Monday, October 31, 2016

My Birthday

Hi everyone

Bad so far . fell in the bathroom last night and broke my HP. Toast. Hurt my knee badly and shoulder. Now have to learn to use this. Android

Have a safe Halloween


Friday, October 28, 2016

Stone age thinking in Wyoming

When I worked there, we had 200 of the Miniteman III missiles to care for. (middle one) Now they have 150.
 Hey there people,

I was just looking over the Cheyenne, Wyo. newspaper which I do occasionally. Nothing much happens there.The biggest story I remember this year was about the discussion, building, and all of the problems that the citizens had when they installed a traffic circle (roundabout) at a particularly busy, but clumsy intersection.  No one could figure out how to drive through it.
I'm already confused and scared.

I do have a soft spot in my heart for Cheyenne as that is where I did alot of living when I was stationed there in the USAF. But that was back in the early 1970's. It was really quiet back then. I tend to judge the progressiveness of a town (@50 thousand people) by the number of fast food restaurants (restaurants in general) it has. I know, I was a city girl and being away from the variety that was in my home town of Dallas was difficult. We frequently loaded up and went to Ft. Collins Co. to shop and chow down often. It is just 35 miles south of Cheyenne. And they had a mall! "Foothills Fashion Mall " The Honda Motorcycle parts were cheaper there compared to the marked up prices at the Cheyenne Honda dealer. I was restoring a CB-500 Four at the time. So the trip was always worth it.
I still Have Her.

We would frequent the Arby's, Jack in The Box, Burger King, and a particularly nice steak house known as "Moot House". The local Cheyenne girls always liked to go there on dates. Cheyenne restaurants looked like a 1950's Big Boy diner. Meantime, we had one Mc.Donalds, one Taco Bell, One Burger Chef (yuck),and a handful of cheap coffee shops. The best Hamburgers were to be found at the Air Force Bases' Bowling alley.

But Cheyenne did have Taco John's. This still growing fast food place was headquartered in Cheyenne, and was only 5 years old at the time. But they had 3 or 4 places in town and they were, and are still outstanding. They now have over 500 stores in the US. Heavenly. Other than the mild climate and slow lifestyle, Taco John's is the main reason I want to move back there someday. Seriously.

Wyoming is the home of alot of conservative people. Dickhead Cheney is from Casper. (The Horror!) The city council recently woke up from a coma and realised that there was something going on about transgender persons. I am sure that they thought that there weren't any in the state but a few spoke up and started calling for the council to put a few non-discrimination laws in place.They did do ..something...Not much.They are still all hung up on the bogus "religious freedom" scam and they are now afraid of men dressed as women lurking in bathrooms, ready to pounce on someone.  And they aren't  sure if they want to be forced to hire a LGBT person or to even sell them something retail.

Capitol Ave, Cheyenne.
The retail people, mostly, except for a seller of "Religious Supplies" have no problems.  They have been doing business with them for years and never knew it. Like any town, there is a cross section of the population to be found and now everyone is probably on full alert.There  was a thriving gay population back when I lived there. I was "invited" to hang out many times

Here is how it went down recently. These links are to the Wyoming Tribune-Eagle.

 Here is the report of the pre-vote discussion.

And here are the results. Why is there always one person who is scared, or hateful that screws things up for everyone?

Oh well.....
Anyway, you kids act right now. I'm not puttin up with no more of this foolishness. (Texas talk)

 Love, Julia

Monday, October 24, 2016

I Watched "Girl, Interrupted" Again.........more secrets revealed

Harrisburg State Hospital. Previously known as the Pennsylvania State Lunatic Hospital. Loving care since 1845.  The movie was filmed there

Hey guys.

I am Bi-Polar. I attempted suicide about 15 years ago. Pills. Benzos. You know, clonazepam, diazepam, temazepam. Didn't work. Bought me a month or so in the general type hospital in Texarkana. I had a watcher 24/7. not a cop. but I also had no other visitors, I think. I don't recall any shrinks or anyone speaking to me. Or family visits.
I know I had one long night talking incessantly about something. My poor room watcher. Because I can talk. I mean world class blabbing. like people do when they are on coke.

I watched "Girl, Interrupted" again tonight. It always gets me to thinking.

