My Amazon order of The Memoirs of a Beautiful Boy by Robert Leleux arrived. I know it doesn’t sound like my usual royal reading, but the author is kind of a queen. Robert and his eccentric, wig-wearing, man-chasing mother live in dull Petunia, Texas (“Where God Stuck the Enema,” as Mother calls it), but drive to Neiman Marcus every Saturday to get their hair and nails done.
When Robert finally realizes that he’s gay, Mother isn’t impressed by his announcement. “How could you be my child and not be gay?” she says. “Women like me always have gay children. Cher, Lana Turner, Queen Elizabeth. My God, look at Queen Elizabeth.”
The book is worth reading for the infected lip implant story alone. “It’s enough to make a girl start believing in inner beauty,” Mother sighs after the implant pops out of her lip and terrorizes a small child in a department store ladies’ room.
Here’s the other funny thing that came in the mail.
The employees of Discount Surgical Stockings are waiting to hear from me! Oh noes! I hope they’re not holding their breath. But, let’s not rush to judgment here. What if discount surgical stockings prevent the dreaded knee wrinkling, which I used to worry about until I delegated that worry to La Belette Rouge? Maybe I will become a valued customer after all. I’m not ready to start believing in inner beauty.
Meanwhile, this postal mystery remains unsolved.