Photos by Mario Diaz

There are things in life that are kind of annoying (like the lesbian ahead of you in the express lane of the grocery store who thinks 50 cans of cat food count as one item), others that are somewhat nerve-wracking (getting a parking ticket because approximately one eighth of an inch of your car's bumper was in the red), and still others that are downright unacceptable!

AT A DRAG SHOW: It's unacceptable to extend a tip to a supremely talented drag queen when she's flawlessly singing a hilarious song at Micky's or Oasis or wherever only to rudely pull it away the moment she reaches for it. The last time some loser did this to me I ignored him for three songs as he stood there like an idiot trying to entice me with a five dollar bill. I finally snatched his stupid tip away from him and lit it on fire with a candle as the crowd cheered. My self-respect is worth more than five dollars, you bitter asshole. Look, I'm sorry you didn't get enough attention as a child, but don't take it out on me. Oh, and a warning: Without going into detail, let me just say that if you think you're real funny by throwing change at me during a number, I just hope to God you have dental insurance, honey, cuz your teeth and my size 12 foot are gonna get real close, real fast! Oh and while I'm on a tear... Actually making contact with a drag queen when kissing her hello should be punishable by death. I'm serious. Would you go to the Louvre and kiss the fucking Mona Lisa? Well, guess what? I'm a work of art -- and it took almost as long to paint my face as it did to paint hers! And one more thing, don't ask this drag queen DJ to "pleeeeeease play the new Madonna song!" Faggot, if I play any song by that skeletal uppity bitch it's gonna be something from when she was good like "Burning Up," okay?

AT A RESTAURANT: It's unacceptable to bend down like a quadrepeligic to sip through a straw without picking up your goddamn beverage. Hate to break it to ya, but you are not a toddler celebrating your birthday at Chuck E. Cheese, you are a middle-aged gay man on a pathetic blind date at Cha Cha Cha. And my ultimate pet peeve? Eating things with a spoon that should be eaten with a fork. When I see an adult eating mashed potatoes or mac & cheese or rice pilaf or whatever with a spoon I wanna walk over and slap them full-force across the face and scream at the top of my over-developed lungs, "You are not 5 years old!"

AT THE MOVIES: It's unacceptable for your favorite movie to be Deuce Bigalow, European Gigelow. I go to the ArcLight theater and part of the reason I do not mind paying more is because I can look at each employee's laminated name tag that also proudly states their favorite movie. I love to berate someone for choosing crap like Look Who's Talking Too. Even worse are obvious films like Citizen Kane, Casablanca, or Gone With The Wind. But the ultimate unacceptable film to choose as your favorite is Scarface. News flash: you ain't no gangsta -- you're selling Milk Duds and Raisinettes for minimum wage. Some more no-no's include going to the matinee of Transamerica at The Vista in Silver Lake all alone and once the lights go down, pulling a bag of microwave popcorn out of your oversized purse and cracking open a Shasta diet cola that you wrapped in aluminum foil to keep it cold. Just fucking wait until it comes out on DVD if you're this tragically broke. Also, thinking it's okay to keep yapping because it's just the previews and the movie hasn't even started. Shut your homemade-microwave-popcorn-hole, bitch! Did you ever think some of us would like to enjoy the trailers. After all, this is Hollywood, you snack-smugglin' slut! And the worst cinema sin? Answering your cell phone, even if it's just to loudly whisper, "Hey, can I call you back? I can't talk right now, I'm in a movie..." Turn your fucking phone off you shit-for-brains moron or I swear to God you'll be cleaning your own feces off of it Ôcause I'm gonna shove it up your ass, Shasta whore!

ON AN AIRPLANE: It's unacceptable to moan and groan and huff and puff when the person in front of you reclines their seat. The dude in front of me just reclined his and if I don't recline mine it means I'll have around a half a foot of space to spend the next five hours in. Also, when adults (for some reason usually diminutive bottle blondes in outdated sportswear) bring their own pillows with them on airplanes. Goo goo, fucking ga ga! Refer to IN A RESTAURANT, EATING WITH A SPOON above. And as if that wasn't bad enough then this pillow-toting cooze totally freaks out when someone has the audacity -- the unmitigated gall -- to actually put their carry-on luggage in the overhead bin where she oh-so-delicately placed her precious salmon and teal L.A. Gear sweatshirt. "Excuuuuuse me," she whines, "but could you pleeeeeease give me my sweatshirt so it doesn't get all smooshed!" Uh, sweatshirts were made to be all smooshed, stupid. Hey, wait a minute! Were you at the matinee of Transamerica at The Vista last week?