Passing

I would have written earlier but I've been distracted with other things like... er, changing my ringtone to Yakety Sax which would be a great song to play at my funeral as well. Being led into the crematorium furnace in a fast motion figure of eight chased by a nurse, a short bald man, several women in bikini's, passers by and mourners.

Anyway... I don't know why but my t dar ping's in M&S either its the shop of choice for middle aged looking tranny's or I need to review my spotting mechanism.

Personally I've had a pleasing small moment of female identification, admittedly in dim light but I take it as a encouraging note and suggested I was doing something right, for once. I went out again, after my accident where I wore thick tights to cover the bumps and bruises on my legs, I don't think the rest of my outfit, which was picked out in a hurry, worked quite as well, especially the plain court shoes I brought with me.

Usually when another thread on passing appears on a online discussion forum it tends to give me a form of narcolepsy called tediusrehashedquestionus as the same old views get restated often quite forceful. The only things I will say is that if you're wearing a little Bo-peep costume and six inch heals standing outside Bristol Temple Meeds station, you might not pass. But then one might suggest if you're wearing a little Bo-peep costume and six inch heals standing outside Bristol Temple Meeds station you're likely not to care if you pass or not. There are also no short-cuts, so don't believe the snake oil salesmen.

Above all, don't panic and have fun, self consciousness is the biggest give-away.

*That's enough from auntie Lucy's advice column, you'll be relieved to hear.*