Blind Mary Ingalls Singing Please Don’t Let This Feeling End

Sometimes, when I’m allowed to dress myself, I come out of my bedroom looking like a cheap magician.

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I do this to myself.

TJ doesn’t harass me for this because she loves me unconditionally. (P.S. on Friday night we watched Django and I couldn’t stop calling her Tjango. The T is silent.). Also, TJ suffers from a condition known as hair blindness. She can’t tell when people have changed their hair, and deep down, I worry that this handicap might also affect her ability to detect aesthetic wizardry.

Thanks to my new iPhone 5, I am now able to prevent myself from stepping out looking too magical. You might be thinking, Just look in the mirror bitch, but  the mirror can’t help me. It lies. In it, I see myself looking normal. Totally muggle.

My iPhone selfies tell the truth.

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Lesbian magician. I saw men in half.

I changed out of that stupid shirt last night and put on a puffy sleeved blouse that helped me get a couple of steps closer to the look that I really aspire to: 19th century prostitute of color.

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An attraction to dramatic sleeves is my true sexuality.

Anyways, wearing these sleeves and a pair of cavalier boots, I drove TJ to Silverlake, where we met our friends Annie and Schubert at Home. Home is a restaurant. Over quinoa (do I have any readers named Quinoa?) and mac and cheese, TJ confessed something very dire to the three of us: She doesn’t know who The Pixies are. We advised her never to share this information with anyone. We also discussed Justin Bieber’s monkey and what exotic animals we’d own if given the opportunity. I said I’d like to own a husband and wife team of tortoises so that I could hear them make love.

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

Instead of sticking around Home for dessert, we were in the mood for pie, we headed over to the Cavern Club  Theatre for the evening’s big event, Little House on the Prairie-oke.

Needles to say, LHOP-oke was life-changing. The show featured snatches of LHOP, such as when Sylvia, not Plath, got raped by a clown, mashed together with karaoke hits that urged us to continue believin’. The most uncanny thing about the show was that watching it, it felt as if it’s creators had gone inside  TJ’s head, extracted all  her obsessions, seasoned them with even more camp, and then vomited them onto a stage beneath a Mexican restaurant.

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Before the show started, our host did tell us to shut off our phones and he kept stressing how novel it was that we were watching a performance in the basement of a Mexican restaurant. Clearly, this host is unfamiliar with my childhood. He also told us not to take pictures or he’d get all Boston on us. He added that he found Suspect #2 hot.

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In addition to Suspect #1 and Suspect #2, this is the third most recognized Chechen in the United States.

Although LHOP, the TV show, was supposed to be about the sweet, kind Ingalls, the bitches of the Olson family, Nellie and Mrs. Olson, stole it.

Revolutionary Chloë Sevigny impersonator Drew Droege played our Nellie for the night and this brings me to my childhood femme icons.

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As a little girl, I was a tomboy to whom beauty mattered. In addition to my mother, the females I believed to be most beautiful in the world existed inside my family’s television, and I believed that everything would be better if I could be them. Who were these idols? They were:

A) Drew Droege aka Nellie Olson

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That scowl, those curls, that haughtiness. I worshipped that cunt and loved the lengths that she went to to be evil. She inspired me.

B) Nancy Oleson

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This back up Nellie, you know, like the back-up Becky on Roseanne, continued to bring the evil and the hair. She grew up to become Ann Coulter.

C) Mrs. Harriet Oleson

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The epitome of glamour. And what a body. And a good mother. EXTREMELY LOYAL. Had Nelly or Nancy grown up to become Chechen terrorists, you bet your ass Harriet would’ve defended them to the gallows. Take note, mom.

D) Smurfette

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Best television complexion circa 1980s

and finally…

E) Vicki Ann Smith-Lawson

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What’s not to love about a red-headed female robot with severe social deficits? I wanted the dress and the batteries.

To catch the extended run of Little House on the Prairie-oke, go to The Cavern Club Theatre and get your tickets NOW!

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