I didn't watch it because I have a thing for Winona Ryder, or Angelina, or Whoopee, It just puts me back in a world of adolescent girls. I don't necessarily identify with the more disturbed girls, but I do seriously identify with Wynona's, and Angelina's, and Brittany Murphy's character. Some part of all of them resonate in me in some way.

The scene where Winona sees her friends birthday be selected as number 3 in the draft lottery on TV really hit home with me. I was in the last draft lottery back in 1970 or so for boys born in 1953. I was born on October 31. They picked #10 for kids born on my birthdate. Meaning I would be among the first persons drafted in Janauary, 1973. That gave me the years long cloud that seemed to always be hovering nearby for the next 2 to 3 years. It was a horribly cruel thing to do to people. To tell them that in a few years it was entirely possible that the people with lowish numbers would probably be getting drafted and going to Viet Nam. Military service changes you. Fighting in a war changes you. Just being around a bunch of slovenly, fucked up men is enough to put doubts in your mind.

The rosy outlook that I had before I went into the USAF was soon gone forever. Alot of my child-like ways, which could also be called alot of my feminine side was erased. Before, I was a Christmas loving(decorating), polite, guitar playing, Volkswagen driving gentle guy/girl. I had no close friends, but I had always had a job. At mainly A&P grocers. For a few months, I was hired part time as a helper/parts runner/sweeper at my local Honda motorcycle dealer. It was wonderful. I remember that I did have a girlfriend during this time. A real one. She was blonde, tall, and a tom boy of sorts. But also had a very feminine side. I really loved her. But soon,, I had to run off and leave my life behind and learn all things military. I had absolutely no interest in this and horrors of being in because of , ...I just knew I didn't want to be subjected to that scene. I had seen enough military type movies. I knew that it wasn't for me.

I see the girls struggling with their varied mental disorders, and I realise that they were young and did not have the tools and skills to understand and cope with their disorder. (or mental defect, you chose) But I am over 60 years old. And I can see what I need to be happier. To feel more like a woman. I have had a glimpse of this. It was wonderful.

I also have been feeling like I may becoming attracted to some men. Not your typical beer drinking sports nuts. Smart, nice guys. Like the "Trivago" guy on TV. Hot stuff. Am I beginning to want to change teams? I do so love women though.

I came down with a gastric bug a few years ago  and had to be hospitalised because of dehydration. I was only there a few days, but all of the staff called me Julia. They treated me as a woman. with respect. I even remember my voice pattern changing to a softer and higher register. I have absolutely no problem speaking as and sounding like your average woman. Although I was sick as hell, I realised that I was known to all as Julia, a woman. That good feeling soon began to wear off as soon as I was around my mother again.
 she is deaf and I have to speak to her in a very unfeminine tone. I hate it.

Watching this movie, as an ex smoker, is a bitch. Those girls smoked non stop. It looks so good....

I feel that if you put any person in my life's station, alone, no friends, and only a 92 year old woman that still thinks she knows what's best for me(you) and feels that she will never have to consider that there is possibly some other truths in this world besides those that she had formed over her sheltered, never worked outside the home, basically wasted life, they will become a bit unhinged themselves.

I'm wearing a dress tomorrow.

My mother is not interested in anything I have to say. She listens, but doesn't really listen. There have been no real conversations with her in a dozen years. Even my Brother, who I get along with spectacularly, is around maybe 10 minutes a week. Mother and he have a good chat but I am not spoken to or included.  This has been a fact most of my life but it had only gotten worse since I began to become Julia.

Anyway, I am more on the depression side of things lately. I do occasionally have a spark and become chatty and have a bright outlook on my life, but after a few hours of talking down the well that is my mother, I soon become angry, feel foolish, and I remove myself from her presence for a few days. It is surprisingly easy to keep out of sight in a 1300 ft/2 house and never have to interact with her. I only venture out of my room in the hours that she sleeps, 9pm till 9am. During MY hours, I have the house to myself. A long bath, cooking, and just sitting in the living room instead of on my bed are all a nice blend of existences.

I would kill to live in an urban area like where I had always lived before moving here to the desert of weeds. The nearest mall is over 50 miles away. And compared to the Malls in Dallas, it is a dump.
Modern and well lit. Tons of stores.

