At least from me.

Earlier in the evening, I was decked out in a shawl, dress, heels, makeup, all the shit that says “real girl.” Or, as I like to think of it, my drag act. How fake is it, that in the women’s room, someone saw me in my wrap and said, “I couldn’t fucking find a shawl…Oh, sorry, pardon my French.” First of all, she thought I would normally own (instead of buying just a few hours before on a clearance rack at Chico’s) a fucking wrap, and, fucking hilarious, she fucking thought I would mind her language.

Anyway, on the way home, post some free wine drunk by me, we stopped at Safeway. The mega, not just groceries, grocery store, where I picked up a couple of gifts. Fuck yeah, people I knows how to shop.

Ho, fucking, ho.