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It's amazing what one can do with a wooden spoon, a shoe lace, a bare neck, and a twist of the wrist (occasionally limp). Play asphyxiation games. Commit suicide. Perform a deuce of a murder. READ MORE.
I went to my first gay bar, the Silver Slipper, a dyke bar on Grand River, near downtown Detroit. Just 19, I used borrowed ID, escorted authoritatively by two 'stone butches': Speedy and Draino. READ MORE.
CHICAGO: This is my tenth trip to the Windy City to take part in its Annual Pride Parade gathering. Since I first started to visit the city in 1959, I've seen its LGBT rainbow community change, gradually move north, and struggle for full human rights recognition. READ MORE.
WACCOFF, TX. Source: Lone Star Police Gazette Badge Polisher. Headline: Under Cover Cops Make Sunday Surprise Restroom Arrests! Mark your activist desk calendar. READ MORE.
The vice officer who entrapped me when I was 23 was attractive. He said he had seen me around. He offered me a lift home. (There was no mention of sex.) When I went to his blue Ford Thunderbird, it was locked. His partner ran on the scene, called me a fag, yelled dramatically, "You're under arrest!" READ MORE.
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