Read excerpts from GG Allin’s soon to be released handwritten prison diaries

Read excerpts from GG Allin’s soon to be released handwritten prison diaries

Chunklet explores the Fucks to Shits Ratio

Chunklet explores the Fucks to Shits Ratio

Channeling GG Allin with America’s Next Drag Superstar
Two weeks after Sharon Needles took home the coveted title of America’s Next Drag Superstar on Rupaul’s Drag Race, she sits on the floor of her room at the Out Hotel—a “straight-friendly urban resort” in Manhattan’s Hell’s Kitchen—across from a psychic named Jesse Bravo, which is at least partially my doing. I had been enraptured by this glam-goth/witch-house/art-sleaze drag queen ever since seeing her on television, and had to meet her. But what would compel a performer known for vomiting blood and accessorizing with Ouija boards to hang with me? What could I propose that would be campy, creepy, and absurd enough to work? One word: séance. And here we are, a tattooed Sharon in a nude-colored lace dress, a rhinestone collar, and cotton candy-like platinum hair piled high sitting among flickering candles, tumbler of scotch in hand, while the psychic tells her he sees stars—entire constellations—all around her.
Sharon kneels down to whisper in my ear: “Ask the psychic if you are going to get raped.”
“No!” I say, “I don’t want to know!”
“What did she tell you to ask?” the psychic asks, smiling, “When you are going to die?”
I consider this. “Well… could you tell me that?”
“No!” Sharon yelps, “You psycho! Ask my question, not that one.”

A few hours earlier, I sat in the bathroom and got to talk to Sharon about her origins while she applied make-up—or rather, I talked to Aaron Coady, the man behind the woman. (I’ll refer to Aaron as “Sharon” when he’s in drag and as “Aaron” while he’s in mufti.) When he’s not in character, he has an open, easy demeanor, which is what you’d expect from someone who grew up in a small town and escaped to become, officially, a Drag Superstar. “I was too naive to be depressed,” he said of his childhood in Newton, Iowa. He was picked on, sure, but he learned to surrounded himself with things he loved: turning the back deck into a Broadway stage (“There was no after school dance or theater program in my town”), year-round Halloween dress-up, hanging out alone in cornfields, and, especially, plugging into television. “I was really into the bimbo archetype that filled late 80s-early 90s TV when I was growing up,” he said. “You know, women circling the want ads with nail polish, Rhonda Shear from USA Up All Night, Peggy Bundy.”
A YouTube video from Sharon’s early days depicts her as a blonde hooker in a red satin dress, walking the streets of Pittsburgh drinking a beer. “Maybe it sounds sexist, but I thought there was power in women acting stupid,” said Aaron, “That is why Sharon’s voice is so dumb. She’s beautiful, spooky, and stupid.”
Sharon asks the psychic if we can get the punk rock legend GG Allin on the line… or maybe televangelist Tammy Faye Bakker? (The latter is tattooed on Sharon’s upper arm.) The psychic closes his eyes. Tammy Faye is in some distant, massive city, but she knows Sharon and she has a message for her: She needs to watch her finances. She needs to watch who is around her. She needs to not let things pile up. “I love you, Tammy,” Sharon says. GG Allin also makes an appearance (surely the only time he’s shared a stage with Tammy Faye) and sends the image of a pressure cooker, telling Sharon she needs to “let the steam out.”
Continue

Channeling GG Allin with America’s Next Drag Superstar

Two weeks after Sharon Needles took home the coveted title of America’s Next Drag Superstar on Rupaul’s Drag Race, she sits on the floor of her room at the Out Hotel—a “straight-friendly urban resort” in Manhattan’s Hell’s Kitchen—across from a psychic named Jesse Bravo, which is at least partially my doing. I had been enraptured by this glam-goth/witch-house/art-sleaze drag queen ever since seeing her on television, and had to meet her. But what would compel a performer known for vomiting blood and accessorizing with Ouija boards to hang with me? What could I propose that would be campy, creepy, and absurd enough to work? One word: séance. And here we are, a tattooed Sharon in a nude-colored lace dress, a rhinestone collar, and cotton candy-like platinum hair piled high sitting among flickering candles, tumbler of scotch in hand, while the psychic tells her he sees stars—entire constellations—all around her.

Sharon kneels down to whisper in my ear: “Ask the psychic if you are going to get raped.”

“No!” I say, “I don’t want to know!”

“What did she tell you to ask?” the psychic asks, smiling, “When you are going to die?”

I consider this. “Well… could you tell me that?”

“No!” Sharon yelps, “You psycho! Ask my question, not that one.”

A few hours earlier, I sat in the bathroom and got to talk to Sharon about her origins while she applied make-up—or rather, I talked to Aaron Coady, the man behind the woman. (I’ll refer to Aaron as “Sharon” when he’s in drag and as “Aaron” while he’s in mufti.) When he’s not in character, he has an open, easy demeanor, which is what you’d expect from someone who grew up in a small town and escaped to become, officially, a Drag Superstar. “I was too naive to be depressed,” he said of his childhood in Newton, Iowa. He was picked on, sure, but he learned to surrounded himself with things he loved: turning the back deck into a Broadway stage (“There was no after school dance or theater program in my town”), year-round Halloween dress-up, hanging out alone in cornfields, and, especially, plugging into television. “I was really into the bimbo archetype that filled late 80s-early 90s TV when I was growing up,” he said. “You know, women circling the want ads with nail polish, Rhonda Shear from USA Up All Night, Peggy Bundy.”

A YouTube video from Sharon’s early days depicts her as a blonde hooker in a red satin dress, walking the streets of Pittsburgh drinking a beer. “Maybe it sounds sexist, but I thought there was power in women acting stupid,” said Aaron, “That is why Sharon’s voice is so dumb. She’s beautiful, spooky, and stupid.”

Sharon asks the psychic if we can get the punk rock legend GG Allin on the line… or maybe televangelist Tammy Faye Bakker? (The latter is tattooed on Sharon’s upper arm.) The psychic closes his eyes. Tammy Faye is in some distant, massive city, but she knows Sharon and she has a message for her: She needs to watch her finances. She needs to watch who is around her. She needs to not let things pile up. “I love you, Tammy,” Sharon says. GG Allin also makes an appearance (surely the only time he’s shared a stage with Tammy Faye) and sends the image of a pressure cooker, telling Sharon she needs to “let the steam out.”

Continue