Dear Dr. Ding
Dear Dr. Ding:
Are you a drag queen?
Barbie in Belgravia
Dear Barbie:
Uh, no. Dr. Ding is a biological female who simply appreciates the campy and befeathered histrionic stylings of biological males who are partial to sequins, wigs, and, of course, glamma.
Glamma!
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
Phucking Unbelievable: Dr. Phil
Dr. Ding is aghast, having read recent and unavoidable accounts of Dr. Phil attempting to minister to one Britney Spears, uninvited and without apparent hospital privileges.
To put this in perspective: imagine if Dr. Ding were to suddenly show up, say, whenever a celebrity were admitted to detoxification/drug & alcohol treatment/psychiatric unit?
“Hello!” I’d say warmly to the good people at the front desk. “I just flew in from H-town, and although I don’t have admitting privileges and am in no way acquainted with any patients here, I’d like to visit Liza With A Z/Lindsey Lohan/that guy who played Chandler on ‘Friends’ please. HIPAA? What’s that? You see, I’m a psychologist, here are copies of my licenses. Am I licensed in this state? Uh, well, no…not exactly. But if you add all the letters together from the states in which I am actually a licensed provider of mental health services, and multiply by the length of a Kabbalah bracelet, and divide by the number of weeks my last book was on the best-seller list, you get a valid California license number, see?” I’d then breeze on up to the fifth floor and stride confidently into Liza/Lindsey/Chandler Bing’s room, and block the doorway, arms akimbo.
“And just where do you think you’re going, Little Ms/Mr. Drunky-pants? I’ve got something to say to you. Get real. Failure is no gravy train. Every day you need to look in the mirror and say ‘I need to be on the Dr. Ding show. And I’m making a good decision here because the outer reflection of my inner gravy train is what makes people treat me like I am wanting to be treated, only with less gravy.’ Let’s get real right now!”
I would then lead my bewildered and alarmed new friend over to the mirror where I would harangue them by droning “I’m doing this because I care, and I care about you, and I’d like it if you cared about you. Only with more gravy,” until they started to relax and stopped trying to press the emergency call button.
Then, despite Liza/Lindsey/Chandler Guy suddenly shoving me aside and sprinting down 5 flights of stairs and out to their car, I’d jog along behind, offering them one last chance to talk on national television about the gravy trainwreck that was just now cured qua my timely psychomological intervention. As they sped off, I’d be calling my media contacts and announcing that I spent over an hour in deep discussion with L/L/C, but that despite my superior clinical abilities and excellent footspeed I was unable to convince them to appear on my show. Which of course proves how very psychologically unbalanced they are.
Reality check: Dr. Ding wouldn’t be able to get past the front desk, even if I was wearing my customary and proper clinical attire of sequined evening gown, sunglasses, and curlers.
I cannot imagine what Dr. Phil was thinking. He must not have read his APA Ethical Principles of Psychologists and Code of Conduct.
Principle A: First do no harm.
Dr. Ding’s Corollary: Showing up unannounced and uninvited is just so wrong, and a clear violation of Ms Spear’s rights as a patient. Shame on that hospital for letting him in. Unless it’s a pretty goddamn clear-cut emergency, psychologists don’t treat or assess anyone unless a) there is informed consent, and b) the individual in question your own fucking patient in the first place! I mean, duh.
Principle #5.06: APA is crystal-clear on this next part, regarding In-Person Solicitation. “Psychologists do not engage, directly or through agents, in uninvited in-person solicitation of business from actual or potential therapy clients/patients or other persons who because of their particular circumstances are vulnerable to undue influence. However, this prohibition does not preclude (1) attempting to implement appropriate collateral contacts for the purpose of benefiting an already engaged therapy client/patient or (2) providing disaster or community outreach services.”
Dr. Ding’s Corollary: Dr. Phil is a publicity-hungry douchebag who would whore out his own grandmother’s psychological vulnerabilities in a heartbeat, so long as the price was right.
Yeah, that’s right. I said douchebag. I mean, let’s get real here.
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
The Girl Can’t Help It
Dr. Ding lurrrves drag queens. Today at work I espied a fabulous fax advertising Frank Marino’s show in Las Vegas. Which is FANTASGREAT. I saw it about 10 years ago, so I imagine it’s even more super-fabulous now. Here’s a pic of Frank and Dolly. Check it!