But this is no way to live. I am very outgoing. I love meeting and interacting with people. I had worked at some easy jobs during my post USAF period when I was in university, and then played full time in a band for a year or so, moonlighting at a car stereo installation place, I did just fine. I ultimately found myself in business for myself as the retailer and installer of Blaupunkt stereos for 4 Dallas import dealers. This kept me very busy. There are alot of Mercedes Benz, BMW, and Ferrari's sold in Dallas. For a few years there, they all had my sound systems.

Then of course,  I became reacquainted with an old high school friend who had found a way to break into the world of radio broadcasting. I had always been very interested in being on the air, and by some late night sitting in with some new friends in the business, I did some OJT, learned the ropes from all of those late night chats, and eventually, I broke my way into radio in Dallas. That was 1980. By 1997, I was doing well with a great station owned by some good people, but here came the pitiful whining and stern talk to make me feel guilty, to make me leave all of that behind and haul my ass up to do my duty, as a child, to care for my fast failing parents.
They were real shits. They used to be a bit more fair, and in the years between high school and 1997, they seemed to ignore me mostly. There were the monthly phone calls to make me feel guilty so I would visit them for a few hours, but that was about it. During this time, my parents and brother had some incredible vacations that I was completely unaware of. Some I am even just now learning of. I asked her why I wasn't invited and she said that I was working and too busy. She never consulted me.

One last thing. I was a very precocious child. Avid reader. When you have no friends, you have to do something. I worked, had one girlfriend for about 6 months, and spent alot of time listening to the Moody Blues. They were my lifeguides. Of course, I am speaking of the first seven albums.

When I graduated from high school. I got a few very puzzling gifts from some of my cousins, aunts, and uncles. At the time it was only puzzling but I accepted the gifts gracefully and with thanks.(of course all of those relatives have disowned me now. It's like I killed someone. But I am still the same person but no one has bothered to speak to me.)

They were all basically what you would call gender ambiguous clothes. Some really tight jeans, some knit, thin tops, even some very nice cowboy boots that seemed to have a heel that was a bit higher than the usual men's boots. Alot higher. But they were beautiful and I liked the way they made me feel. I continued to wear them for many years afterward. I didn't know that I was putting out a gay vibe. And having the slightly feminine mannerisms that I have and my lack of machismo and care less attitude about sports, it was obvious that I was mistaken for a closet gay.
At some point, my parents realised that their youngest kid wasn't normal, but they never confronted me. They had no Idea that they had a daughter on Halloween back in 1953. Doctors can be wrong.

Sometime after my suicide attempt around 2004, I suddenly found myself searching the internet for information about transsexuals. I had suddenly, without a conscious effort, began to become very interested in women's clothes. I had never been a crossdresser except for the closet dressing that I had done before I began grade school. Now I was buying clothes of all sorts. Underdressing, girls jeans, bras, everything. And SHOES!! I began to dress at night after my parents were asleep. I began to feel some guilt but what I was reading on the net told me that I was just different. I wasn't doing it to feel sexual gratification. I just liked women's clothes and how I felt about myself when I was wearing them.

Then came the years of life review. All of the little weird things that had happened that I had brushed off. I also told my shrink at the VA Medical Center about how I was feeling. Soon, I was told that a specially trained psychiatrist was being sent to Dallas to meet with me and administer some tests because the staff doctors knew nothing about transsexualism other than the few hours they were exposed to it back in medical school. Even in the early 1990's, the VA was mostly clueless about us. I found that I was educating the doctors on some of the finer points of the condition. I had bought a copy of the DSM-IV and I had been absorbing much of that text.

The doctor from the Dallas VAMC had been pretty convinced that I was trans. He wrote up a detailed evaluation of his findings and I was even allowed to have a copy. These were to be a part of my records that could be accessed by other staff shrinks back at the VA hospital that was nearer to where I lived, in Bonham Tx. Long story short,  I had to see the shrink twice a year to renew my meds for my Bi-Polar condition. I had been seeing them for this since 1988. But when I went back to see them about prescription renewals, and since I didn't always see the same doctor, I would be met by a confused, mostly silent doctor that would read my evaluation all during my 30 minute session. Few questions, looks of puzzlement, and some of anger and loathing were to be seen.

Soon, it was time to begin to really try to get hormones prescribed. At this time, the VA in Bonham and in Dallas were not honoring the shrinks order to prescribe the meds. This went all of the way to the head or endocrinology in the Dallas hospital. I made some formal protests and they finally did prescribe the spiro, since it wasn't something that was only prescribed for trans persons. It is a potassium sparing diuretic used off label for it's anti-androgen properties and for persons with heart failure. But no Estrogen or progesterone.

Soon after, the VA jacked up the prescription co-pays to beyond what I could buy them at retail, and I still needed HRT, I found my Doctor in Dallas who not only prescribed the proper hormones, but he continued my prescriptions from the VA. I also was set up with a part D medicare program and I now only pay about $4 per month for all of my "Pills".

I have been trying to find a way to move away from here for years now but I never can get enough cash together to move. I am going to Cheyenne around thanksgiving when I will search for a place to rent.

Going back to the girls of Claymoore Hospital, were their psychiatric problems caused by chemical imbalances in the brain such as Bi-Polar disease, or perhaps some structural defect such as they say that trans people have? Is Locking their asses up in some dungeon with alot of other similar persons really the correct thing to do? Let the crazys all hang out together and that will somehow help them to become more sane? Keep them comatose with drugs? Stir in some not so honorable or caring doctors, nurses, and orderlies? Do they still do that kind of shit?

It is a fact that the general public know nothing about transgender persons. Only enough to fear and hate them. It will take a generation to educate persons to not be fearful of us , and about 50 years for the red states to even begin to think about it. The level of overall ignorance in the south is staggering. They know sports, how to drink and beat up someone, and fuck. And they aren't really interested in learning anything else. I know of a woman that announced that she was so glad to have graduated school, because she wouldn't ever have to read again.

I know, alot to digest here. Take from it what you can and maybe come back and read it again sometime.

Be nice to people. Don't add to the hatred we all are living with.
Love, Julia
 And Have Some Tacos.

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Something very serious on my mind.

Hi Everyone.

I hope you made it through the first day of the week. Mondays can royally suck sometimes.

I began to feel guilty about some content in my last blog entry. A lot of negative shit. Anger. So I deleted it.

I have decided to speak of a warning that I can relate to you that most people have never experienced. A warning of a possible Armageddon. And how close we could be to the end

This will not be about some visionary's predictions or biblical crap. This will be all facts.

I will present the facts as I know them and you will be able to make up your own mind.

This will be extremely difficult for me to get down in text but it is all public knowledge. It is just some things that most people never even dream about.

I am speaking about nuclear weapons.

I mentioned that I was in the USAF back in the early 1970's. I was trained in all aspects of Minuteman Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles.

It was real and serious. More serious than anything I have ever been exposed to in my life. The men and equipment were all serious. No place for anyone not prepared for the fact that we were working on the weapons of doomsday. A lot of guys were washed out even before finishing tech school. Many were dropped because bad things were found in the security checks that the Air Force ran on all of us so we could qualify for Top Secret security clearances.

The main point will be to inform you about some aspects of nuclear weapons, the weapons system, the command and control, and the safeguards that are in place to protect us from any accidental release of any weapon that are not generally known to the public. There are some facts that many people have assumed were true from the usually erroneous facts depicted in Hollywood movies and even some documentaries.

They don't tell you about the really scary stuff.

I am going to stop here. I will try and complete the blog as soon as I can get a grip on myself.
There are alot of things that the public does not know about strategic nuclear weapons that I will make clear in the coming blog.

It takes a certain mood for me to be able to talk about this subject.

Nothing in your or anyone else's life experience or even in your wildest dream could show you the depth and sheer power and horror of what happens when nuclear weapons are used.

But I will try to show you some of the mechanics of the chain of command, and the absolute power that the president of the United States has at his instant disposal. That will be the focus of part 2 of this essay. See you then.

It is not too late to show some love and understanding to your fellow citizen. A kind word, a helping hand, even a smile can change the outlook of some, possibly unhappy, depressed, or simply stressed out person.

I truly wish the best for all of you in your daily lives.
Love, Julia

Monday, October 17, 2016

Trying to survive.

Hey Everybody!

I hope the past few days have been good to you, and you to them. You would be surprised how much a little smile and a kind word can make a difference.

I haven't really been out of the house this month except to grocery shop around the 3rd. It was a pretty big haul but I am out of chips and Dr. Peppers and I need to make a quick run to the local 'Pig". Actually it was a Piggly Wiggly forever it seemed but their old, small stores were slowly bought out and made into locally operated stores. High prices and a limited selection are the norm but it does save me from a much longer round trip to the W M. I have a short list of items that I will try to grab in the next few days.

