Of late, death dominates our headlines. Fatal lynchings, children suffocating in hospitals; and now, another talented scribe gunned down. In the wake of such horrific news,
I was watching a burlesque video of a Chicago style jazz performance and realized suddenly, how strange I am. I had no trouble at all picturing myself as the star of the show,
Waiting at a gas station in Bahrain, wearing little but my ripped jeans and raggedly camisole top,
I only told four of my closest friends that I’m gay, but there are no secrets in school. When mine came out (pun intended),
Dear Marks And Spencer,
Have you – the whole lot of you that makes and sells and distributes lovely lingerie across the world – ever slept with a fat woman?