I swear there were more but they have been deleted? Or I am crazy? Or both. Click on the lovely photo.
Archive for the ‘Betzy’ Category
Originally uploaded by The Flaming Curmudgeon.
I just LOVE this hallelujah photo of Betzy’s leap into her second half century of zany dragmania taken by Ross over at Reflections on Saturday, May 30. And now we are done and I thank you for your patience. To view all of the slide shows in this collection you can visit “Betzy’s 50th Birthday Bash – Fire Island Pines – May 31, 2009” by clicking on the lovely photo mosaic.
Paul outdid himself with these last photos. All weekend I had wanted to have Betzy pose at night with the great Atlantic Ocean. Paul caught every subtle nuance of pathos erupting from Betzy’s every orifice. Is the sea swallowing Betzy, or is Betzy being belched forth reborn from the primordial waters at fifty years of age? Click the poor gal’s salty girdle for one final slide show.
Thank you, Glen, for taking this little series of delightful photos with your iPhone. Betzy can make a three-act drama anywhere for no reason whatsoever, day or night. These photos give me a particular thrill. This photo here is mind-blowingly insane. Click on it for a few more. We’re almost done, kids, I promise.
If you are surprised by this you just DO NOT KNOW Betzy with a Z! In the midst of all the lovely folks dancing at High Tea, Betzy felt the urge to remove her dress and dance FREE and JOYOUS in her bra and girdle. If you poor readers have never felt this sort of freedom, I highly recommend it. The preparation is burdensome but unburdening one of one’s outer sheath is the bee’s knees, as the saying goes. Click on the picture for more. And then just wait for the photos from Betzy’s visit to the restroom!
After Betzy’s fun at low tea on May 31st — each breathless second captured by the fastest finger in the east, west, north or south by my dearest friend (I cannot say OLDEST because the dear boy is so very much younger than I) Paul Marte — Betzy had to piddle like there was no proverbial tomorrow! You can see in the upcoming slide show just what the hell torture it is to try and get out of a couple of girdles to let the river run, as ’twere. I don’t know why tossing off my wig helps but it does! I love my Betzy wig, cheaper than hell but it never loses it’s shape. It’s some sort of magical petroleum product and I likely owe all of Betzy’s success to some chic sheik or other and, perhaps, his brother. Aquanet and synthetics — that’s my Betzy! Now, I confess, or reveal or lay BARE is probably the best way to describe it and I bet few of you know this but a girdle — the kind I wear as Betzy, with the legs. Is it a panty girdle? I can never be sure. All I know is it’s the kind dear old mother Betsy (with an “S”) always wore. Tradition! Tradition! Anyway, this sort of girdle actually has a sort of slit sewn into it DOWN THERE so a real woman could maneuver her delicate lady parts to effect relief in the urinary sense. Come over sometime and I’ll show ye. You would think this miraculous exit hatch would be very handy for a drag queen who actually has male organs (sorry if I’m disillusioning any of you, but, come ON!) but you would be wrong. For Betzy at least. Because under this outer girdle with the handy dandy easy-access sort of slit Betzy wears another girdle-type garment (see the previous post on “Betzy prepares”) and under THAT a couple of sort of G-string sort of elastic-type male organ strapping down things. No, I’m not trying to impress you with my own size, indeed, the whole flaccid device seems to know to disappear when I turn myself into Betzy but I like to be sure that during my wild gyrations nothing could possibly sneak out. Too graphic? Tough. I like discussing it because even though I do this and have done this for a while it still astounds me that it is even possible. I mean, it is just plain damn ridiculous. But still, it never FAILS to get laughs and smiles and FANTASTIC PHOTOS (I will never be able to thank Paul enough for his diligence and enjoyment in putting up with Betzy while she posed and posed and posed and demanded more photos! — Indeed, perhaps Betzy only exists in photos, sort of the opposite of a vampire or I Dream of Jeannie or Samantha Stevens) so I won’t complain. But back to the slit in the girdle. See, the male device, the skin of it all is mashed up under all this industrial strength elastic and fabric and Betzy wears acrylic fingernails (you really just can’t do good drag without them, kiddies) and they can snap off so easily and ALSO they can CUT.
Like a knife.
End of discussion. Click on the damn photo (one of my absolute FAVORITES) for the slide show. Betzy pissed successfully and changed into a cooler green A-line frock (thank you Philip!) and went out dancing. The wind picked up and played festive foolish games. Betzy, Betzy, Betzy……. Oh, wait for the next set of photos and if you haven’t figured out where this is leading, well, bless you and your aching naivety.
After saying goodbye to all the lovely boys on the ferry, Betzy dashed to the beach for a zany photo session. Even at 50 the old gal is tireless in her dedication to the photographic arts. See her pose, pose and pose again, eager for Paul to get just the right shot. Watch her leap with joy and roll around in despair. Betzy’s emotions are raw. She even shows the damn piping plovers how to lay their eggs! Here’s a little hint — after you click on the photo to head to the slide show, choose OPTIONS and select FAST and it’s like Betzy is alive on your little computer! Betzy could single-handedly bring back silent movies — or, as she fondly remembers them — FLICKERS!