It is about time for some love. I am going to play Houston tonight. An Improv that used to be a club called Spellbinders, where I did one of my first road gigs, where I met the brother of a man who would be introduced to me two weeks later, and became my first love. In the spirit of love Bruce “Daisy” Daniels and Margaret “Magnolia” Cho will be loving not hating, at least until the show starts.
We have been threatened by a local conservative group who said they will picket the show unless I am fired and taken off the bill and replaced by someone else. Sorry. I am now more excited than ever to meet y’all. Personally, if you are going to picket a show, fine, but the fact that you are picketing my show, means you are stepping up to me, which means some very bad things could possibly happen to you. Which is why Daisy and Magnolia will be showing up early tonight. We are going to create a human barricade between the alleged protesters and the audience coming to the show, who have purchased the tickets months in advance, who are closing up their shops early to have time to get ready beforehand, who have hired babysitters, who have had their nails done, who have gotten highlights in their bangs, who planned out a whole outfit to wear the night before, and then totally will end up changing their mind and wearing something completely different.
Protesters, please be warned. Fans of my work are not the nicest people in the world. If you are into me, you have been through it. And if you don’t know what that means, you just don’t know me yet. The great fanbase I have built up over many years in the “business” come to see me with a lot of anticipation, and have a lot invested in what I might have to say. And they can fucking fight. They will throw down in a fucking split second, and really I don’t want to see any of you protesters get hurt. Queens do not play. They will fucking kill you. Lesbians know how to throw a punch that will leave a very large bruise, and aren’t opposed to kicking protesting men right in the balls. The underrepresented, unvoiced, ignored part of our population, the great many that make up the Cho Army are something you are unaware of, and pretty much the gang not to fuck with. We are the baddest motherfuckers on the block. I don’t want to see you protesters get injured, emotionally or physically. I don’t want to see a drag queen make you cry. Which will happen, if you actually do show up with picket signs and all your protester accessories.
Personally, I don’t think that you will. If you do, I want to hear what you have said to me, but before you do, look me in the eyes and tell me your name, what you do for a living, who your children are, what your mother called you when you were little, if you are married, if you are truly happy in this life and what your family is like, then word for word, repeat the emails that you have written to this figurehead in cyberspace that you do not consider a human being. I also would wish for you to hold my hands when you do it. You can say all the things that you have already told me I am – shall I remind you? Chink, dyke, hole, whore, pig fucker, telling me to go back to where I came from even though I am an American and was born here, fat, ugly, et al.
Bruce is also available. You can call him a nigger and a faggot! Our only wish is that you do it on camera, looking deeply into our eyes, holding our hands, never leaving contact with our hearts. We will in return love you for your courage to stand up for free speech.
We come to love. We come in love. We love you.