Sometimes, it's not enough to command respect through your actions, deeds, talents, words, or even a staggering number of costume changes. Sometimes, you just have to throw it down, serve it up, and get all "princessy" up in their junk.
Exhibit A from today's Harrisburg Patriot-News--a front-page story from the Associated Press wire service, which originally appeared in the Boston Globe, apparently. (However, I'll cut to the middleman and link to the article on the Associated Press website.) In said exhibit, Central Pennsylvania's own Olympic men's figure-skater Johnny Weir lamented the "dusty" and "undecorated" conditions of his room at the Olympic Village in Torino, describing himself like so: "I am very princessy as far as travel is concerned and having a nice room and things like that."
Somebody please call Surya Bonaly, très rapidement. I think we've finally found a suitably strong competitor for her in the next episode of Celebrity Skate-Diva Death Match. It's difficult to know who might win this war--either the in-yo'-face, bugle-beadazzled, take-no-prisoners, somethin' fierce Queen of Ashanti--or, perhaps, Miss Bonaly. To avoid another Bikini Atoll incident, I'm hoping both manga-styled she-wolves would agree to use their powers for good rather than evil.
Unless said evil was directed toward Nancy Kerrigan. That I could forgive.
My favorite description (so far) of Our Miss Weir comes from the bloggish-type website, PEN15 (get it? PENIS?) Club:
He has the face of Paul Rubens, the hair of Nick Nolte, and the fashion sense of a gay dolphin caught in a fishing net while reenacting a scene from Showgirls. What's not to love about U.S. Olympic figure skater Johnny Weir?
(The full posting is available here: http://www.pen15club.net/archive/2006/02/johnny_weir_the.html)
So, in other words, he's Clay Aiken.
At the risk of offending my dear friend Jean Naté, the world's most fabulous Claymate, I'm not sure we need another Clay Aiken. However, at least this one appears to be an out-in-the-open Clay Aiken, not a mush-mouthed, gay?-yes-I-guess-I-am-a-gay-happy-person-full-of-good-Christian-joie-de-vivre Clay Aiken like the one we've already got. New and improved Clay, as it were. Now with more real glitter.
I suspect Mr. Weir will endure endless ribbing (but not for his pleasure) over the princessy faux-pas--from the press, from the Blogosphere (who me?), and from really stupide, macho stand-up comics who think that a gay male figure skater is somehow a novel chuckle, on the level of the first time they gave a wedgie to a classmate in the 5th grade. Puh-leez. Have you already forgotten Tonya Harding? Now there's a ice-skatin' he-man who could knock your block off and hand it back to you in a big brown Bloomingdale's bag.
How refreshing, though, to find a person--gay, straight, or in-between--who isn't so quick to censor his "uniqueness" in public, someone who is a competitive athlete--yes, athlete; you try doing a combination quintuple toe loop salchow half lutz dressed as Elizabeth Berkley sometime--yet who (so far) seems to get the joke. Exhibit B from the Associated Press: "'Sorry to say "princessy,"' [Weir] added, laughing, 'but that's what we do.'"
In other words, someone who isn't a humorless mo' fo' on skates--or skis, for that matter.
Oh yeah, I went there, Miss Bode Miller--right up to your Mama and slapped her in the face for birthin' such a tedious, cocksure media 'ho.' Lady Ski Bunny, you just got served.
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