Blame It on Bianca Del Rio_The Expert on Nothing With an Opinion on Everything

by Bianca Del Rio

A lot of gay men have parents who aren’t very understanding or tolerant. I have the opposite problem. My parents are TOO gay friendly. In fact, they’re so gay friendly they’re driving potential boyfriends away. HELP!

  Smothered in San Diego

  Dear Smothered,

  How awful. Overly loving parents; you have to pretend to be nice to THREE people, instead of just one, uggh! (When I’m on a date with a guy, I always act nice—almost like I’m someone else, so he’ll get to know the real me.) It would be much simpler if you had hateful, homophobic, Christian parents so you wouldn’t have to deal with them at all. But you don’t. You’re stuck with Nick and Nora Nice, who want you to be happy. What’s that all about?

  Anyway, I’m assuming you’ve talked to them about the suffocating lovefest and it hasn’t done any good. My advice? Have a fun movie night at home! You and your current BF, Little Timmy (why not?), should make a nice dinner, and then you and LT and your parents snuggle up on the couch and watch movies. Gay porn movies. Hard-core gay porn movies. Starring you and Not So Little Timmy. I’m pretty sure Mom and Pop will leave you alone after that. Because while they want to see you happy, they don’t want to see you getting fisted. But I do. My PO box is . . .

  Hope that helps!

  Xoxo

  Moi

  P.S. You know what I hate? When faux-Christians say, “Hate the sin, love the sinner.” That is such bullshit. That’s like saying, “I hate shrill, awkward, lip-syncing Canadians, but I love Celine Dion.” No, you don’t. You can’t stand her. You can’t hate felching and then be all kissy-face with the felcher. Just sayin’. Glad I got that off my chin chest.

  * * *

  Dear Bianca,

  I’m Claudia and write from Rome, Italy. My question is: how to explain to my 2 and ½ years old daughter what’s the meaning of gay? I wasn’t embarrassed nor scared, but trying to be clear I had to use words like “normal” and “usual” for the heterosexual love. The fact is that the baby understood quite well the meaning (I ended with an “isn’t important if you love a male or a female, love is always a beautiful thing” and she said “oooook”) but I’m asking to myself if I somehow transmitted—with the words, not with the intentions—that the gay love is not normal, is not usual. Maybe it’s only my paranoid . . . but I really want to teach her how love and respect is fundamental, no matters about gender or color or thoughts.

  Hoping not beeing so heavy for you to read . . . and sorry for my bad english!

  I would reeeeeeeally like to see you in Rome, meanwhile I’m trying to emprove my english watching RuPaul’s drag race seasons on and on.

  With love and respect,

  Claudia

  Dear Claudia,

  Ciao! (Which I’ve learned means both “hello” and “good-bye” in Italian, the way “Shalom” means “hello” and “good-bye” in Hebrew, and “Get the fuck out!” means “hello” and “good-bye” in Boston. What can I say, I’m trilingual! Yet another reason to love me. I’m like the fag whisperer.)

  In this book, I’ve edited many of the letters for a variety of reasons—time, space, fluidity, etc. (as well as for grammar and spelling, so that my many fans don’t look like ignorant dopes), but I left your letter exactly as it was written. Not because it’s charming or special, but because my readers will appreciate my patience in wading through pages of typos, poor usage, and dangling participles.

  Claudia, why are you explaining gay love to a two-and-a-half-year-old? Aren’t potty training and teaching her not to put foreign objects (bottle caps, sticks, Aunt Luisa’s vibrator) in her mouth higher priorities at this age? I realize that Europeans are way more advanced than Americans (on Sesame Street, Oscar the Grouch isn’t explaining to the kids why he’s never been married, or why he shares his garbage can with a slender, blond boy named Trevor) but this is a little much. When your daughter starts asking about sex or love, or will only eat fish for dinner, that is the time to have this conversation. Until then, don’t worry about what message you sent—she was too busy wondering about her coloring books to pay attention to you. Leave her alone—shave your legs, wax your lips, and learn to make ice.

  * * *

  Dear Bianca:

  My sister’s husband is cheating on her . . . with a male UPS driver. I’m gay and was in the closet for years, so I understand my brother-in-law’s situation and empathize with him. But I love my sister and think she should know what’s going on—before they have children. Any advice on what to do?

