Damn, The Bobbsey Twins are Hardcore

So I’m going to yammer about the new Nancy Drew show again. It’s good, so good, and more people should watch it. I wish I could watch it with you, in fact. All curled up on the couch late at night getting the pants scared off me by by the various and sundry paranormal beings that populate almost every square inch of whatever the name of the town Nancy lives in is. I think it’s Horseshoe Bay. Imma call it Corpseshoe Bay. Because it is littered with corpses and supernatural entities but it still has a real quaint kind of charm. Like, all of the shops there are probably spelled shoppe but also the shoppe is owned by a ghost but nobody know that the shoppe keep is a ghost until they find a clue about it in a hidden compartment underneath an abandoned orphanage and then Nancy demands that said paranormal proprietor helps her and the crew solve a clue. That’s the kind of town it is. I’ve been wanting to go to New England lately and I think it’s entirely because this show combines weird folklore, and spooky things with beautiful scenery. I know, it’s silly, but I’ve still been thinking about it.

Another thing I love is how the source of so many of the paranormal mysteries they solve turn out to be that institutionalized misogyny is a machine that turned any number of women into monsters and robbed them of their humanity and really all of the assholes in town are the villains. Take, for instance, the Aglaeca.

She’s a hella powerful sea witch that the crew summons to politely request the bones of a tragically dead teenager who keeps showing up and crawling around on Nancy’s ceiling and what have you. They do themselves a little researchin’ and find out that the Aglaeca used to be a really smart, very rich, queer lady from France that the town founders murdered and robbed and threw in the ocean and that’s why she’s so pissed.

Nancy even takes the time to berate this self important history guy who writes the Aglaeca off as unimportant to history. She’s like, “Sure, sure, the Aglaeca is trying to kill me and my friends because we tried to do take backsies on a clearly no take backsies blood oath but that on us. Before she was a monster she was a super cool badass and the town founders have her blood on their hands. Screw off, Captain Tweed Coat. I gotta go talk to a ghost about a cipher hidden in a hymnal.”

That’s the girl detective we’re dealing with here. She’s smart and prickly and she has no time for anyone’s bullshit. She’s on a mission. Always. A mission for THE TRUTH. And it’s fun to watch her and her friends be far more complicated than the books would ever allow. The stories are tight and things like Dybbuk boxes (Jewish Folklore!) show up and are casually used to try and capture angry spirits. Oh, and the Bobbsey Twins showed up in the first episode. In this Corpseshoe bay they are not rosy cheeked blond children. They’re grown up Southeast Asian con artists with nerves of steel. It’s really fun.

For the record, I have nothing against rosy cheeked blonds. Back when I was little I myself had curly blonde, blonde hair. I have no idea what happened with my hair. Maybe Nancy and the crew can come down here and solve the mystery of my never settling hair and eye color. I don’t think there are any ghosts around here but I do have some serious cosmic shit happening. Or maybe my next door neighbor is actually the shade of a long dead cowgirl who watches over the land. That would be a real hoot to find out. Anyway. Nancy Drew. It’s good and it’s smart and you should watch it. Trust me.

Bossy Rossy: After Dark

Drag Race Season 13, Episode 6: A Review

3 Pretzels

Actually, no. I’m docking half a pretzels for that abysmal mini challenge. But, okay, let’s get into it, shall we?

Mini Challenge: The library is open…

Because reading is what? FUNDAMENTAL.

I look forward to the reading challenge every season. It’s a chance for the queens to blow off some steam and be good-natured assholes to one another. You guys, this was the WORST reading challenge in Drag Race herstory. Pathetic, truly. Thank the gods Ru looked amazing in his all black ensemble so we at least had something nice to look at.

Just sittin’ here, waiting for the shade.

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Gottmik won but wasn’t funny enough to actually talk about, so let’s move on.

The Main Challenge: Bossy Rossy After Dark

We’re bringing back the Ross Matthews talk show challenge, and I am here for it. Improv challenges make me nervous as hell, but Ross is always fun so it makes it more tolerable.

Our skits/groups were are follows:

My Imaginary Boyfriend Got Me Pregnant: Denali, Rose`, LaLa Ri.

They did an okay job but, as will all improv, they fell into the “I’ll just scream louder than my partners while also doing my best hillbilly accent” trap. The fake southern accents are a real problem for me. Anyway, Rose` was fine, Denali was fine, LaLa struggled a bit.

I Escaped a Mime Cult: Gottmik, Olivia, Utica

Gottmik was great, Olivia killed it while not saying a word, and Utica was weird, but maybe not in a good way.

Basically, I’m Paris Hilton: (not the actual name, but I don’t remember) Kandy and Symone.

These two were perfect.

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Truly. Kandy didn’t act like herself and was a delight. Symone was perfection from the moment she climbed the fence until she left.

And they did it all without screaming. Not one scream the entire time.

I Have a 600 Pound Ass: Tina Burner and Elliott.

Too terrible to even mention.

The Runway: Bead It!

I’m not going to go through all the looks, but I will say I disagree with the judges. Symone should have won. She did equally as well in the challenge and her runway was amazing.

