Columnists

  • PRINT
  • COMMENTS (0)
  • LARGE
  • MEDIUM
  • SMALL

Hello gentle Americans. I almost lost my breath at my holiday show, "Lettuce Rejoice" (at the Metropolitan Room), this Christmas Eve.

After I was done talking about the story of Chanukah, I nervously watched my vodka shake in my martini glass as the room began to rattle. Audience members dropped to the floor and hid under their tables, as one person screamed out, "Earthquake!" My dress was too tight for me to drop along with them, so I braced myself against the piano as the room began to fill with this white, glittery smoke that smelled like frankincense, lavender and a camel’s ass. When the smoke had cleared, standing before me, was Jesus himself. Well, he was not standing before me; he was standing upon the piano. I know, you’re rightfully asking yourself, "How can a grown man stand on a piano?"

Let me respond by saying this: Jesus was much shorter than I had expected. Perhaps drag queens have grown over the millenniums, but standing at only 2 inches high, he looked me straight into my breasts and said, "I have come here tonight to wish you and all your fans a Merry Christmas, and to remind you about the true meaning of Christmas -The birth of me, your Savior."

Comments

Add New Comment

Comments on Facebook