A very little backstory.
I'm very affected by nostalgia. Sorting through my bookcases over the holiday break I kept running across old pictures of me, which sent me reeling back over the years, and plummeted me into a dark depressive spiral which ended with me waking up walking along a major highway in tattered clothing, muttering "Why me? Why me?" over and over.
Okay, so maybe not. Try this.
This morning I talked a lot of trash against Ron, one of the morning DJs at Q93 FM. I was pretty hard on him for wearing Leggs brand hosiery for women, even though he fiercely defended his case of them being men's hosiery marketed by a ladies brand. I shan't get into the arguments here, but I still think he was wearing black hose. Anyhoo, Vulgar Wizard, hearing me laughing and carrying on like I had no sense at all, took it upon herself to dog me out to the morning Q Crew by telling Ron that he was taking fashion advice from a guy who had worn women's clothing, referencing my Rocky Horror Picture Show exploits.
See, what had happened was: When I was younger, I had the blessed luck to attend four midnight airings of RHPS over four consecutive weekends, and being the sort of rabble-rouser I am, and being let down by the sheer LACK of audience participation, I and some friends of mine went to the last showing of the month in full drag.
And it is at this point that I will ask anyone with a weak stomach, uneasy constitution or a hatred of men dressed as women to stop reading and/or leave the room, 'cos I'm gonna post pictures of me for Ron, Erin and CJ here to view, in all my...er...rather hirsute glory.
But first--a pictoral history of The Man Who Would Be Irrelephant.
Here's one from, oh gods, maybe 1988? Note the carefully unkempt curls, the white streak on one side of the part (see, when I tell you I've had it since I was 18 I'm NOT KIDDING) and the somewhat stoned look. This was, I hasten to assure you, only because this photo was taken before noon. (And yes, you can clicken these to embiggen them, if you're that much a sucker.)
Circa 1994, trying to disprove that there is any hint of good taste in my body.
Fast forward to 2005 and you find me dressed at work for Hallo'een as The Mad Hatter.
And then this, taken in the town of Yachats, Oregon, as photographed by Vulgar Wizard Herself.
That's about the most modern pic you're gonna see of me, unless you've been following the Moustache Monday pictures, and even the newest one of those is two months old now.
You see, I dislike most pictures of myself. I don't have but maybe a dozen or so all told as an adult, and I've never been very fond of them. But these--pride isn't the word. Dressing in so much thick makeup and strange clothing you find that you're wearing a mask more efficient than any other, and you can say and do all sorts of things that you ordinarily wouldn't do. The mask is a powerful tool, and can be a powerful weapon. Especially when matched with my first wife's bustier, a pink feather boa, a black satin cape, fishnet hose, a black curly wig, and women's panties. Powerful weapons indeed.
Unfortunately, I used those weapons for Evil.
I give you--Irrelephant, circa 1992, dressed as Dr. Frank N. Furter from The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
Wait for it!
"I see you shiver, with anti-"
*SAY IT! CONSTI-*
Hey--Don't dream it, be it!