Elliott and LaLa were in the bottom and, unfortunately, LaLa was sent home. I wish the judges could see workroom Lala, because she is hilarious and wonderful. She brought joy to the workroom, and I will miss her.

Oh, the best thing about this week is, I pinned down why I simply cannot with Tina Burner. Elliott is struggling. She confided in Tina, telling her she suffers from clinical depression and is having a moment. Tina confides in Elliott that her mother struggled with depression, so she has seen firsthand what it can do to someone. And I thought we were having a moment. I saw Tina as a caring person who is maybe going to be a good friend to Elliott. I 180ed on Tina. Then she said, essentially, “People who have depression are a real bummer to deal with.”

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I 180ed again, putting me right back where I started. Because math. So, yeah, jury has been dismissed, my decision has been made. I don’t care for her. This isn’t the first time she put her two cents in where it wasn’t exactly asked for, so it’s a running theme for her. I’m done.

While this week was better than last, it still wasn’t great. I think Season 12 preemptively ruined it. It’s not the queens’ fault. Season 12 was just packed with talent, hilarity, killer looks, and grace. It’s going to be hard to top.

Okay, byyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee,

Smoky Lynx

The Woman Upstairs: A Review

3 Pretzels.

You should know that The Woman Upstairs by Hawkins is a modern retelling of Jane Eyre. Look, I hate Jane Eyre. Like, with a passion. Jane as a person bugs the hell out of me, Edward is whatever, I don’t care about his ward, or any of the cousins. The only person I have any time for is Bertha Rochester. She’s the “crazy” one upstairs. If you have somehow not read Jane Eyre, first of all, congratulations.

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Secondly, it goes like this:

Jane is an orphan. She has an orphanage bestie who dies. Jane ages out of the system and gets a job at the Rochester place as governess or tutor or whatever to Edward’s ward. Jane and Edward make google eyes at each other, and he finally asks her to marry him. But while all this is going on, little fires keep popping up in the Rochester estate. Everyone is like, “No biggie. It’s the 1800s. Shit just catches on fire.” The wedding day is finally upon us, and some dude ruins it by being like, “Hold up. Steady Eddie here is already married to my sister.” Jane, for some reason, is overcome by embarrassment and runs away from home. After about half an hour on the outside, she’s destitute and half dead when a crew who turn out to be her long-lost relatives take her in. The Rochester abode eventually burns the hell down, killing Bertha Rochester, the wife, and injuring Edward in the process. He and Jane get married.

Here’s my problem. Everyone is like, “Bertha crazy, y’all.” Maybe, and just hear me out, part of the reason she keeps trying to set everyone ablaze is because she is literally a prisoner. Bertha just needs a good meal, some Vitamin D, and to be let out of her prison. She’s not crazy, she’s pissed.

So, I hate the whole book. Jane is on my nerves, and I care way more about Bertha Rochester, which leads me to the retellings. I keep waiting for a rendition where Bertha is given her moment to shine. I thought The Wife Upstairs might be it. I absolutely don’t want to give away any plot twists but, while I ultimately liked it, it wasn’t the Bertha love story I was hoping for. Maybe I just need to write one my damn self.

So, The Wife Upstairs. Jane – if that’s even her real name (it isn’t) – grew up in the foster system, and now she is an aggressively mad dog walker. I will say, her initial tone and attitude were a turn off, but I got over it pretty quickly. Also, I did the audio version and, occasionally, southern drawl was a little more Foghorn Leghorn than it needed to be, but I was interested enough to look past that, too. But am I? Guys, I know we have a distinct accent. I get it. But we don’t all talk like cartoon roosters or someone from the show Swamp People.

We have all our key Jane Eyre characters: Jane, Helen, Edward, Bertha, John Rivers. They’re all present in pretty creative, modern takes on their original selves.

Jane and Edward both have some secrets. Bertha, who goes by Bea, is a successful designer, owner of the Southern Manors brand. She and her bestie, Blanche, have a frenemy situation going on. There’s plenty of underhanded shade.

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So, basically, the drama is there. The plot twists are there. It’s a good read, probably the best Jane retelling I’ve read to date. Until, of course, I write my ode to Bertha. My tribute to the woman who is ALWAYS, ALWAYS cast as the villain. I mean, she might be crazy, but she for her story to be told.

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So, check out the book. Let me know what you think.

Okay, byyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeee,

Smoky Lynx

Disco Inferno? More Like Episode Inferno

3 Slightly Stale – like maybe they’ve been out overnight, but you’re kind of hungover so you eat them anyway – Pretzels

S12E5 was a drag…and not in a good way. It wasn’t the queens’ fault; it was the challenges themselves.

The Mini Challenge: Design a dress out of the DOPEST wallpaper on the planet and model it in front of a wall of said wallpaper.

For this challenge, the queens got to choose their own partner. Gottmik, last week’s winner, chose her team, going from a couple to a thruple. She, naturally, chose Tina and Kandy. G has fabulous taste in everything but friends. Okay, so, anyway. The gals made dresses out of paper and modeled them. Tamisha and Elliott went with a Tiger King theme and won the day. These same groups were paired up for the most boring disco documentary of all time.

