camp,

which catered to children
with severe asthma.

Oh, it was as fun
as you can imagine.

We did all the usual
summer camp things,

like swimming and playing ball
and putting on little plays.

In our case, it was more like
dangling our feet in the pool

and scratching our balls
and reading plays.

The only excitement
we ever got

was when our poorly vetted
teenage counselors

accidentally mixed up the bin
of our rescue inhalers.

Then we got to play a fun game
called Get High or Die.

I won.

But we still miss Timmy.

They called us
the Boggy Creek Gang.

Our gang sign was
"Slow, Children At Play".

So when I was
growing up,

the only other movie
that came kind of close

to The Wizard of Oz for me
was Showgirls.

Y'all know the one.
That 1993 hit,

where Elizabeth Berkley
from Saved by the Bell

showed off everything.

Except any real
acting ability.

Oh-ho! Watching her spastic
performance in that movie

"so excited, so excited."

I mean,
what gay boy didn't want
to come bursting naked

out of
a paper mache volcano

and an explosion of feathers
and rhinestones?

Oh, side note,

I totally got disqualified
from the school science fair
that year

for my big gay
exploding volcano.

Which sounds a lot dirtier
than it was.

Although it was
really dirty.

Uh, come to think of it,
it was the first time

it took a whole crew
to clean up
one of my eruptions. So...

Anyway, back to Showgirls.

So if you think about it,
Showgirls and
The Wizard of Oz...

practically the same movie.

Orphan girl goes
to this fabulous new land,

kills the wickedest bitch
in town,

learns a valuable
life lesson,

and then returns home
in a pair of designer clothing,

never to have to deal
with the consequences
of her actions again.

It sounded like
a sweet deal to me.

And that movie made me
want to become

a Las Vegas showgirl so bad.

But it was before I knew
what drag was.

You know,
it wasn't till later,

when I learned
from icons and legends

like RuPaul and Divine

that you could
put a wig on

and trick people
into giving you money.

P.S. Thank you for the money.

But before I learned
that valuable life lesson,

oh, I had every kind of job
you could imagine.

-Blowjobs.
-

Hand jobs, rim jobs.

Ugh, I was a terrible
sex worker.

I gave away way too many
free samples.

So then I became a waiter,
and a substitute teacher,

a bachelorette party planner.

-A Tupperware representative.
-

And, by the way,
it is not a pyramid scheme.

It is a triangle-shaped
opportunity...

for you to get
your friends involved.

And for them
to get their friends...

Okay, yes,
it is a pyramid scheme.

But it took me a long time
to learn that.

So a couple months later,

I was friendless
and completely bankrupt,

both morally
and financially,

and all I had to show for it

was a a hoarder's house
full of 14 ounce dishes

that burped more than
my mom trying to eat
a spicy "brew cheddar."

So then, I got a job
at a mental health facility...

that I would later become
a patient of.

That was more of
the state's choice
than mine.

I swear,
you try to re-enact

Thelma & Louise one time
while your boss is in the car,

and suddenly you're a threat
to yourself and everyone else.

Some people have
no sense of humor.

Now I knew that
if I was ever going to reach

the glittery volcanoes
of my dreams,

I needed to get out of
Leesburg to do it.

So on my 18th birthday,
I sold everything I had.

I put all the money
in my man purse,

and I headed straight
for "The Big Apple."

Which turns out,
is New York City.

Did you know that?

I didn't, I didn't.

I probably would have gone
straight to Las Vegas

if JetBlue had had
a direct flight.

But I landed here in Manhattan,
and then I immediately panicked,

because I did not have
a place to live, or a plan,

or for the first time in
a very long time, a job.
Yeah.

So I took every bit of work
that came my way.

I, uh...
Oh, I was a...

"a specialty saleswoman"

at a "pop up boutique"
in Times Square,

which turns out,
was just a "folding table"

on the corner of
46th and Broadway

with "I heart New York"
T-shirts.

I was a sous chef
at Cookin',

which is just
stomp with food,
you know.

Yeah, no hot dogs,
though.

