Plantin' Maters !

When my father passed away in 2005, he left me his old Troy-Bilt tiller. Well… according to my mother, it’s not that old, it just looks old because it’s sat there so long on my side porch still covered with the red dirt of some long-ago planting season. This Saturday dawned very bright and hot and Spring was most definitely in the air. Something hit me then, it was the urge to plant, ya’ll. Before I knew it, I was gassing up the tiller and plowing me up a garden, sweating up a storm and making this huge cloud of dust rise into the sky. I laughed in the middle of all this despite myself, thinking what if my friends in DC could see me now. They’d never believe it a million years. Ken + plowing = not a match. For some reason people think I can’t do "butch" things, but they forget that before I was a queen, I was poor, Southern white trash. My father taught me all the normal things a father teaches his son in the South: How to work on a car, how to fish, how to make a mean fried bologna sandwich and how to fight.

A year or so ago, I mentioned in passing to my ex that I’d had a flat tire the previous day when I was out of town on business.

Dan immediately piped up with, “How long did it take the AAA to get there?”

“What AAA? You think I’d made out of money? I fixed it!” I replied, practically thumping my chest.

“YOU…fixed it?” He asked rather incredulously.

“Yes, I fixed it.” I almost added, 'smartass' but stopped there.

“Well damn, I didn’t know you could do stuff like that...” He said, properly cowed.

I swear, when you're beautiful (don't hate), people think you have a gd brain in your head and that you were just put on the earth to "pretty" things up a bit !


Okay, back to my garden…

Are you wondering what a gay boy would plant? Well, I’m very practical so nothing fancy, just tomatoes, onions and squash. I’m thinking I’ll use my food dehydrator to make sun-dried tomatoes out of all my left-over tomatoes… Maybe, I’ll make up cute little bags of them and give them to my friends as part of a homemade gourmet gift basket at Christmas. Maybe I’ll do the same with the onions too, hmmm. Maybe I should plant some cucumbers and fresh dill… ohhh, and you can’t forget thyme. I’ll make pickles…homemade pickles too! I’ll give everybody pickles for Christmas along with their sun-dried tomatoes. God, somebody stop me, I’m turning into Aunt f**kin' Bea.

The only difference ?  The beard, of course...

Ya'll behave yourself, ya hear. Wear your sunblock! Ain’t nothing worst than an old wrinkled-up queen, okay.


Me, before I put my face on:

Funny, fucked-up ads:

Here's the picture of the "traveling" glory hole from the ad: