My one-time roommate, The Gayest Boy Alive, firmly believed that if he weren't Diana Ross, he ought to have been. He called himself by the character's name in Mahogany, which disinclines me for it decades later. (I have nothing against Teh Gayz, mind. Hmmm. I love maple syrup -- but I wouldn't want to drink a quart of it. Same thing.)
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You know, that's genuinely the best comment on that subject I've ever heard. I want to put that on a t-shirt.
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