Friday, November 18, 2005
Baby Dyke
Just started the blog and Dot Lazarius is already falling down on the job! As promised, the Baby Dyke years:
I was born in a small town in Southern Illinois to a sweet, unsuspecting couple, who had no idea what they were getting themselves in for. My parents, their parents, their parents’ parents and their parents’ parents’ parents had all been born and raised in that small town. My mother insists that until Dot Lazarius came along, no homosexual had ever resided in that small town. And judging by the lack of action Dot Lazarius got in high school, I’m inclined to believe her, people! In fact, in order to protect the militantly heterosexual, let’s just call Dot Lazarius’s hometown the Non-Isle of No-Lesbos.
But into each breeder’s life, some butch dyke must fall, and Dot Lazarius entered the world, butch as the day she was born, on April 18, 1967. My parents were both in their early 40s when they had me so I was to be the one and only. Being farmers, they wanted a boy who could help out on the farm as a child and one day inherit that farm. Now I’ve told them that a butch dyke is the second best thing to a boy, but for some reason they haven’t accepted that logic yet.
Anyway, when I came out, the old male doctor grabbed me and dried me off. To my parents joy he announced, “Mr. and Mrs. Lazarius, you have a perfect baby boy!” While my parents were hugging and crying, a nursing student who had been to the city a couple times took a look at me and nudged the doctor.
“That’s not a boy.” She whispered.
“What are you talking about?” The doctor asked, gesturing towards Dot Lazarius’s large endowment.
“That’s a strap on.”
Of course I’m kidding, people. Just a little bit of my routine there.
But serious, I was extremely butch.
Just started the blog and Dot Lazarius is already falling down on the job! As promised, the Baby Dyke years:
I was born in a small town in Southern Illinois to a sweet, unsuspecting couple, who had no idea what they were getting themselves in for. My parents, their parents, their parents’ parents and their parents’ parents’ parents had all been born and raised in that small town. My mother insists that until Dot Lazarius came along, no homosexual had ever resided in that small town. And judging by the lack of action Dot Lazarius got in high school, I’m inclined to believe her, people! In fact, in order to protect the militantly heterosexual, let’s just call Dot Lazarius’s hometown the Non-Isle of No-Lesbos.
But into each breeder’s life, some butch dyke must fall, and Dot Lazarius entered the world, butch as the day she was born, on April 18, 1967. My parents were both in their early 40s when they had me so I was to be the one and only. Being farmers, they wanted a boy who could help out on the farm as a child and one day inherit that farm. Now I’ve told them that a butch dyke is the second best thing to a boy, but for some reason they haven’t accepted that logic yet.
Anyway, when I came out, the old male doctor grabbed me and dried me off. To my parents joy he announced, “Mr. and Mrs. Lazarius, you have a perfect baby boy!” While my parents were hugging and crying, a nursing student who had been to the city a couple times took a look at me and nudged the doctor.
“That’s not a boy.” She whispered.
“What are you talking about?” The doctor asked, gesturing towards Dot Lazarius’s large endowment.
“That’s a strap on.”
Of course I’m kidding, people. Just a little bit of my routine there.
But serious, I was extremely butch.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Dot Lazarius here. Getting in on the blog game a little late, like most things in life! Am I right, people? Since this is my first post, let me tell you a little about what makes Dot Lazarius tick and why she decided to start a blog.
I'm a queer activist, comedian and a butch dyke who likes butch dykes. Let me tell you, people, it's not easy being a butch dyke, and it's even harder to be a butch dyke who likes butch dykes! I've spent much of my life dealing with my sexuality in nonconstructive ways like drinking beer to excess, sitting on my ass watching sports all the time, and getting it on with any butch dyke who was willing to take Dot Lazarius home. In the past year, though, Dot Lazarius has turned herself into a clean, mean, muff-diving machine. I've drawn on my difficult times as well as my treasured sexuality and turned it into comedy gold. Maybe you'll see Dot Lazarius's name in lights on a marquis near you soon (particularly if you live in the Omaha's southern suburbs!)
My difficult times, or "Dot's dark ages" as I sometimes refer to them in my act or activism, are what led me to start a blog. In my home town of St. Louis, I see a wonderful thearapist who has helped me with so many of issues--she also happens to be a femme, but that's another story! Am I right people? But since Dot Lazarius has been on the road so much doing stand up, she can't go to the thearapist quite as often. So my thearapist suggested I start a blog and try to record my life, thoughts and feelings. Who knows, it could also provide some great material for a one-woman show! Dot Lazarius will chronical her life in this blog, from the baby dyke years to coming out to my parents (don't do it in a moving car, people!) with an occasional interjection from the present. Enjoy the ride!
Am I right, people?
I'm a queer activist, comedian and a butch dyke who likes butch dykes. Let me tell you, people, it's not easy being a butch dyke, and it's even harder to be a butch dyke who likes butch dykes! I've spent much of my life dealing with my sexuality in nonconstructive ways like drinking beer to excess, sitting on my ass watching sports all the time, and getting it on with any butch dyke who was willing to take Dot Lazarius home. In the past year, though, Dot Lazarius has turned herself into a clean, mean, muff-diving machine. I've drawn on my difficult times as well as my treasured sexuality and turned it into comedy gold. Maybe you'll see Dot Lazarius's name in lights on a marquis near you soon (particularly if you live in the Omaha's southern suburbs!)
My difficult times, or "Dot's dark ages" as I sometimes refer to them in my act or activism, are what led me to start a blog. In my home town of St. Louis, I see a wonderful thearapist who has helped me with so many of issues--she also happens to be a femme, but that's another story! Am I right people? But since Dot Lazarius has been on the road so much doing stand up, she can't go to the thearapist quite as often. So my thearapist suggested I start a blog and try to record my life, thoughts and feelings. Who knows, it could also provide some great material for a one-woman show! Dot Lazarius will chronical her life in this blog, from the baby dyke years to coming out to my parents (don't do it in a moving car, people!) with an occasional interjection from the present. Enjoy the ride!
Am I right, people?
