YOU JUST MIGHT BE A TRANNY CHASER!

Dollar “Billy Bob” Bill has gone country parodying Jeff Foxworthy’s “You just might be a redneck” hook, with his own psychotic take on society's covert fascination with she males. Appropriately entitled “You Just Might Be a Tranny Chaser,” the following will no doubt be a painful and nauseating experience - but well worth the insight as usual - that is - if you don’t take yourself too seriously.

In the wild and wacky world of “metrosexualism” (what a bullshit word to describe the current trend), totally horny men-on-the-prowl often wander through the streets of The Big Apple led only by their rigid cocks and the endless need to get that stiff invader off as often as possible - and with the most furious of impassioned dick worshippers they can find. The haze and ooze of this surrealistic search numbs the mind to the point that the sex zombie in pursuit of all these carnal pleasures will often wake up the next morning wondering exactly how to define his sexuality, so that he may be comfortable in his own skin and able to walk by a mirror without turning away for fear of who or what he might see. It’s a quandary for sure!

Take the tranny chaser and the straight-up gay man. Is there a difference? Now in my opinion, there IS a difference between these “metrosexuals.” A gay man falls in love with other men. He may fall for a tranny but his attention will be directed below her waist - not above. On the other hand, a tranny chaser favors a she male over a man because the man doesn’t have soft skin and big juggzz - which are obviously important to a tranny chaser - or he would simply go for a gay man.

Well anyway...lest I overly digress, I have to admit that coming up with subjects for this feature is getting more and more difficult. I am a poison- pen writer whose major thrust is to ventilate at the expense of whomever (including myself) - hopefully in a humorous fashion. Unfortunately, the publisher of this magazine doesn’t want me to make fun of the advertisers who finance this paper. Hence, I feel like a porno stud trying to perform without his viagra or an olympic sprinter running the 100 yard dash with a broken ankle. I would much rather write “NYC’s Ten Biggest Deadbeat Trannies,” than “Zero Population Growth And The Transsexual,” - if you get my drift. It’s just so much more fun!

And so...every month I struggle to come up with a topic that might interest somebody on the subject of transsexuality and the guys who “chase.” And this month after endless mental rumination, I discovered one passage in last issue’s feature which led me to the promised land once more. It was a silly quip which ended with the phrase “You just might be a tranny chaser.” I read this paragraph to a couple of ancient friends at a high school reunion - all of whom fell out at the absurdity of the subject matter - and suddenly realized that the said narrative faintly resembled the hook line “You might be a redneck” so successfully used by comedian Jeff Foxworthy. And there it was - and is - the title and theme of this month’s feature! How fortuitous. How excellent! Now if I can only think up a few funny lines...it will work. And if it doesn’t who cares? Nobody reads this meaningless drivel anyway. Guys who buy this magazine go straight to the ads looking for a cute she male with a nice package. Yo! So what the fuck? Here goes with the comedy routine:

If you pick up a gorgeous “girl” on the street, invite her to your house, and when she undresses in front of you revealing a big sett of succulent tits AND a long, phat pole, you have to flip a coin to decide what you’re gonna suck on first...YOU JUST MIGHT BE A TRANNY CHASER!!

If you’re tongue kissing your favorite goddess du jour and she tastes a little sticky...or you’re sucking her big clit and suddenly a gush of viscous white stuff projects from her engorgement, YOU JUST MIGHT BE A TRANNY CHASER!

If you actually paid six bucks for this rag and you didn’t hide it under The New York Post, Daily News or other equally egregious tabloid pieces of crap when you went to the counter to pay - you’re DEFINITELY a fucking tranny chaser.

If you like to watch Channel 35 on your cable TV late at night, and you don’t throw up when that repulsive she male phone sex ad comes on...YOU JUST MIGHT BE A TRANNY CHASER.

If you find that in your normal conversation with people who have no idea that you buy this magazine and see these girls, you use expressions like “You go girl,” “You better work,” “Ova,” and “She’s serving,” YOU JUST MIGHT BE A TRANNY CHASER.

If you crave the affections of a lady with big hands, big feet, botox lips and a cute little $1000 dog named Chanelle, Poopsie, Zsa Zsa, or Sparky...GO KILL YOURSELF. You’re a hopeless drone. And get cremated while you’re at it. Nobody will come to your funeral anyway.

If you bought this magazine, called one of the girls, invited her over and then concentrated solely on sucking her dick and smooching the stubble on her chin - all while ignoring her big, phat fake juggzz and fabulously round and silicone-induced super booty, you AREN’T a tranny chaser. YOU’RE A FAGGOT - A HOMOSEXUAL MAN - A MARICON - A JOTA. Get out of the closet. You’ll feel so much better for the admission.

If you go out to a dark, loud disco joint, pick up a tall, chiseled "lady" with a deep sonorous voice, take her home to discover that her clit is actually bigger than your dick...and you don't care...YOU JUST MIGHT BE A TRANNY CHASER!

If you resemble a certain ebony comedian/movie star, and you like to pick up transgendered girls in the street at 5 AM to give them rides home (or at least that’s what you tell the police when they pull you over), you’re definitely a tranny chaser - just like the celebrity who used this preposterous excuse when he himself was outed for being exactly what he is: A TRANNY CHASER!!!

If you think Dame Edna is one sexy ho - and don’t even notice that the old fag is actually really fucking funny - forget about being a tranny chaser - YOU’RE A TRISEXUAL NYMPHOMANIAC. You’ll fuck anything!

If you ever went to the newsstand and couldn’t decide whether to buy Screw or this puppy trainer - YOU’RE DEFINITELY A TRANNY CHASER. There’s nothing but tranny ads in either magazine, you homo! But hey! Better buy both. There just might be one she male advertising in one that isn’t in the other.

If you crave the company of a gorgeous female with fabulous soft and natural tits and a fragrant and velvety pussy which you love to pound all night - YOU’RE NOT A TRANNY CHASER. What the fuck are you doing reading this dog shit in the first place?

If your name is Dollar Bill, and you write a preposterous first feature for the leading she male periodical, and you pretend to editorialize and hold yourself above the she male fray while you actually overindulge whenever possible - YOU JUST MIGHT BE A TRANNY CHASER. But you’re not! Contrary to the rumor mill, I don’t blow trannies - and trannies don’t blow me. Ha! Just when you thought I was outing myself.

If given absolutely no parameters as to what to write for your history paper, you choose a subject along the lines of “The History of Transsexualism,” or “Comparative Tranny Cock Size Through The Ages,” or “J. Edgar Hoover And The History Of Crossdressing,” YOU JUST MIGHT BE A TRANNY CHASER!

If you surreptitiously surf the web to jerk off, accidentally stumble upon a tranny feed and bust all over your pot belly before the stream even loads - YOU JUST MIGHT BE A TRANNY CHASER!

If you think “Paris Is Burning” and “The Rocky Horror Picture Show’ are two of the most fascinating, well-written and convincingly-acted films you’ve ever seen, you’re definitely no Roger Ebert - but YOU MIGHT JUST BE A TRANNY CHASER.

And there you have it! If that ain’t a litmus test for your tranny chasing quotient, I’ll kiss your ass...but only if you’re an onion-bootied, brain-dead born female ghetto hoochie mama - ‘cause I’m definitely a big fag for a dumb rapper-worshipping, illiterate, slow-minded, blunt-smoking lady of color. I just can’t help myself. What can I say?