You know that whole vogueing thing Madonna lifted from the gays back in the 90's? Fuck Madonna.
I didn't need videos or bustiers to strike a pose; I worked my shit in polyester turtlenecks and matching red barrettes from Walgreens.
And those big, elaborate shows she's so famous for? Ha! Cast your eyes on this, peoples. I didn't have to go hire expensive backup dancers: I got my sister to dance and play lead!
Nor did I need an elaborate production as backdrop to strike my poses. I just hit the stairs, grabbed the nearest walking stick and worked it. In my Sunday-Go-To-Meetin' clothes, no less. Take that, Material Girl!
And just in case you think all that early vogueing was a fluke, that she didn't blatantly steal my act and run with it, I would like to point out that I was doing yoga in 1970, back when only skinny Hindu dudes and that Lilias chick did it:
Enough. No need to rub it in. Clearly, I have proved beyond a shadow of a doubt who staked out this territory first.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go adopt an African infant...