Clint Eastwood Fights with Chair, Phyllis Diller Drops Retroactively Dead

Posted by Adrian Ryan on Aug 31, 2012 in Politics | 2 comments

 

Clint Eastwood stormed the stage of at the Great Big Bigot Fish Fry and Bullshit Hootenanny in Tampa last night and yelled at an empty chair to get the hell off his lawn. The chair could not be reached for comment. But it seemed just as confused as anybody else.

Picture it: Rosie O’Donnell has this “heart attack” last week, right? There she is, spastic,  fry-clogged little heart clutched in one hand, a bottle of life-saving Bayer ™ in the other, suddenly WHAM! She’s totally gay married somehow. Somebody! Explain this to me! (And get me some damn fries!)

So we were discussing Dan Savage’s ridiculous biceps. I know! Right? Well, here’s my theory: his huge, Terminator-like biceps happened just around about the same time that advanced CGI technology became widely available, so. Also, nobody who actually knows Dan has actually seen him in person for years. Jump to your own conclusions.

In other news: Poor old Phyllis Diller. She dead.

Phyllis Diller was the first drag queen I ever loved. I met her on the teevee. I was in a highchair, she lived behind the glass, and she often popped up in between the different parts of The Price is Right to encourage me to eat delicious Nally’s potato chips–which I was totally on top of without the reminders, thank you anyway drag queen lady. CRUNCH!

As I grew, she taught me many things that have held to be so true: that one can be a big crazy tropical bird occasionally, and that’s totally okay. That if one’s hair is not four or more times the size of normal, law-abiding hair, what’s the point? That if one’s expression isn’t going 5,000 miles per-hour, it’s not going anywhere.

She taught the world that game shows were really just shows with games in them, and that they were best played with really drunk celebrities. Plus, she successfully roasted Ronald Reagan, which was something the entire Soviet stockpile of nuclear weapons failed to do. But most importantly, she taught me that it was possible to be relentlessly hilarious and naughty and good hearted, never stopping, and that was a pretty fantastic way to exist.

Phyllis Diller died today of being 95 fucking years old. (And somehow, Clint Eastwood just goes on and on and on…) She was indeed the jester queen of a Love Boatier time, and the world owes her so much. Especially Joan Rivers, obviously. She will be missed.

Farewell sweet potato chip drag queen! You were wonderful in ways this world will never be seen again.

CRUNCH!