The Main Challenge: Disco, but make it boring.

It was basically like if Time Life did a hits of the ’70s infomercial, but with drag queens. It was…dull. Our queens did a fine job, nothing against them at all, it was just a bad assignment.

I will say, Mama Ru tried. She came in with some Charles Nelson Reilly jokes that bombed because NONE of our queens had heard of Charles Nelson Reilly. They were also pressed like a panini to pick a favorite disco song.

This is mine.

Try having a bad time while listening to Thelma Houston. I double dog dare you. You can’t because it’s impossible.

So, like I said, our queens did fine. Particularly Olivia Lux, Denali, Rose`, and Elliott. They are legit dancing queens. The best part of the episode was when we learned that Denali ice skated on a cruise ship. That bitch is crazy. It could just be my totally justified fear of death by ice skate, but I’m not doing that. I also don’t sports at all, so ice skating is for sure out. Didn’t know you can die via ice skate? Check out Winter: An Ermahgerd Merstery. RIP Janet. Enough about that. On to the runway.

Category is: Little Black Dress

Really? It’s a drag show, and we’re busting out the LBD? Okay.

I don’t have a lot to say about the LBD. Gottmik’s was the teensiest, more of a merkin, really. LaLa’s wasn’t much bigger. Tina added red, yellow, and orange to her dress because of course she did. She is married to that color scheme, and I applaud her commitment even if I hate the colors themselves.

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Some of them, Denali, Kandy, and Symone, who had concepts, others just showed up in little black dresses. The runway was so underwhelming that the judges didn’t even have snarky commentary. The only thing that happened was Loni Love saying, “I liked Elliott’s dress. It was Sex & the City.” To which Michelle replied, “If the city was Albuquerque.” So, while Olivia was given the $5,000 tip, Michelle won the episode with that joke. LaLa is runner up with her comment about an Atlanta shrimp bar. You know what we need? Nay, deserve. A Symone and LaLa talk show. I thought a podcast might work, but I need to see them, too. So, it has to be a talk show. I don’t even care if they have guests. I’m praying this becomes a real thing.

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Tamisha and Kandy, who have been at odds since the season started were our bottom two. Kandy won. Tamisha gathered up her beautiful, handsewn garments, her brass knuckles, and hit the door.

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I love Tamisha, and I’m sad to see her go. She is a delight. She’s blunt AF, but also a delight. Her story of survival, dealing with unseen obstacles, and being a mother to many a drag babies, as well as fathering three babies, is a good one. This isn’t the last we’ve seen of Tamisha Iman.

Okay, so, that’s all I have. This episode was underwhelming, but next week we get Bossy Rossy After Dark. It should be equal parts entertaining and train wreck. I can’t wait.

Okay, byyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Smoky Lynx

Racers, Start Your Engines. Lynx is Back. Kind of.

If you follow both the blog and the Drag Race schedule, then you are well aware your girl is behind on the review blogs. Here’s the thing, Covid left me with the memory of that guy from Memento and the sleeping habits of an elderly house cat. Seriously. One day, I forgot I was peeling an orange WHILE I was peeling an orange. Then, when I remembered, I got so tired thinking about finishing that I took a three hour nap about it. While I do understand that I am incredibly lucky, I do also know first hand that even a mild case of this bitch is terrible. I’m still not back to normal, I’d say I’m about 75%, so well enough to get back to blogging.

Lookie here, I’m not going to do four weeks of recaps. It’s too much. So, we’re just hitting highlights.

  • Joey Jay needs a new catchphrase. “I’m a gay ass bitch” isn’t going to cut it. Facts are facts, America. < Now that’s a catchphrase.
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  • Has Michelle’s hair ever been better? No, America, it has not. That silver streak is every damn thing.
  • I totally misjudged Rose` , and I regret that. She seems a delight. For some reason, I pegged her as an asshole.
  • Tina Burner is on my nerves for reasons I cannot explain.
  • Denali can squat dance with the best of them.
  • Utica is a dream. Maybe I’m just tired, but I would live in that sleeping bag couture.
  • Gottmik? More like Gotthellatalent.
  • Kahmora Hall is stunning. Unfortunately, she was the first one sent packing. I hope she does that thing some queens do where they post what they would have worn that week on Instagram. Her performance as a tree was wooden, but I could watch her wear clothes all day.
  • Tamisha probably has a shiv in her bag and will not hesitate to use it.
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  • Kandy Muse – has no idea what musing means and has some fitting issues. The Smoky jury is still out on this one.
  • Olivia is not one to be trifled with, and she’s stunning. I hope we get to see more of her music and singing talents.

So, that’s where I stand with all the queens. I have extensive notes on each episode, but I can’t actually read my own handwriting, so we’re going from memory. And, as I pointed out, my normally elephant-like memory is currently hot garbage, so we’re rolling with what we have.

That’s a wrap, squirrel friends. I hope to be back next week with a legit and slightly more cohesive recap.

Lynx out.

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