19 June 07
Xena - A transsexual giant and Wiccan priest. The charismatic leader of Cult Of Xena (COX). Tattoos include a wasp on his penis and ant trails running up his legs.
“I might have cancer,” Xena said.
“How soon will you find out?” I asked.
“As soon as I see the specialist. Maybe he’ll do me a favour and invert my penis, so the wasp will be inside my new vagina. Or maybe not. Maybe I’ll have a tube stuffed up my ass and my prostate scratched. Hopefully he’ll remove my balls. Then I’ll be able to have estrogen treatment and these things,” Xena said, grabbing his chest, turning to speak to a female guard, “will be bigger than yours.”
“Xena, are you talking crazy again?” the guard said.
Displaying long legs in cut-off shorts, Xena said, “Hey look, I shave my legs too.”
The guard yelled at some inmates lurking in the softball dugout: “Nobody is allowed in the dugout unless they have equipment.”
“I thought,” Xena said, “all the guys have equipment. I’ve got equipment and I’m not even a guy. This thing between my legs is a foreign object.”
Emerging from the dugout, an inmate yelled, “Xena, don’t you have a poon yet?”
“Yeah, I have a poon. And my poon is bigger than your poon. Actually, I might have a poon soon, as soon as I see the specialist. And when I get my vaginoplasty, y’all can bring cameras on poles to see my wasp.”
“Xena,” I said, “do you know what surgeons tell the parents of hermaphrodites when they want to surgically alter them into females?”
“It’s easier to make a hole than build a pole.”
“Speaking of holes and poles, you goddam Limey pondskipper,” Slope said. “How wouldja like some of the ol’ prison trumpet in your crumpet?”
“We love our crumpets!” Xena said. “We rub our crumpets!”
“The rest of you out of the dugout!” the guard yelled. “C’mon, you’ve got no equipment.”
“It takes a woman,” Xena said, “ to tell all the guys they don’t have any equipment.”
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