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my house. after dark. please email me if you don't know where i am. you can honor a person, a pet, someone you know or someone you dont know who may have no one to remember them.if you can't come you can email me a picture of your departed and i will print it out and put it on the altar. they just have to be dead, after all, that's the point. you don't have to believe in anything and it is not a sombre occasion the way honkies always want it to be. all edible/ drinkable ofrendas-supposedly the favorites of your honoree-can be consumed after being on the altar. we're paying attention to the dead not ignoring the living. partaking of the offering is central to the entire meaning of the night.

death is mocking you- why not get in on it?

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"Butch feral vogueing femme...take it to the runway."

of course Persia Herself already had me branded with her name in Farsi on my ass years ago...

those ferals have been vogue-ing up a storm(the hallway is their runway, apparently) lately. they must be the new and not yet legendary chillens of the house of lapersia.

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