Wesley Thompson dreamed of growing up and practicing medicine. That is, when he wasn’t dreaming of growing up and becoming Darrin Stephens and marrying a martini-making enchantress. “Once I realized I couldn’t have a witch for a wife,” he says, “guys were my next option!”
With my life-preserver vest snuggly snapped onto my torso and my helmet or “brain bucket” firmly on my head, my partner Dean and daughter Adrianne climbed into the yellow whitewater inflated raft on a cool September afternoon.
My dear readers, we gather once more, as we have for 16 years now, to get updates on pageantry tea and such. It has been a busy time since the last one, for sure. I hope you all noticed or know that the last Rag was so blessed long that it appeared online only — and not in print.
Pluto gets bumped and jostled by Venus, Mercury and Saturn all through October, but in a very nice way. We feel our oats, as well as the oats of others, and can unleash our personal oomph to take us forward and up, up, up. Go for it, whatever “it” is.
A reader wants to know: I’m a drag queen who competes in pageants and shows. But the other performers are not very nice to me. Am I doing something wrong?