Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Facebook fiasco
Facebook has been forced to apologise to the drag queens it mindlessly evicted from its community. The networking site recently adopted a policy of banning users with “assumed names”, causing it to delete the accounts of artistes such as Paula Pantyhose and Selina Sugartits. The wronged ladies were reinstated after they formed a pressure group to protest against this blatant persecution. You can’t get away with tranny-bashing in this day and age.
Some of you must be wondering whether I have a Facebook account which fell foul of this odious regulation. Yes and yes. Fortunately, I managed to confuse their Gestapo-like detection software by changing the spelling of my noble name. A gorilla who knows how to evade deadly snakes isn’t going to be outwitted by a soulless computer robot. I am nevertheless livid about being forced into this undignified subterfuge. That snot-nosed boy Zuckerberg may think he’s a clever dick, but I’ll make him regret the day he tangled with a jungle ape. The House of Bananas will avenge this insult.
I’d better return to the subject of drag queens before I start thumping my chest. They’ve been popular in Europe for many decades, but most Americans don’t see the point of them. Was there ever a famous drag queen from the USA? My memory may be faulty, but I can’t think of a single one. Perhaps the American public would view them more favourably if they understood their role in society. Their mission, as I see it, is to encourage men to explore their feminine side by putting on make-up, wearing pretty dresses and seducing lesbians. Gay men who become drag queens, like Conchita Wurst, grow beards to avoid attracting lesbians.
When I put this theory to the manager of the safari camp, he predictably attempted to refute it.
“Why would a man want to look like an ugly woman?” he asked. “It doesn’t make sense. If I were a woman, I’d want to resemble that redhead in Mad Men. A beauty with big boobs.”
“It is considered good manners to learn the name of an actress before praising her physical attributes,” I remarked. “Otherwise, you sound like a farmer inspecting a cow.”
“Don’t farmers name their cows?” asked the manager with a smirk.
I sucked my teeth pensively and nodded:
“My mistake,” I replied. “I should have compared you to a bull in a paddock.”
The manager snorted and stomped his hoof in an attempt at irony.
I later identified the actress in question as Christina Hendricks. Her photo is displayed below for readers whose memories require jogging. Obviously, no drag queen could hope to look like her without extensive surgery and hormone therapy. I don’t believe they’re trying to compete with her, in any case. The manager is a very confused man if thinks that being a transvestite means you want to grow big boobs and have your todger chopped off. He needs to get out more and observe the human animal in all its diversity, as I have done.
Labels: big boobs, Christina Hendricks, Conchita Wurst, Drag queens, Facebook, transvestites
