Cut off my cock and call me Cassandra used to be a favorite expletive of a friend, rather camp, when told anything surprising. Uttered in a high, semi falsetto, it could be enormously funny. The fact that he was a male drag queen only added to the fun, although woe betide anyone who thought that being a drag queen made him transgendered. He would explain, with arch good humor, that the masculine men he liked were especially attractive when they asked a man in women’s underwear to bugger them, and being a drag queen was, in his experience, the best way to attract those sorts of men. He was, in short, a gay man with intriguing dress sense, who had grown up in a society where drag queens were one way of being a gay man that he understood and could make his own role out of.
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