She's my Cherry pie, hot slice a tranny with a sweet surprise.

"Ask Kristin" on E!

So I guess it's done. No more Nip/Tuck for moi.
One awesome thing that came out of it is an inspiration for a new project. Stacey K. Black, the lead hair artist (yes i said artist...anyone who can make my hair smooth deserves a purple heart), is also a talented singer-songwriter. She'd change words to songs and come up with brilliant little drag queen parodies and Cherry jokes. During every break from getting buried alive and shooting Nazi's for the season finale, I was huddled around a heater with Ryan Murphy and Stacey. Ryan started singing "tranny's got a gun."

That one line has morphed itself into a pilot for a show called Tranny McGuyver which is almost done. It's not sad that I'm not doing anymore episodes although it would be fun. I'm not owed anything by them so I refuse to act entitled and pissy about not being around anymore. I sorta relish the fact that the FX bosses hated me. Now when people ask me about it, I can just say something very Faye Dunaway offhandedly.

"Eh...What can I say? The network brass hated me. It's a damn boys club."

All Hallow's Skeeve

I skeeve halloween. I don't dress up for free or fun ever. But I got paid to write a damn nifty article for Out Magazine. You can read it here.
Do you like the picture? I do. It's 3 pairs of contacts layered. I layered the light lavender ones I nabbed when I did Liz Taylor for Cold Case, a cobalt blue pair, and then my regular perscription daily lense. The optometrist said it was OK but he was really, super Korean and I didn't catch every single word.
Anyway...go to www.Out.com and scroll down 'til you see my picture.



Here's one that got left out.
11. ROSS (Cross Dress for Less) has many options but most will leave you looking like a mother of the bride with a fupa (fat upper pussy area). You should try the little girl section. I scored a hot little Hilary Duff dress meant for an 8 year old girl that I wear as a miniskirt. It makes me look just like an Olsen twin (the hot one, not the fat one).

p.s. feel free to comment there after you read it. Maybe they'll hire me for more stuff.

Schlameel, Schlamazel.

About 4 years ago, my old roommate Paul & I decided we should do something with our lives. He went and got his masters in sociology. I became a drag queen. It's not a competition so don't think less of him please.

We get together for long talks occasionally still. I expect him to outsmart me with every occurrence of his mouth opening (that is if a word can escape before a random penis is inserted....he's popular like that ;)
But I realize we have so much in common because of how truly unapologetic we are about being ourselves. He's emotional and wears his heart on his rolled-up-so-he-can-show-his-killer-bicep sleeves. I'm vapid like the pretty sister in Little Women.

Last time we were together, time was passed with cocktails & trying on everything in my drag closet to determine Halloween costumes. Feeling schlub-like, we felt motivate to do something productive (like go to an actual bar and drink).

We decided against the bar in WeHo called Here because as Paul says, "That urinal is waaay to cruisey." If there was a Zagat rating with little tiny gloryholes for restrooms in West Hollywood, Paul could rate each one as a civic duty. (Here Bar would get 4 holes outta 4).
We decided against The Spotlight because last time I was there, I ended up hiring a hustler to make out with a drag queen friend of mine. I didn't even have to tell him he was a man. That desperate air stinks more than rotten trash. I also got on the pool table in heels, fucked up the felt on it and they told me never to come back. So by default, we passed on that too.

Plus we were too drunk to drive anywhere. So we marched right up to Jamba Juice and got smoothies. They asked if we wanted a free boost in our concoction. I told them we had tequila at home thanks. Fuckin' health freaks.

Paul and I should wear those best friend charms. I'd be "Be Fri" and he'd be "St Ends." But instead of trinkets, we show our love through actions. He gives me empty bullets on chains that he knew I'd like after a trick left it at his house. I spy to see if his boyfriend is hooking up with internet sex partners. Laverne & Shirley ain't got shit on our relationship.

