Sunday, January 30, 2005

It's 5:30am. In an hour and a half, I'll be dangling from the ceiling of the Municipal Auditorium, hanging crepe de chine streamers and silk swags for tonight's ball. Why do I risk my life in the service of such faggotry? For the unabashed glamour of it all, of course. Well, that, and because I'm a faggot.

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