Whatever one may think about being gay, let me tell you, darlings, it is not easy. Not just the usual reasons--social persecution and exclusion, career marginality due to sexual orientation--yes, dears, we are talking about my life--but because there are so many definitions of gay from theater queens to vicious opera queens (the worst!) to Chelsea boys, to nellies, butches....the list goes on and on. Sweeties I am not sure what I am, what with my feminizing Diana Vreeland prose style and my panting lust for REAL men like Eric Evans who in my dreams pound my love passage while whispering "Fuck, yeah!" into my ear!
It takes a sense of fabulousnesss about oneself to be gay, and let me tell you I have it. Wait till men taste my Potage Partmentier, then I will have my house in Great Neck or Long Beach and can fly from the land of carbon paper to the land of flowered chintz, which my husband will buy for me! Darlings, how much more can one stand! Stay tuned when I reveal how and what made me this way. You will never believe it!
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