  Dan

  Seattle, Washington

  Dear Dan,

  This situation is stickier than Lady Bunny’s panties on a summer day in Miami. Take a moment to envision that and try not to vomit.

  A couple of things to consider before you say anything: 1. Your sister may already know her husband’s a sister; 2. Your sister might be half a dyke herself (is her favorite color plaid?); 3. They may have an open relationship and they’re each allowed to do their own thing, or do their own delivery person. None of this, of course, is any of your damn business. Although if the answer is number 3, I’d ask hubby if you can borrow the UPS guy. Why not find out what brown can do for you? Hopefully he won’t mishandle your package.

  Healing, no?

  * * *

  Dear Bianca,

  I hate my wife’s nine-year-old son. He’s rude, obnoxious and mean. We have joint custody and the boy spends 50% of the time with his father. What can I do so that he stays with his father 80% of the time?

  Bob

  Raleigh, North Carolina

  Dear Bob,

  Molest him. You’ll get to 100 percent in no time.

  * * *

  Dear Bianca:

  I’ve been bitterly estranged from my family for a number of years, including my mother and my three siblings (and their families). My mum recently died and I don’t want to go to the funeral. I also don’t want to feel guilty about not going. I had a terrible relationship with my mum (I was a battered child) and want nothing to do with my brothers and sister. Any advice?

  David

  Ealing, London, UK

  Dear Dave,

  I’m sorry about your mother’s death . . . unless, of course, she was a total cunt, in which case I’m happy for you. By the way, on a scale of one-to-Katherine Heigl, exactly how cunty was she?

  Funerals are for the survivors; the dead person is dead. (Unless the dead person is Shirley MacLaine, who keeps coming back, like jock itch, acid reflux, or those horrible Fast & Furious movies.) So, if you’re considering going to the service for your mother’s sake, remember, she’s DEAD; someone dropped a house on her. If you don’t want to see your siblings, then why go? How good could the catering be?

  It seems to me there are only two reasons to even consider going:

  You’re in the will and will collect a lot of money (if the old bag had any, and I say that in a kind, loving way).

  You want to upset your siblings by creating a scene (i.e., showing up at the church naked, vomiting into the open casket, giving the priest a hummer in the confessional, etc.).

  If either of those is true, then pull that black suit out of the closet, and go enjoy the festivities! Don’t be a stick-in-the-mud, like she’s soon to be. (And remember, she’s your only mother, you don’t get the chance to bury the bitch twice.)

  * * *

  Hey Bianca =),

  I need your sass and advice on something please.

  I’m not gonna take the scenic route, well I’ll try not to, long story short I’m helping my sister with her passion. She started a business, so as family we are all helping as much as possible.

  I feel like our relationship is suffering due to a lot of business-related issues, so I think it’s healthiest if I move on and follow my own passion. I watched you follow yours and it inspired me more than the other queens. You weren’t afraid to throw shade but also help someone that needed it. So, I feel as though I can trust your advice, haha =P.

  I’m trying to save and pay off debts with my partn
er at the moment. We want to try to get a house, even though we are at a very low bracket we are working hard to try to make it happen. The question is (maybe I took more than a shortcut there) do I continue on this path and help my sister run the business and attempt to go to college too and pay what we need to? Or should I do a course online that will give me the qualification I need and attempt to fast track my career? This would mean leaving my family member and that’s my problem. This would also mean putting the saving and debts on hold to a point.

  Boring problem I know!

  Thank you,

  Chloé

  Chloé,

  You are so right!! ☺ This IS a boring problem. In fact, I had to have an EMT come in and put me on life support just to get through the second paragraph. But now that my vitals are stabilized and I’m breathing on my own again, allow me to help.

  For starters, unless you and your sister are conjoined twins, your life is your life and her life is her life. It’s great that you decided to help her out in her business—but it’s hard for me to give you sound business advice not knowing what the business is. Flower shop? Dry cleaners? Meth lab? If she’s opened a mortuary, you could kill her and (a) keep all the money for yourself, and (b) take her death, funeral, and investigation as write-offs!