I also need to go to Clarksville to the tax accessors office and pay for my new license plates/registration for the Accord and the Scion. The Accord turns 25 this year and now she is eligible for antique plates. These plates are a bit cheaper but they are good for 6 or 7 years. My Pontiac Phoenix has been using them since 2004. She is a 1979 model and I cherish her dearly. I have been driving around on expired plates on the Scion and the Accord for months now. I have procrastinated enough on this task. A hefty citation would jolt me into coherence and I really hate to pay fines, especially when they are because of my laziness and misanthropy.

..................................Deleted Content................................................................

The weather hasn't been cooperative in my quest to ready the cars for winter. High temperatures and humidity keep me indoors. It has been in the high 80's and the forecast for the most of this week is the same with a brief cool down later in the week.. Cool fall weather has been arriving later and later each year. Global warming. More reason to move to Wyoming as soon as I can.

Enough of my late night blabbing. Let's all try to have cooler heads and try to not make the national anger level any worse than it already is. These are some tense, unhappy times for so many people. Keep cool.

Love, Julia

Thursday, October 6, 2016

Tales of the Courthouse / Name Change / A Dress, Heels, and Sheer Terror

Hey Everybody (when you hear those words, do you also hear "Hey Dr. Nick?)

I finally got off of my ass and went to the grocery store. After weeks of silence, I guess I got angry enough and showered, cooled down, carefully applied my makeup, (I took a much longer time to do this than normal. I was watching a compelling TV show: Grounded For Life) The main reason I took from 4 pm until 6:30 pm to get ready and leave is because I try to time my arrival about 30 minutes before the pharmacy closes, and since I like to shop in the late evening, it all seems to work out.

Last night was an unusually heavy load. I had only gotten a few things last month and we were running out of about everything. I had one cart full of cat things and other non foods as my first load. I rolled those goods out and put them in the back of my Scion Tc which holds a surprisingly large amount of things.

Since I hadn't eaten, I ran over and got a quick 2 tacos, and sat in my car, listened to the mp3 CD that has been in my dash since I first bought it, the car, 13 months ago. (an mp3 cd contains a huge amount of songs. I am at #75 on this one. I rarely listen to the stereo).

I retouched my makeup, and headed back into the store for the food run. I quickly filled up one cart, and after check out, dumped it in the car, and returned to the store for the remaining things on my list. I never shopped with a list until I moved up here. In Dallas, My condo was just one street over from the very nice, new shopping area at Frankford and the tollway. Everything else was close. As things had always been in my life before living here on this deserted ranch of doom.(we actually have cows, well, they are my brothers)

After everything was loaded up, I rechecked my shopping list finding that I had not looked at an entire page. I was too worn out to worry about it. Usually after grocery shopping, I lay low and do absolutely the minimum of activities to give my old bones a chance to recover the next day. Because after I get home, I have to haul all of the shit inside, sit for a few minutes, and then put all of the shit away. Being alone constantly is bad enough. Work tasks are even more of a pain without someone to help, or at least someone to chat with while doing such mundane tasks.
I am whining.

I have a meeting (telephone) with my lawyer in Dallas, to discuss the particulars on changing the gender marker on my drivers license. Texas is a scared, wimpy, conservative, trump loving state and they balk at any changes. It costs hundreds to change your name. Cash that you have to pay directly to the local court clerk. For the hundreds you pay, they schedule a court date for you. No cash, no court date. The actual proceedings with the judge in a courtroom take minutes. Mine took place in the judges office. Not very dramatic. I was scared out of my mind though.

That was my first time out in what I would call "Dressed Up" mode. I had been going to the grocers, and other places dressed in basically what I wore the last 30 or so year living as a male. Jeans, T-Shirt, sneakers. Only now, the jeans were a bit tighter, the top a bit tighter, the presence of a bra filled with some silicone buddies, and of course, makeup. I had taken some advice that I had read somewhere in that minimal makeup was what worked best. Most of the women up here rarely wear any makeup, much less decent clothes, and cute shoes are non existent. It is very easy to overdress up here. So I have always seemed to fit in quite nicely.

