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Rebel With a Cause

I am a rebel with a cause. As a drag queen, there’s a sense of duty. We’re leaders, performing in venues across the world every night of the week. We stand out from the crowd and use our microphone or social media reach for good. We’re a strong voice in the campaign for LGBT rights, and more.

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Rebel With a Cause

Secondary school art
Threadbare Jesus sandal 

Oh no you can’t

All arches and space
Lines hiccupping

Oh no you can’t

Sole foreshortened
Lost my perspective

Oh no you can’t

Art teacher
Telling tales of tea parties with Hitler

Oh no you can’t

Took one look
At my graphite frenzy

Oh no you can’t

‘You can’t draw’
Rubbing me out

Oh no you can’t

I resisted
Like wax under watercolour

Oh yes I can

I had seen the dark rainbow
In the raven’s wing

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Rebel with a Scotch Pie

I’m going back a few years now, but when I was a lass.
I took work as barmaid, in a bid to earn some brass.
A nice hotel; but staff were starved and often half-awake.
Cos ten-hour shifts were normal, and we rarely got a break.

Of course, the staff had just the trick if stomachs started twitching.
They’d sneak off for two minutes and steal something from the kitchen.
The chance of decent left-overs was usually remote.
So, folk would grab what they could find and ram it down their throat.

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Rebel With a Tartan Cause

My own personal rebellion is currently ongoing. It started a couple of years ago when I first sussed there was a chance that the Scotland men’s football squad could rack up an unenviable total of ten qualifying failures in a row if they didn’t make it to the European Championship finals in 2016 or the World Cup in 2018.

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Rebel With Good Vibrations

The year was 2005 and I was working in a well known high street sex shop on Princes Street Edinburgh. The pretty girls with good boobs stood at the front of the store selling lingerie while my quirkily dressed 20 year old self, who could sell a rubber dildo to an old woman without blushing, worked in the back, beyond all the novelty hen party items, with the sex toys, porn, specialist underwear and bondage wear.

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Rebel without a handbag

On the 20th of May I walked down Bruce Street without a bag.

I have given up bag carrying. No handbag, carrier bag, or holdall of any kind, not even the respectable cotton shopper with identifying bookshop logo. I feel naked, so naked, that for the first time in years, I feel as if people are looking at me.

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Rebel Yell!

Govan born and Bred
And easily led!
Grown up in poverty, sharing a bed
Dogged school and played the fool
Being a rebel was cool!
Missed education but had a brain for a tool!
Decided early on to join the forces
In the midnight hour I cried, more, more, more
With a rebel yell I cried, more, more, more
Travelled the world but always missed home
Came out and was reborn
Rebel no more!

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Rebel, Rebel

I often saw the red haired man polishing the red estate car. One day my hand slipped and a bottle of milk I'd bought for mother oozed onto the car roof.

I hide behind a wall, smiling, as he inspected the damage, looking up and down the street.

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Keywords: 
everyday rebellion

Rebel, Rebel

Rebel, Rebel....

Rebel, Rebel

Who? Me?

I never was a rebel

Always best behaved at school

But now I'm old

And on my own

I sometimes tune to Radio 2

Instead of Radio 4 

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Keywords: 
everyday rebellion

Rebel-O-Meter

Are you a real rebel? Or someone who just thinks they are? Take our handy test below to find out more. Here’s how to rank your score:

0-2          You buy books by Salman Rushdie and Zadie Smith. And never read them. But still talk about them at dinner parties.

3-4          You once thought Richard Dawkins was a bit of an idiot. Or suspected that a lot of medical research is a waste of time.

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