  I digress. If you and your “partner” are close enough that you want to buy a house together, then your loyalty should lie with her. (Loyalty ALWAYS lies with anyone who lies on top of you.) My advice is to find a way to ease yourself out of your sister’s business and move forward with your puss-lappin’ pal. Remember: You can always find another sister, but a good scissor sister is hard to find.

  ß

  * * *

  Dear Bianca,

  I work in a rather casual office, where there is no actual boss; it’s kind of a co-op arrangement. One of my co-workers is loud, obnoxious and constantly interrupting everybody. At least five of us have spoken to him privately about his behavior, but nothing has changed. He remains loud, rude and without boundaries. Any suggestions?

  Craig

  Savannah, Georgia

  Dear Craig,

  THIS is why socialism doesn’t work. Fuck Bernie Sanders and fuck Jill Stein. If Susan Sarandon and all of her bullshit idealistic asshole friends had voted for Hillary, none of this would be happening. Socialism is like bisexuality—good in theory, but when the fuck has it really worked out?

  Oh, wait, I’m off point. I think when you said “co-op kind of thing,” I flashed back to my days working on a kibbutz as a small Israeli girl, where everybody worked and worked and worked and even the laziest among us got the same amount of money and food as the hardest workers. Oh, wait, I stand corrected. I was the laziest among us; so I guess socialism worked just fine. Oops! Feel the Bern!

  Regarding YOUR problem (although I was enjoying talking about me), how about a little good, old-fashioned, public shaming? Fuck this “talking to him privately” shit. Humiliate the jerk. Next time he bullies his way into a convo, just yell out, “Shut the fuck up, you bloated, AIDS-riddled loser!” (Admittedly, I have no idea what he looks like, or his health status, but it doesn’t matter. Just saying it will make him a bit of a pariah—especially since you’re in conservative Georgia, where “learning” is a four-letter word. Really, it is; in local textbooks they spell it “larn,” which explains a lot about the state of your state.) No one will want to work with him!

  If that doesn’t work, you should go all Mean Girl on him. Every time he walks into the room, you should all huddle together and whisper and point and giggle. And if THAT doesn’t work, well then, quit this bullshit gig and go find a job working with normal, non-granola-eating, non-co-op-y, gluten-addicted bottom feeders who have healthy senses of greed, selfishness, and materialism. Like me.

  Ever done drag?

  * * *

  Dear Bianca,

  There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just put it out there, and hope you don’t throw shade. I’m in love with my boyfriend’s brother and want to hook up with him. Okay, backstory: My BF Jake and I are both 22. His brother, Noah, is 19, and he’s spending a month with us on his break from college. Jake is smart and funny and cute and I love him, but Noah has six-pack abs and a dick of death. Can I have it all without ruining my relationship with Jake? If anyone has the answer it would be you—you survived Drag Race and had it all.

  Aaron

  San Diego, California

  Dear Aaron,

  HAD it all is right. I went through that money faster than Kevin Spacey goes through Prep. Aaron, why would I throw shade . . . you whiny, selfish, covetous, home-wrecking piece of shit? Just kidding, Mary; I have no idea if you’re whiny. But I do know that you need to get your priorities straight. A good boyfriend is hard to find, but finding a ten-inch dick is even harder. So, pack your bags, call an Uber, and let Noah matriculate in the back of your throat. OR, IN BIG, BOLD CAPS, see if Jake and Noah are interested in having a family “get-together.” (You know what they say: “Vice is nice, but incest is best.”) And if that All in the Family three-way works out, then you should all pack your bags, get plane tickets, and move to West Virginia, where “families like yers dun be the norm, nobody dun never marry anyone but kinfolk.” Yee-hah! #DickPicsPlease #Deliverance #Banjo☺

  * * *

  Bianca,

  I’m a Democrat and my husband is a Republican. We’ve always enjoyed good political discussions but ever since Donald Trump became president that’s changed. We’ve agreed to no longer discuss politics or the news but the underlying tension is beginning to take a toll on our marriage. What do you suggest?

