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Story No. 25319
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By being the only trans-gender person in the room I began to feel uncomfortable when everyone started shouting
"Mister Poo! Mister Poo!"
was all I could muster as I slowly lost conciousness and began to
dream of hairy French guys with pencil-thin mustaches and European bathing suits. He reached out for a
a salt shaker to spice up his beef. The first bite had been so bland it needed
to be thrown in the trash. So, he said, "Fuck it." And he picked up a hooker instead.
