I don't know why I was invtited to the Tenth Anual Fetish Ball in Ft. Lauderdale on Sunday night. People like Rubberella and Chain Goddess Brandy are hosting such a thing. I'm reminded of the John Waters line, "I don't find the actions of deviates the least amusing." But, then, I do. From the moment I broke out of that Newport, seaside existance and escaped to New York I have surrounded myself with deviants. My first friend in the city was Arthur Terchi, a shaved-head drag queen who would in later years rescue me from certain doom at The Underground. That night I had too much of everything and decided to lock myself in a bathroom stall and pass out. Every one of my friends knew I would never leave without signing out and Arthur went looking. He spotted my signature, patented leather dancing pumps under a door and scaled the wall. He carried me out while he was wearing a blue chiffon ball-length dress out on to 17th Street. I now have new Deviants like Kevin in New York; what a breath of fresh, nasty air he is. I'm blessed with his buddy Adrian, too, although not a deviant--just fun. How lucky I am.