But that day in the courthouse....... Oh god did I stick out. I wore a dress, heels and stockings. I had been walking in heels for years in private and that was not really a problem. I am sure my makeup was poorly applied. But I was dressed up mainly in respect for the court and judge, and also for the reason of presenting as feminine as possible image to everyone. I am sure that the people who saw me had some story to tell their friends.
It is very run down inside.And the clock doesn't work.

I sat there, on a wooden bench, cold, (we had a cold snap the night before and it got well below  freezing) I sat there forever it seemed. The time I was supposed to be seen passed, and I still sat. It was nearly 2 hours later that a woman came around the corner and shouted my old name. I raised my hand very meekly. It seemed everyone in the halls of the 131 year old courthouse stopped, and went silent. My father was very well known in the area. I was motioned to to come with her, I presumed into the courtroom. I stood. I had been sitting on a wood bench for over 2 hours. I was not aware that my legs had gone to a semi sleep state. I struggled to balance on my heels, get my bearings about me, and teeter after her towards a room. Did I mention that the courthouse was not heated?

I must have been a sight stumbling along in my heels toward the judges office. I was allowed to remain standing after the woman said that I could sit down, I told her that my legs were asleep and I needed to stand. In a few minutes, the judges helper(?) called my name and I walked, steadily, towards his desk. Questions were asked. He was concerned that no background check had been done by the clerks office as was the norm. I had supplied them with every known form of identification , even a ten card, my fingerprints, that I had to go to another county to get. This county said that they wouldn't do it for the purpose that I needed it for. And apparently, the county clerks office did not do their job and do a background check. The judge was concerned because I was also changing my last name. He asked me if I was getting a name change to evade the law and I assured him that I wasn't. He looked me over and said that he believed me but don't let him find out that I was some fugitive because the penalty would be much worse because he had signed my name change. Nice.

Anyway, he granted my name change, and sent me to the clerks office. The same angry, hateful woman was there when I had applied and paid for my court date. She seemed surprised to see me and see that I had a signed order in my hand. She did her filing, writing down of things, and stamping of my court order with the county seal.
I was advised that I would need a few certified copies from the clerk. She decided to charge me $5 a copy. I was sure that the charge was bullshit so I told her that I would need a itemized receipt for the charges. She froze for a moment and went to the copier and got the copies of the 2 page document. She stamped them, initialed them, and handed them over, not asking for the check I had written for $15. I took them, thanked her and left. I was unsuccessful in voting her out of office in the next county election in that there have not been any democratic employees in the county since anyone could remember. But I voted against her ass.Oh well....

Now, I may have some more courthouse stories to tell as I am going to probably have to go before a judge to get my gender marker changed. My lawyer works out of Dallas and I doubt that she will have to be present. After the judge signs the gender change, I get to go to the drivers license office where I was just a few months ago. I blogged about this experience and the cheerful clerk back in my fifth blog entry. This woman was so hostile, and filled with hate, that I could actually feel the waves of hatred buffeting up against me. I can't wait to see how she acts when she has to issue me a new license with a "F" where the "M" used to be. It was so very obvious that her and her friends, family, and church buddies were 100% against people like me and this kind of shit. It reminds me of that county clerk in Kentucky that wouldn't issue a marriage license to a gay couple.I am sure that her "god" will send a limo and valet for her when she finally croaks. The people who kill abortion doctors get the same treatment also.

Anyway, when I speak to my lawyer and learn of what will have to happen, I will give you the details. Why does everything have to be so hard? Why are some places simply filled with ignorant, narrow minded, hateful people?

I had best post this thing. I still haven't washed any clothes. I am going to be wearing dresses, skirts, and other non "sit around the house" type of clothes if I don't do a few loads. I have been such a zombie lately.

Remember to try to find some happiness in every day. Spread that happiness around to everyone you meet. and if you are a misanthrope like me, fake it.

Love, Julia

Next day, 10/7
One load of wash done, I have the DVR on autoplay with a few dozen Big Bangs cued up, and a full refrigerator  of sodas. My Scion has been without a current license for a month now,and the Honda has been out for maybe 3 months?. I really don't want to go to town and deal with the county functionaries. Hateful looks from all.
I read that some idiot said that the hurricane was due to all of the sodomy being performed ("Evil Sodomites") in our country, I guess especially Florida. Here