  Linda

  Mission Viejo, California

  Linda,

  Most advice columnists would say that you and your hubby should go to a marriage counselor. But I’m not most advice columnists. I say, kill him in his sleep. Why spend all that time and money on a lost cause? A pillow over the face for eight and a half minutes, gentle pressure, will do the job. No marks, no bruises, no petechial hemorrhaging; it will look like he died in his sleep. Crib death for a grown-up! Then you’ll be free to marry a Democrat. You’re welcome.

  * * *

  Dear Bianca:

  One of my sisters has a dog I hate. It’s one of those yippy little Maltese-Yorkie-Shitzu-Cockapoo things. Problem is, my sister brings the dog everywhere, because she’s a depressive and “Happy” is a therapy dog. We’re having a big family event at my house and I don’t want the dog there. Happy begs for food, barks, whines and pees all over the floor. How can I tell my sister to leave the dog at home without upsetting her?

  Devon

  Winsted, Connecticut

  Dear Devon,

  Your sister’s dog, Happy, sounds just like my grandmother Hannah. We’ve learned to leave Nana Hannah in the garage when we have family gatherings.

  Explain that her therapy dog is driving you into therapy. Be gentle and loving; maybe say something like, “Yo, sis. Leave Cujo at home or I’ll put him in the fucking oven.”

  Tell her how you feel and understand that she might not come to the party. On the bright side, maybe your comments will trigger her depression, and she’ll off herself, in which case you’ll never have to deal with this problem again! Suicide is ALWAYS an option.

  * * *

  Dear Bianca,

  My fourteen-year-old daughter has her first boyfriend, one of her classmates. He’s a nice kid, but a typical fourteen-year-old boy—he plays video games, hangs with his friends, etc. My daughter is constantly upset and hysterical that he doesn’t call every day and make her the focus of his life. I’ve explained that this is how boys at that age behave, but she’s unable to hear me and she’s becoming obsessive and depressed. Your thoughts?

  Marsha

  Doylestown, Pennsylvania

  Dear Marsha,

  First, I love that you spell your name “Marsha,” not “Marcia,” like Marcia Cross, that pretentious hag from Desperate Housewives. If you think I’m wrong about her, last time I
checked she was “selling” shoes (on commission!) in an outlet mall in Pacoima.

  Anyway, it sounds like your daughter is one step away from Fatal Attraction-like behavior. If so, hide your pet rabbit. You’re right, the boy IS acting like a typical fourteen-year-old middle school rat. Your daughter, however, is acting like a middle-aged woman whose first two husbands went to the store for milk and never came back. No offense. I’m no doctor, but she sounds like a demanding cunt. She needs to try some therapy ASAP to nip this problem in the bud. Or, she needs to try lesbianism. Those girls are obsessed with obsession—and I don’t mean the fragrance (which you can buy from Marcia Cross at the mall). A lesbian girlfriend will call her eleven times a day, sit in her truck outside the house for hours on end, and move in by Tuesday . . . with a cat or two, or six.

  Problem solved, MARSHA?

  xoxo

  Chapter 6

  Chew with Your Legs Closed

  To learn etiquette, is actually learning how to see others, and respect them.

  YIXING ZHANG

  Yo, Hop Sing! I’d like a beef and broccoli with brown rice. And don’t be chintzy with the soy sauce.

  BIANCA DEL RIO

  You should see the nail gun I use to hide my dick.

  © Jovanni Jimenez-Pedraza

  Fuck Black Lives; MANNERS matter. I’m a stickler for manners. Always have been, always will be. As far back as I can remember, I knew that elegance, propriety, and manners were important. First time I gave a hummer in a Walmart changing room I knew enough to keep Kleenex in my bra and floss in my jockstrap. Even then, I was a fuckin’ lady. But I’m not the only one who cares about which fork to use, or which homeless people to help and which ones to step over. (I give money to the ones who make an effort—you know, the ones who decorate their cardboard boxes or pretty up their stoops. The homeless have nothing but time on their hands; they don’t have to pick up dry cleaning on their way home from work, or get ready for a night at the theater—a night in front of the theater, maybe, but not IN. My point is, if they can’t find twenty minutes in their “busy day” to hose down their bench or hang a couple of flowers on their shopping cart, why should I waste my time enabling such laziness? Tough love, my friends!)