URNotAlone

Tgal Bowsers!

November 22nd, 2006 7:03 pm MST

Not that anyone cares but have you noticed the proliferation of websites devoted to really pretty T-Gals?  I mean the REALLY PRETTY ones.  You know, the gals who do their makeup like Michelangelo and have their lips perfectly lined.  5 inch stilletto heels and flawlessly color-coordinated outfits.  The knockouts with knockers. 

Come to think of it, I became aware of these websites myself when I received an invitation to join a group, "Foxy TGals".   Foxy??  Just what made anyone think I was a fox?  Was I the victim of a mass femailing?  And if I joined Foxy TGals where did that leave the non-members?  Did they form the Canine TGals sorority?  Or the Transgender Bowsers???  (and what about "legal aliens?" and "non-passable transsexuals"?) Eager to become a  "foxy" lady, myself, I sent my application to the group.  Wow, I thought as I scanned each member's profile, they had one exquisite group of ladies here and if I was accepted, I too,  would be a "fox".  Each member had their telltale handle:  FoxyBertha.  Pretty_Muffy_CD.  SexyQueenie.     

As I explored the site further I began to feel a bit distressed.   It looked like every gal in that group was over 6' tall and had 5" heels to boot.  Stiletto heels.  Double D ubercups. 22" waistlines. Mini-mini skirts. Heck, even Erin Brockovich looked like a librarian.  Five pounds of makeup and one inch eyelashes.  Ultra high gloss lipstick.  Fishnet stockings. The ultimate in femininity.  They were the few, the proud, the Foxiest of the Foxy.    They were so lean they made the average marathon runner look like Jabba the Hut.  What did that make me?  The Goodyear blimp?  Would I have to go on a hunger strike to lose 50 lbs and drop 10 sizes?  And maybe some 10" heels?  Was it worth going through all these contortions to be a "fox"?  Would I be accepted as a "fox" by the other members.  Or was I destined to a lifetime of St. Bernardhood?  At any rate, this "Foxification of tgAmerica" was beginning to grate on my nerves.  Was beauty worth the price of walking on stilts?

 On second thought maybe not.  But just as I was ruing my decision at having applied to the "little foxes"  I stumbled upon the Secret Society of the Ya-Ya-Bowserhood.  Eeek!  I'd heard of the Ya-Ya-Brotherhood but who'd want to be a dog?  Apparently a lot of gals did as their dress code was a bit less stringent (to put it mildly).  I found a veritable cornucopia of "Foxy Tgals" rejects,   big nosed bimbos  and a slew of gals who just wanted a less caricatured look.   And heck, it was easy to be a bowser.  I bark, therefore I am.  I was hooked.  A cottage industry of groups had slipped under the radar screen largely due to the tg crowd of "foxy babe wannabees."  I was impressed by this underground network of bowser hags who had formed their own organizations:  Cosmetically Challenged Tgals, Frumpy or Dumpy?, The Cracked Mirror, Bag Lady International,  Prissiest of the Prissy, Ugliest of the Ugly, The Modesty Club...  running the entire spectrum of Bowserdom from poodles to great danes.

 As a matter of fact they had their own get-togethers, Bowserpaloozas if you will.  At one Bowserama meeting they asked me what breed of dog I was.  A chihuahua.  And by popular applause, I was elected Miss Bowser of the month for May of 2006.  As if that weren't heady enough, they nominated me as cover-bowser-girl of the month.  Bow Wow!   I was having so much fun that it was almost a relief when I received a rejection notice from the Foxy Tgals site: "Thank you for your application to Foxy Tgals.  After reviewing your physical stats, we regret to inform you that you do not meet the minimal cosmetic standards of our organization.  Perhaps with the aid of facial reconstruction surgery, breast implants, liposuction and a Hollywood makover you can someday become a member of our regal society of the foxiest tgals on the planet."  Woah.  Why didn't they just come out and say I was fat and ugly.  No wonder so many gg's had such an inferiority complex.  At least they didn't tell me I needed the laser.  Well with 12 yrs. of electro, I hope not.

I stared at my profile with great satisfaction.  Bowser and proud of it.  Heck, how many foxy tgals wore jeans?  I remembered reading a bumper sticker somewhere: Good tgirls go to heaven.  Bowsers go everywhere.  Woof!  Woof!