Fag Hag Diary

Sticks and stones...


Fag Hag niece has been enlightening us all with her brilliantly no-nonsense brand of wisdom recently. She’d had a row with Fag Hag brother-in-law regarding an issue of utmost national security – exactly how a pink Polly Pockets plastic court shoe had ended up resting on top of some Sheba tuna supreme in a Phillipe Starcke cat bowl.

As Fag Hag brother-in-law tutted and sighed and remonstrated with 8-year-old Fag Hag niece she turned to face him, hands on Borrowers-sized hips Beyoncé style and blue eyes flashing. ‘Oh my god!’ she yelled at the top of her voice so everybody in N10, N1, SW3 and Beverly Hills 90210 could hear her screeching, ‘dad why do you have to be such a drag queen?’

As Fag Hag brother-in-law pondered this later, he asked me with some concern, ‘Do you think she meant drama queen?’ I raised an eyebrow Mae West style (which is no mean feat when you’ve has as much botox as the Faggy) and replied, ‘Honey, look at that pink top you’re wearing. Girlfren’ meant exactly what she said – drag queen!’

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: 0.0/10 (0 votes cast)

More dolly #content:

One comment to “Fag Hag Diary”

  1. j’adore. i’m off to call my boss a drag queen right now! call you back later with the outcome….

    VA:F [1.9.22_1171]
    Rating: 0.0/5 (0 votes cast)

Leave a comment