One word sums up this book: hilarious. And yet, on second thought, it's not only hilarious, it's practical. Engaging. Certainly entertaining.

I guess that it'd be appropriate to say that this book has more under its skirt than you bargained for.

All bad jokes aside, rarely does a book come along that can make me want to read it cover to cover, and turn around and do it all over again, in case I missed anything. The recipes are actually good, and are not just there as fluff; the "guide" section is practical for any woman, not just ones who are born with adam's apples.

For example: the section on beauty reads like a much-more-practical-than-Glamour-magazine hints and tips for the wise (excepting the parts on shaving your cleavage, but even that has merit for some of us). "It's staggering what a girl has to go through, the uncountable products she must buy, the precious hours she must devote, and the hellish pains she must endure just to have a great time looking like a natural beauty," Honey says as introduction, "All beauty elements -- microcosms unto themselves -- must be scrutinized and determined to be either 'in-sync' or candidates for disposal in-sink."

I want to stand up and yell "OH, YEAH!" and take on Honey as my new best girlfriend. God knows she'd have more sense than some of the women born with enough estrogen to be labelled as such.

The true genius of the book starts from the very first page. There's a fill-in blank for you to fill in your own drag name, and if you don't have one (male or female), you have to read the section on Elementary Drag first and come back to fill it in. She also mentions that if you can say your drag name with a straight face, it's not good enough. There's a section on "Household Drag," how to tell your parents you're a drag queen (with a terribly amusing picture of a mother in a dead faint from the news), and "Social Drag," with tips on everything from how to choose heels to how to choose which bathroom to use.

I could go on for days about the sensible living guide, but it's better to say "just read the book." It's a must have for anyone who happens to know a drag queen (never abbreviated as DQ, since that's too close to "dairy queen," a slang term for a girl who's had her breasts implanted), who IS a drag queen, or who's ever seen a drag queen. Hell, it's good fun for everyone.

The cookbook section is even better. Honey changes the traditional measurements -- instead of teaspoon and tablespoon, she uses bsp. for "big spoon" and lsp. for "little spoon" -- and throws in wtf., which is a wrist flick. Even cooking should have drama, style, and je ne sais quoi.

The section is separated into events: Gala Dinners for One, Diva Dinna', Slumber Party, Pearl Before Swine (for your more porcine friends), and more. Each section has its own host of recipes that range from really easy to really really easy, and after many of the contributor names, Honey adds her comments. Not about the recipe, mind you. About the contributor. It's like listening to a well-intentioned catty bitchfest in first person, and it's loads of fun.

Buy this book. In fact, buy two. Give them as presents, read it cover to cover, use the recipes and the beauty tips (yes, even you men, if you're so inclined), and love it the whole way through.

The Drag Queen's Cookbook (and guide to sensible living) is possibly the best book I've read this year. It's a treasure.