How to get beauty pageants to fund your plastic surgery.

Maggie Rodriguez thoroughly reamed The Miss California pageant co-director, Keith Lewis, on air about why Carrie Prejean needed implants to compete for the Miss USA title. Wasn’t the pageant about scholastic aptitude and philanthropy? He stayed really cool through the whole interrogation and managed to say nothing really. I wish she had interviewed Shanna Moekler instead, because she’s so calm and articulate.

But I got something really important out of all of this; you can get pageants to fund your plastic surgery. I immediately got out my “pretty wishlist” and pulled up a list of Georgia pageants so that I could get a head start on trolling for plastic surgery funding ahead of all the other opportunistic bitches out there.

I started with the Hello Kitty pageant;
held around June in Cochran, GA. I love Hello Kitty and figured anyone associated with the pageant would probably be at least as immature as I am. I got the phone number of the pageant’s director and called her right away. Never mind that it’s seven in the morning, my needs are more important than whatever she was doing at the moment.

When she finally answered, I introduced myself and made sure that women my age could enter, it did say “all ages”. She seemed taken aback, but quickly recovered her aging pageant queen grace and qualified me. I asked her if they had a program for assisting needy contestants and she said that within reason they could probably help me with my physical concerns.

So I told her about my FUPA. For those of you that missed my post about menopause, a FUPA is an acronym meaning “Fat Upper Pussy Area”. You know, that awful pot sticking out from under your bellybutton. I was thinking of a mini tummy tuck with a little liposuction to get rid of it.

The phone line went dead, and I hit re-dial right away because she didn’t have my phone number to call me back. She picked up the phone and screamed some ugly words at me that I didn’t know former pageant queens knew and HUNG UP.

I’ll bet she never won “Miss Congeniality”.

So next I called the Miss Portal Turpentine pageant director. In staying with the “portal” theme, I explained I would feel better about myself if I had a little vaginoplasty to tighten up my portal, so to speak. No one wants a beauty queen gliding down the runway with a bad case of the queefs.

She also hung up on me. Maybe she’s just worried about the swine flu pandemic; it’s obvious her mind was elsewhere this morning. These people need to get their priorities straight.

So I tried a pageant a little closer to home, the Miss Enigma Firecracker pageant. Enigma is a really small town of about two hundred closely related people up in Irwin county. Though I’m not an albino, and don’t have hemophilia or crossed eyes, I was hoping I had a chance to get in anyway. This time I would ask for something small, as it’s a pretty poor community.

I mentioned that the skin tags popping up on my neck like mushrooms were bothering me, and could they help me get rid of them? The director of this pageant was actually pretty nice and took time out of her busy day running the take out window at the Dairy Queen to talk to me for a while. She gave me the number of the town’s veterinarian/taxidermist, as he did minor surgery in his spare time and she could get me at least twenty percent off.  That works for me. I’m headed out the door now. He mentioned I should bring my own soldering iron for sanitary purposes, whatever that means.

Please wish me luck as I get ready to compete for Miss Enigma Firecracker, I’m counting on your support. Without you and new pretty body parts, I am nothing.