On Dealing With Unwanted Guests

When dealing with unwanted Party Guests, there is only one sure method to make them depart - offer them Raclette Cheese.

Here is the recipe for success:


1) Announce gaily that you have a special treat you are going to serve. Try not to smirk at the expectant smiles of your inebriated

2) Unwrap the Raclette Cheese. It will smell impossibly bad, like the toes of a filthy hobo, or a long unattended infection. Let the
cheese rest on the counter, while your more delicate guests begin to find their coats.

3) Prepare the condiments for the cheese; cubed bread, gherkin pickles, small boiled potatoes. The more adventurous eaters will now draw closer to you - and the fatal blow.

4) Melt the cheese over low heat in a saucepan. The previously condensed malodorous stench will be unbound from the cheese, and expand in the air like a chemical weapon of biblical proportions. Do not worry about guests who are soiling your bedroom in furtive encounters, or are looting your medicine cabinet behind a locked door, the stench will reach even the farthest reaches of one’s home.

5) Exchange your hurried good-byes with the remaining guests, who all suddenly realized that they left an iron on, or a baby sitter unpaid, or had just received an urgent call from an ill relative and just had to leave.

6) Minutes later, with everyone gone, go back to the kitchen, where the cheese has now released its toxic smell and turned into an
appetizing treat both unctuous and quite delicious. Enjoy the sublime vindication of eating it all by yourself.

- From A Vile Old Queen’s Guide To Etiquette And Proper Living

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A Vile Old Queen's Guide To Etiquette And Proper Living - available now!

A Vile Old Queen offers the most nuanced advice on proper manners, correct grammar, personal hygiene, social obligations, and how to maintain one's social position at the best parties. 

Dedicated to the Vile Old Queens 
of a bygone yesteryear

That's you, Darling

  • Review From A Straight Fan - "Gay humor that anyone will laugh with!" 
  • From Your Favorite Bachelor Uncle - "If don't you find this funny, you must be dead!" 
  • From A Jealous Evil Queen - "Sometimes the best thing to do is remain silent." 
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On Weddings

On Weddings
Few things are more loathsome in life than a wedding; the pompous invitation, the terribly forced and unnatural schedule, the uncomfortable and unattractive attire. A guest list that rarely includes anyone you want to talk to. The gaucherie of a gift registry. The horrific music and dancing. All covered with the slickly sickening sheen of religious piety and social necessity.

A Vile Old Queen suggests one avoid attending all weddings if at all possible. For gifts, despite all indications to the contrary, everyone prefers cash. If your own wedding is in development, elopement may prove a saner course.

If one has a sadistic trait, however, your own marriage can make sweet retribution for all the weddings you felt obligated to attend. There is no better vengeance than being the Bride and selecting the Bridesmaid’s gowns. If one has the misfortune to be the Best Man, the toast is your time for revenge. If one is the Groom, remember that, like in surgery, the right amount of anesthesia can make it all go away.

- From A Vile Old Queen’s Guide To Etiquette And Proper Living


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On Hats

Hats are best left to professionals, unless one is attending Church or a Sunday Brunch, in which case there are no wrong choices, merely less heroic ones.

from A Vile Old Queen's Guide to Etiquette and Proper Living

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If you still have hanging
a Christmas stocking
on the first day of Spring,
you need to know;

from "Storytelling" by Jason Messinger


On Body Odor

On Body Odor

Body odor is very much like hair; in the right place it’s a sexual stimulant that is captivating to the senses and a signifier of beauty and allure. In the wrong place it’s a disgusting and repulsive insult that can cause grown men to gag in reflex. A Vile Old Queen suggests these small tips for keeping one’s body odor pleasant and agreeable.

– Avoid strenuous exercise if at all possible. Perspiration is merely the tip of disagreeableness of this iceberg.

– If one uses cologne, remember the idea is to create an intimate whiff of a subtle scent for someone standing a hand’s breadth apart from you. It is not to cause people three feet away to tear up and gasp for breath. If people wince as you enter an elevator, it is a clue that you have applied too much.

– When seeking to purchase a personal scent, anything excreted by a small mammal is only appropriate if one wishes to attract the same small mammal. AVOQ suggests psychological counseling if that is one’s true inclination.

– When considering a scent endorsed by a musical celebrity, remember that their actual bodily secretions were not used to create it.

– If you encounter the girl offering a free sample spray at the fragrance station in a department store, remember that anything given away is usually worth exactly what you paid for it.

– Lastly, but most importantly, unless one is a Lesbian Hippie with a terrible sense of personal boundaries, the wearing of Patchouli Oil should be avoided at all times. No other scent lingers so long, nor causes such nausea. Patchouli Oil has been implicated in the death of the Sixties.


From A Vile Old Queen's Guide to Etiquette And Proper Living

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The Aviary

If God is a Dove
cooing our law,
then are Humans an Eagle
entrails in claw?

If Honor is a Crane
poised on one leg,
then is Pride a Peacock
atop a cracked egg?

If Joy is the Rooster
crowing the morn,
then is Dread the Raven
cawing forlorn?

If Wishes are Starlings
both weaving and fleet,
then are Curses Vultures
that chew out our sweet?

If Fate is an Albatross
hung huge cross our flight,
then is Luck an Owl,
both wisdom and fright?

If Love is the Robin
hope burnt with each cheep,
then is Loss the Nightingale
who sings us to weep?

And am I the Crow;
the trickster, the wit?
Or I am the Dodo;
fat, foolish, unfit?

Will You be the Falcon,
hearts pierced with your dive?
Or are You the Canary,
who warns our demise?




Here is quiet
locked in the body by the hearth.
Resolve a fine lace
worn thin around her heart.
Where is pride
when shoes are rags,
when clothes are as patched
as freedom?

Here is spite,
the stepmother archetype,
her brood of jealousy.
Worked into the frenzied cruelty
of the well dressed,
the well heeled,
the socially ambitious.
Who dares to travel
to the Prince’s Ball?
Here is pride
as tart as vinegar.

Here is vanity, genie bottle,
maternal substitute,
beauty makeover.
The great mirror
in which dark is light,
gourds are carriages,
mice are stallions,
rags are haute couture.
Where is modesty
when you’re better accessorized
than Barbie?

Here is gaiety
for the King’s best son;
the whirligig,
the swooning girls,
a real gas.
Fetching as a pumpkin pie,
succulent partner
with the fireplace eyes.
Dream date romance,
truer than Harlequin’s,
dry as ash.

Here is modesty-
Midnight bell,
the virgin’s best friend.
Chastely, quickly,
fleeing into poverty.
Carriage rots.

Stallions squeak.
Her only trace
Chanel number 5
and the best looking shoe
in the world.

Here is obsession
for the riches and glory
of the perfect foot
for the perfect shoe.
So pretty it hurts.
A brutal rite,
a fainting bind,
a bloody stump.
Here is obsession
as clear as glass.

Here is happiness
like a sieve.
Foot fetish marries
the cleaning compulsive.
What love lasts 

when beauty fades?
The sullen remorse,
the childless castle,
the hateful family.
To bed by midnight
in glass slippers.

What price a dream
without practicality?
Who cares for cake
without a meal?
Here is hope
a dusty treasure
murmured softly,
by the fire.
Crystal clear.

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