Top three reasons to be a drag queen

I do not want to be a woman.

I’ve got nothing against women or lesbians. In fact, I have a fascination for boobies. Just ask my husband every time we go to the nude beach and he elbows me when he catches me tit-staring. The female body is a beautiful thing, and it comes in so many shapes and sizes.

When straight people meet me in drag they always ask me two questions:

1) Do you dress up because you want to be a woman?

2) How do you get that glitter out of your goatee?

You would think the fact that I have a goatee might answer the first question. But it does not. I must explain the reason I dress in drag is for fun and comedy. Granted, men dress up in women’s clothes for so many reasons. For sexual identity. For a sexual turn-on. To impersonate famous divas as entertainment.

I do it to make people laugh. Life is too short to be grouchy all the time.

Everyone wants to know how I got started dressing up in drag in the first place. As a kid did I prance around in my mother’s shoes? Did I have a distant father and over-bearing mother? Do I have a fetish for lacy panties? None of the above. Wrestling and riding steers is what got me into drag. I competed on the gay rodeo circuit for nine years. In 2003 I was named Mr. International Gay Rodeo. It doesn’t get much butcher than that.

The gay rodeo has an event called the Wild Drag Race. Since I was already riding steers, it was a given that I put on a wig and dress and climb on back of a 600 pound snorting heifer. That is how Nuclia Waste was born. Some are born in a manger. And some on the back of a bucking bovine.

To be honest, as a cowboy, drag queens scared me. There were drag queens on the rodeo circuit and I avoided them like they were all named Typhoid Mary. Probably one of them was. I just didn’t get why a man would dress up as a woman. Then I saw the crazy creativity that was the Denver Cycle Sluts and a light bulb went off. Here was a fun and creative way to express myself, still be a man and raise money for charities. I was sold.

And to answer the other question about glitter and goatees: one long hot shower and scrubbing with a little soap and water. Wanna help?

As I began to do drag, I discovered there are three perks to being a drag queen:

1) People buy you drinks.
I’m a cheapskate. I admit it. Drag queens always frightened me so the last thing I was going to do was run up to a drag queen and buy her a drink. But more generous people do that sort of thing. Many do it to thank me for all the charitable work I have done as Nuclia. Keep it up. And thanks in advance.

2) Men hit on you.
While some will see this as a benefit, I do not. The last thing I want to do is have sex while wearing green hair and lipstick. And you really don’t want to be combing glitter from your pubes days later. But there are a group of men, mostly straight, who want to have sex with men dressed as women. They call them panty-sniffers. If you find me sexually attractive dressed like Nuclia Waste, that’s a big turn-off. Hit me up when I am wearing Wranglers and boots.

3) Women tell you what beautiful legs you have.

It’s amazing what a pair of Danskin tights will do for you. Hell, I don’t even shave my legs. But I suppose the lack of childbearing hips and cellulite gives me an advantage. My advice to all straight women: throw on a pair of hose. It can do wonders.