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DOS & DON'TS

If you just reversed their order and added a large pile of dog shit to the left this would be like one of those evolutionary diagrams. Comments/Enlarge | See all


Being into Crass when you’re in your 60s is lame and they would never endorse leather but there’s something about this guy’s Winnie the Pooh face that makes him seem way more authentic than all the squatters in Essex.
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DOS & DON'TS

He’s moving the hat from right to left because tonight’s the night he graduates from prick to full-on shithead. Comments/Enlarge | See all


TRANNIE SOCCER MOM

From Fake Tits to Kibbles and Bits


Photo by: Their neighbor | Sent from: Pittsburgh, PA



Liz Champion hawks videotapes on eBay, waxes her bikini line in the living room, and keeps house for her boyfriend, Don. On weekends they go out on his Honda Scout, attend Don’s son’s school events, fish, and go caving. It’s the simple things that are making Liz happy these days.

But her life wasn’t always a suburban idyll. When Liz was only seven years old, her mom jumped off a bridge, leaving her dad to raise three kids, two of whom were raging flamers. Dad wasn’t crazy about the eyeliner and Boy George clothes, and things got so bad Liz sued her father for custody of her brother when she was only seventeen. “Together, my brother and I have been able to cultivate our own existence,” Liz says. “We’ve been blessed with each other.”

She became his guardian, and the two left Belle Vernon, PA, on the next bus to New York (where they hoped to score a record deal). New York changed Liz. A few months after living there she got huge breast implants and became a fixture at Club Edelweiss, a Times Square disco notorious for mountains of blow and prostitution. Liz won’t give up details, but it’s clear that she saw and did things there that would make Catalina (see previous page) say, “Eww, gross.” “It was definitely my low point,” Liz adds. “I knew I was more than just tits and ass, but the $400-a-night I got as ‘door girl’ kept me there.”

The East Village wasn’t the only problem. Liz’s body didn’t feel comfortable, either. Though she always kept the dick, she went from big fake estrogen tits to small testosterone ones and then back to big ones until she became an androgynous, testostegenated mess. So she moved back to Pittsburgh. “Sometimes you gotta know who you’re not to find yourself,” she says.

Back home, she soon met Don, an ex-con with his ex-wife’s name tattooed on his leg. Liz fessed up immediately to her “big clit” but he didn’t give a shit, and it’s been The Don and Liz Show ever since. Now Liz’s playing housewife. She’s taking the dog for walks, driving her kid to soccer, and is happier with her life than you are.

HEATHER SPARKS

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