1st annual Why Are They More Famous Than Me entry

This woman, Paula Deen, has her own Food Tv show which I watch when I want to feel good about myself. I last witnessed her bent over a grill turning her hind up like a gorilla to Goodal after some hick man was showing her how to glaze some ribs and meats on his hot rack.
She practically cried when he shut it without offering her a "nibblin" (her word-not mine). He took out a sausage and cut her a slice to sample. But aww no. Paula grabs the the whole weiner instead of the bite-size snack. So not the lady-like Blanche Dubois thing to do.

If there was a crude cartoon on a bathroom wall about her the caption would read : Bitch would bone for BBQ.

Family Circle (& why mine ain't completely round)

I’m part of a giant Catholic brood with about 20 cousins. There’s a mixture of drunks, druggies, doctors and degenerates (degenerates=gays but I wanted to keep with the alliterative D-path). We all love each other very much at least 11 out of the 12 months of the year. This may shock you, but I’m considered the smart one. It’s not by default either just cause my sis was labeled the slut(unfairly...she was more of a goodtime gal. life of the party type). I used to be considered the fat one but now the cousin who just kicked her heroin habit has taken that title. Hopefully, the weight will come off now that she miscarried the baby that had been in-utero while she was honing her smack habit. Isn’t it funny how methamphetamines will make you wanna model but methadone will make you balloon. Not “funny haha” more funny well. Yea. Nevermind about the funny adjective.
Anyway, my sister cleaned up and got her shit together. She’s managed to have a wonderful son that I’m going to be visiting soon.
Nicole, the cousin I’m closest to, and I were talking about our nephew. It went like this:

WILLAM: Hey you called me. What do you want.
NICOLE: Nothing. What are you doing?
WILLAM: Nothing. Buying tickets to St. Louis for Thanksgiving.
NICOLE: We need to buy Levi something for his birthday. It's on Thanksgiving right?
WILLAM: Oh yea! But Thanksgiving changes every year. What day is it? How old is he?
NICOLE: I don’t know...day or age.
WILLAM: He’s either 2 or 1.
NICOLE: Did I bring a date to the christening?
WILLAM: I don’t think so. Did I?
NICOLE: I dunno.
WILLAM: Your hair was so cute that day! It was all hot rollered up and teased at the crown.
NICOLE: We’re the worst God Parents in the world.
WILLAM: Most likely.

We decided that it’s not that important to spend time with him until he’s 3 (which may be in two years or one). I mean until then all he really does is cry, shit and sleep right? My mother has brainwashed him into learning the word Eagles to coincide with football season before he can say Grandmom. God bless our family. Our priorities may not be in order but our hearts usually are.

p.s. Nicole gave our other cousin Keirsten highlights for her birthday one year. She was the only girl in her kindergarten class to have roots by December.

Methy Mouse. Sorry. Micky Mouse.

This past weekend I worked Gay Days @ Disneyland. I know. You're sorta confused right now because "Disney + Willam" doesn't seem to jive. DING DING DING! You're right!
Every year, 30,000 gay people come to Anahiem for the weekend long event and I work the parties and help things run smoothly. I also have a handy way of putting in the "cuss" in customer service. "You want another free t-shirt? Well I want to be cast for my rock hard abs and no talent face (Chad Allen was right there so it was fresh on the mind)."
There were some highlights though. Wilson Cruz (Ricky from My So Called Life) & Alec Mapa (Asian funny man bordering on Lady-Boy) were nice to me and gave a great introduction to Jennifer Hudson, the live entertainment for the night at one of the parties. She's playing Effie in the new Dreamgirls movie and damn she rocks it.
But at the same party, I observed some very un-Disney behavior. Narcotics! Specifically, more crack than the Liberty Bell. Now I know why it's the happiest place on earth. Everyone's dropping motherfuckin' Ectasy. Personally, I don't think you should do drugs @ Disney. Yea, handjobs on Small World and Jungle Cruise-sure. But crank in the Kingdom is a no!)