GUNT: An Introduction

A portmanteau of the words gut and cunt.
A river in south Tajikistan.
An acronym for Garbage, Uniqueness, Nerve and Talent.
A playground for insecurities.

Wussy Mag readers got their first taste of the Gunt over a year ago with this short autobiography written by yours truly, and I stick by every word. But that was way, way too brief. And it’s not that you absolutely need further explanation, but we think it’s important to share with you just how serious we are about not being serious. If you don’t get it yet, just wait. Because “it gets better.”

Wussy Mag has invited us to take over for the week, and that’s like really, really cool because not only are they actually allowing us to feature our content on their website, but because this takeover is consensual. And, if you haven’t heard yet, consent is like, really, really fucking cool.




In short, The House of Gunt is a group of transmedia artists from the city that sleeps in; Savannah, GA. We find pleasure in straddling the tenuous line between the illusion of caricature and the transference of ideas - because it doesn’t matter if it’s real; it only matters if it’s true.

Being in the business of “the body,” we generally find ourselves making compensation for our art through nightlife venues, bars, art galleries, or sex work, but we have so much more to offer than that, and this week, we want to prove it.

So! Before we crash land at Heretic this Saturday for Glitterball, we will be featuring original content from Rainé Rainé, Edna Allan Hoe, Lavender Mist and RuPaul Charles. On top of all that, we are showcasing website designs by Toyota Mistubishi, music by C Powers, and shameless self promotion via Instagram by Monster Cunt.

And of course,  I’ll be sharing personal accounts to shed light on the Story of Gunt and the queer scene of Savannah with assistance from the photographers and artists who helped document this journey along the way.

It may seem mastubatory, but Savannah has very little documented queer history and now that we have the tools, you better damn well believe we are going to record every damn minute of it.


The HoG is a collective that emphasizes truth through mass individuation. Therefore, all that you see this week will be in service to the Gunt, and the Gunt is in service to no one.

Even though our members are genderqueer, our personas tend to be so over it that they lean towards post-gender, sexy yet sexless, creatures. We are bored with reality, and in our space, imagination is key.

Many of us suffer from the dreaded ‘man hands’ but know how to use them in order to protect and make space for fellow femmes and queers.

We may have gone to art school, but a lot of us dropped out, and the rest of us who graduated realized, rather quickly, that art is not a profession.

Many of us are transplants but hate “big city bigots” and/or “northern aggressors.” A “big city bigot” is someone who comes to Savannah and outwardly expresses negativity and disdain about the lack of queer spaces without considering how privileged they are as a queer person to not only exist in a place where they feel safe and wanted but to also have the option to pick and choose from amongst different queer spaces. Savannah has one conventional (bar/venue) safer space downtown and that is Club One. It also has one safer, non-conventional (aka DIY) space and that is QuoLab.

A “northern aggressor” is someone you generally don’t know, but who finds it necessary to read about legislation passed within the states of Southeastern USA and express their disappointment with ignorant comments like, “Well, what did you expect? It’s the South.” or “Can’t the South just secede already?”

Our response goes something like this:
Fuck you.

There are real fucking people here working real hard to try and make a change in your damn country where people still have to live in fear of using a public restroom or getting fired from a job simply because of how they identify or who they fuck.

The “love it or leave it” rhetoric does not work because there are still going to be kids growing up queer in the community or fresh transplants who finally escaped their toxic family life, and they’re going to need visibility beyond what mainstream media and the gaystream have to offer.

And no, not everyone here has fucking air conditioning.


The larger social climate of Savannah is entirely indifferent to queer existence, and we will continue to inject feminism and deconstruct toxic masculinity within the neutral spaces of the “Hostess City.” Therefore, in order to ensure the safety of safer spaces in Savannah, we do not take up space unless asked to do so. This way the venue and/or promoter must be responsible in acknowledging our presence by inviting us to their normally neutral or “tolerant” space, and an unwritten agreement is made: We choose to be inclusive and non-judgmental in your space if you choose to be inclusive and non-judgmental about us taking up said space.

If you don’t think what we do is “drag” then you’re in luck because neither do we. However, members of the HoG are drag queens, and they are regarded as such. Ahem, Dax ExclamationPoint. We have extreme admiration for drag queens and their conventions, but just like a great film, you should cut for emotion - not continuity. A busted queen with a knack for performance is more endearing than a polished queen with a knack for being boring.

As usual, you should learn the rules before you learn to break them. But if you’re still going to come out and critique aesthetics, answer me this: if fresh queens have to constantly check themselves before walking out the door, who is doing the oppression?

If people want to take the time to learn, then someone needs to take the time to educate. The HoG is an educational experience for everyone involved. The performers and the audiences learn about themselves, and visitors from all over have been generally positive in acknowledging that they’ve seen “drag” like this before, but never a show like this before.

Since we seek to represent truth through mass individuation, each performer works on their pieces as individuals, and then we bring them together in what we colloquially refer to as Tag Drag. In Tag Drag, up to ten performers take to the stage one after another with no emcee, a convention that’s turned out to be the most problematic part of a drag show. There are no breaks in between each performance - only the mixing of the DJ to keep you on track.

It asks the performers to give up a part of themselves for the collective effort to perform, and asks the audience to forget what they knew about a “drag” show. The longest tag drag to this date lasted for one hour between 4 performers for Artist Run at the Satellite Show in North Miami Beach.

Raine Raine by   Dave Spangenburg

Raine Raine by Dave Spangenburg

LaZanya Ontre by Dave Spangenburg

LaZanya Ontre by Dave Spangenburg

Toyota Mitsubishi by Dave Spangenburg

Toyota Mitsubishi by Dave Spangenburg

Influenza Mueller by Dave Spangenburg

Influenza Mueller by Dave Spangenburg

We are:

Less about terrorizing our audience and more about disarming them.
Less about RuPaul and more about Vaginal Davis.
Less about Andy Warhol and more about Valerie Solanas.



Influenza Mueller is co-founder and one mother of the House of Gunt (yes, HoG has two mommies). She is a little slice of Americana with extra cheese.

This week, the House of Gunt take over WUSSY in preparation for Just Toby’s Glitterball: Down and Dirty at Heretic on Saturday, August 13th.