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.)
Tami, meet Rob. Go friend him; iffen he is kind enough to friend you back, you'll be admitted to one of the more witty, entertaining, and rantficul journals around.
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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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