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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!