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
Oh Mighty Isis!
Many of you are aware of Dr. Ding’s fascination with the padonkadonk-kickin’ Mighty Isis.
My Beyonce-In-Law, Tater, got me the DVD for GirlJesus’ Birthday! Thank you again, Tater!
Now, if I could only get my piggy mitts on Killer Drag Queens On Dope, my life would be complete.
Yes yes, not truly complete in an existential sense, but my life would definitely be more entertaining and fabulous if I had this movie in the clutches of my hot lil’ hands.
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
5 Travel Tips: My Ovaries Flew Coach: A Personal Odyssey*
Some folks can’t travel worth a hoot. Dr. Ding has observed them, standing smack-dab in the center of a busy airport thoroughfare, staring glassy-eyed and tight-pantsed at the monitors, looking miserable and laden down with excess luggage.
So to avoid this kind of travel buzzkill, read onward.
1. Travel light. The rule is: twice as much money and half the clothes. Trust. But be sure to pack 1 or 2 pair of dark, wicking/washable undies. I like Ex Officio. And make sure you wear comfortable slacks or sweats on days when you’re sitting lots. This prevents the dreaded crotchal region circulatory cutoff from ruining your courageous journey.
2. Forget all that crap about drinking lots of water ahead of time and packing your own snacks. Half the fun of travelling is buying Hoochie Hairstyle magazines and eating overpriced ham sandwiches, thereby saving you valuable pre-trip time to get a massage or find a cure for simple chronic halitosis.
3. Talk to the locals. Dr. Ding never would have learned to say “Ma’am you’ve irreparably hurt my feelings, now get out of my cab” in the Mayan language if she hadn’t attempted to communicate in her broken, profanity-laced Spanish while cabbing it along the Mexican Riviera. Or found out about the least-touristy beaches selling the best Cuban cigars and the cheapest cocktails.
4. Plug yourself into an iPod or MP3 player. Get the noise-blocking headphones. Calms anxiety, dampens engine noise, drowns out the person next to you droning on about needlepointing pies onto kittens or whatever at the PTA meeting funcheon.
5. Accept in your heart that magnets make the best souvenir gifts. They’re light and can be stowed easily in the odd suitcase pocket. Just don’t store them next to any electronic stuff, or you’ll give yourself the jimmy leg. Dr. Ding is partial to the kind of glittery, bejeweled magnets suitable for any drag queen dressing-room refrigerator.
Happy travels, Ding-a-Lings!
[Ed. note: That's Irish D.Q. Danny LaRue up above. I know it looks like me, but it's not.]
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
GIVE
Hey Dingstereenos!
It feels good to give. Not until you’re broke, burned-out, wildly annoyed, agitated, or a lil bit psychotic…but giving just feels like a good thing to do. Acts of altruism can help enhance feelings of personal accomplishment and self-efficacy, which is a fancy way of saying that when you give, you really feel like you’ve done something more meaningful than, say, tipping your leg waxer.
Two of my favorite charitable organizations are the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, and the Texas Marine Mammal Stranding Network. Oh, and then there are the inimitable Save 2nd Base and Save Second Base charities, who have truly witty t-shirts.
I walked, gasped, limped, and bitched my way through the Chicago Walk last year and I’m doing it again this year in Houston in April. There will probably be a higher bitching-to-walking ratio as the humidity is likely to be significantly irritating to my delicate constitution. But walk I shall. This year Dr. Ding is going to raise $3,600 to help fund medically underserved men and women with the disease by attempting to trudge 39 miserable goddamned concrete miles over the course of 2 days*. There will also be urban camping, of which I am not fond, but last year I was so exhaustedly close to total moral collapse that I just didn’t fucking care where I slept.
Won’t you please allow me to blackmail you into donating? Send me an email and I’ll send you the link to my Avon Walk homepage. Once there, feel free to empty your pockets. Aah. Now don’t you feel peachy?
The TMMSN is a pretty cool organization. And better still, it involves very little straining, grunting and cursing on my part. I give money each year and buy a shitload of t-shirts and festive plastic bracelets so that various unfortunate dolphins that wash up on the Gulf shores can be rehabbed, poked, prodded and pretty much pissed-off back into health. I fucking LOVE dolphins. They’re smart, they’re adorable, and their sonar-like communications may actually (more…)
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
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- https://askdrding.com/
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