They probably
would have been a hit

if they had added hot dogs.

Uh, I was...
Oh, I got a job working for

Beauty and the Beast
on Broadway.

Selling merchandise
in the lobby.

Okay. Yeah.

I'll admit that hawking
overpriced plastic roses
was not my calling,

but I only had to do
that shit at night.

So my days were free for me
to try to find my big break.

Mm-hmm.

So one day,
I came across
this audition notice.

And then after
I wiped it off...

I saw that it was
for a brand new play

called Boys, Boys, Boys.
And I like the title.

It said they were
looking for eight men

willing to go
completely naked.

Or two drag queens.

Now, I was thinner than I am,
but fatter than I was.

So I knew that nudity
was off the table for me.

And I thought,
"Drag can't be
that difficult, right?"

So I borrowed this fried
Dora the Explorer
looking wig,

and I slathered my face

in the finest Duane Reade
cosmetics I could get.

Come to think of it,
I looked more like

a cracked out Carnie Wilson
than anything else.

You know, like after
somebody had already asked her
"to hold on for one more day."

But I went
to that audition.

And I got that job.

Uh-huh.

And it propelled me
straight to the Z-list.

And it's wonderful. This time,
there were plenty of hot dogs

raining down from the sky,
smacking me in the face.

And they tasted
like success.

And a little bit like shit.

But since then,
I've traveled the world.

I've done movies
and television.

This standup
comedy special!

Actually, a few months ago,
I even got to make my dream

of becoming a Las Vegas
showgirl a reality!

In all fairness, I did end up
looking more like the volcano

than the diva
coming out of it.

But who was Dorothy

without the house that brought
her to Oz, you know?

You know, all in all,

it has been a really
tough road up-hoe,
so to speak.

But I've learned that you have
to appreciate the present,

look towards the future,

and never look back.

Which is easy
if you don't have a neck

and your head
won't turn that way.

In my life,

I have always managed
to kind of stumble into things

that just kind of happen
to work out in the end,

and I think that
that's because

I've never closed myself off
to any opportunity.

And that's because
my grandmother always
had a saying

when I was growing up.

She said, "You gotta throw
everything up against
the wall

"to see what sticks,

"because you never know
what you're going to be
good at."

Oh, shit! That sounds
like another pillow.

-

Oh!

It sounds like a song, too.

You can clap if you want.

* There's as many trees
In the woods

* As jobs that I would take
If I could

* I'm not saying
I'm qualified

* But I'll be damned
If I ain't gonna try

* I've never heard of it

* But I'll
Figure it out later

* Might not be an expert

* But I'm not a faker

* If they say they want
A dominatrix

* Then I'm going to learn
To crack that whip

* If they say
They need a diner waitress

* Then you're gonna watch me
Earn that tip

* 'Cause I get through life
With an open mind

* 'Cause who knows
If it fits

* I throw it up
Against the wall
To see what sticks

Two and the four, white people,
two and the four.

There you go.

* All that money
There in the jar

WOMAN: Woo!

* I earned when I was younger
Racing cars

* And that check
Inside that white envelope

* I got from
Thumping cantaloupes.

* I've never heard of it

* But I'll figure it out later

* Oh, might not be an expert

* But I'm not a faker

* If they need someone
To drive a pontoon

* Then I'm gonna learn
To back it up

* If they say I need
To sell a vacuum

* Then I'm gonna show 'em
I don't suck

* 'Cause I get through life
With an open mind

* 'Cause who knows
If it fits

* I throw it up
Against the wall

* To see what sticks

Breakdown.

* I've never heard of it

* But I'll figure it out later

* Even if that means
I wrestle a gator

* If I'm making honey
in Atlanta

* I'mma do it better
Than the bees

* If I'm movin' Tupperware
in Tampa

* Then I'm gonna sell like QVC

* 'Cause I get through life
With an open mind

* 'Cause who knows if it fits

* I throw it up
Against the wall

* To see what sticks

Big finish!

* I throw it up
Against the wall

* To see what sticks

Thank you and goodnight!