� In this diary, I record my life as a transvestite. Perhaps it will help somebody else, who finds their lifestyle doesn't quite match that endorsed by the 'tranny mafia'. Well, I've been there... and survived. The debriefing starts here.
�loves: All kinds of stuff that society thinks I shouldn't.
I might not be writing again for a little while. I'm off on holiday!
In an example of perhaps the worst timing since Napoleon Bonaparte said "I hear Moscow is lovely at this time of year..." I've only been in my new job for four days, and I'm taking a week off. This all had to be explained to them, of course. Perhaps I should thank my lucky stars they didn't just delay my start date until I return. Anyway, that's my leave allowance trashed for the next few months, I suppose.
We're going to the �le de R�, not far from La Rochelle. Not a part of the world I've ever visited before, but one to look forward to, I think. Bays with beaches, and the crumbling remains of coastal defences, dating from 1625 and interspersed with more modern efforts from the German occupiers. The most exciting photo opportunities, however, will almost certainly come from the island's donkeys, who wear Gingham pyjamas.
Either that, or the Absinthe is really cheap on the �le de R�.
Seriously. Pyjamas... although some sources say culottes. You be the judge...
As you can see, this donkey isn't particularly interested in ironing, which I think is rather a shame. One should always look smart in pyjamas, even if you're planning to go straight to bed.
Blue for the boys, and pink for the girls. Maybe these two are an item; I don't know. Whether transgender donkeys are permitted to wear the pyjamas of the other colour is unclear at this stage. I'll have to let you know.
So... a holiday. Although perhaps a rather austere one, given the state of my finances of late. But looking at donkeys has got to be free, right?
Will you miss me? Well... you can always play the Nom Nom song (my current favourite), and think of me...
