What a drag...
Care to guess who this winsome lass might be? Yep, that's me in drag. Before you jump to any conclusions, be aware that this was for the office costume gala from several years ago. It caused quite a sensation and I won first place (I think I got $50). It was pretty sure-fire... gone was my long standing facial hair and I did the best I could with my wardrobe and make up, with the help of my wife. It was fun, and please note that I have never (knowingly) worn any women's clothes before or since.

Why do I bring up this bit of self-humiliation? Well, I heard that one of our party gals got out of phony rehab... I believe it was Britney. Somewhere back in the nineties I saw something on MTV... it was some clip of a girl talking about how she had rocketed from coffee-house guitar strumming to three minutes of fame in a video, all because she was a comely lass. These were the days of Jewel and Sheryl Crow -- genuine talents in my book, but it was clear that looks mattered. I was a forty-ish guitar strumming goofball in coffee houses now and then, so I came up with the following, which seems more relevant than ever. It got a laugh or two. (Please note: I don't like poetry on blogs, but this is for a special occasion. Celebrities don't get out of rehab every day... or do they?)

Pretty Girl
I used to wanna be a British rock star,
what a charming bloke I thought I'd be.
But that was then and this is now,
and all that glam seems so seventies.
Who wants to live in yesterdays?
It's an ever changing world.
Now I have one ambition,
to complete my mission,
I should be a pretty girl!

Yes you heard me right,
I wish I may I wish I might,
someday be a pretty girl.

And not just any girl mind you,
but one with a voice clear and high.
An octave or two, yeah that oughta do
and if I really really really really try,
they'll put me on MTV,
and I'll be on top of the world.
I'd have what it takes,
I'd get all the breaks,
if I was a pretty girl.

And I'd offer all the wisdom that four years
of high school can bring.
In my mini-skirts, protesting my hurts,
every time I sing
about all my magnificent lovers,
none of whom has a clue.
Ah they're not the best,
but never-the-less
I'd have a better love life
than you or you or you!

Oh it's not a change in wardrobe that I need,
no wig, no shave has the ability.
No surgeon's knife can change my life,
and give me wondrous fertility,
and make the world my oyster,
and me the loveliest pearl.
Is it too much to ask, too great a task,
for me to be a pretty girl?

Yes you heard me right,
I wish I may I wish I might,
someday be a pretty girl.

© 1998 Dan Thomason