Lily and I have had this talk many a time: she believes that no one in this God forsaken world is a hundred percent anything– no one is a hundred percent straight or gay more specifically. However, she does agree with me when I say that I am the straightest person that we know. I am so grossed out by woman-ness. Quite frankly, vages scare me. C’mon… itty bitty humanoids come out of there and so does urine. You don’t think that is weird?

Anyways, the other night I went out to a gay bar with my main gay and soulmate, P.J., his boyfriend, and our friend, Maria. And you better believe that we were pretty sauced up at this point (at least I was). I killed off a bottle of Southern Comfort (ew! i know) and I was two beers in and high. We walk in there are hot guys everywhere. Of course, I have an internal conflict with this. Since Lily and I are constantly on the prowl (at least, I am anyway), I am totally in hunt mode. It’s just natural to me. But at the same time, none of these hot dudes are into me because they’re more into dudes. Silly me, I know. Unfortunately, the only straight dude that was there was a creepy fat dude who wanted me to dance for him.

But whatever. I wasn’t expecting to get laid at a gay bar. After a few more drinks, the bar became more and more crowded (and increasingly fabulous). They played Justin and you know, how I love my Justin, and then they played a little Britney– so I was totally busting a move. But then it happened. Lesbian after lesbian was grabbing my ass. I was manhandled by a bunch of lesbians. I felt a little violated–like my ass was no longer safe at a gay bar (and of all the places I thought my ass would be safe, I would of put money on the gay bar being the safest, but no, not so much). And there I stood in a room full of people, feeling the most alone I’ve ever felt in my life–scarred and afraid.

Now, I’m all about gay rights. My best friends are gay. But I’m awkwarded out by anyone touching me (when uninvited to touch that is). So, yeah, nothing reaffirms your heterosexuality like being manhandled by lesbians. And what was weird about being violated by LESBIANS? I think it is that they are worse than any dude that grabbed my ass–homegirls were going for chunks of ass. At least guys give you that creepy yeah, I just did that smile and you’re just skeeved out because they’re perverts. But Lesbians give you that YEAH! WHAT, BITCH? face and quite, frankly, it was scary. You better believe I my tush was against the wall the rest of the night, well, at least when I wasn’t stumbling around drigh (drunk and high).

The next day my ass was sore (that should tell you something about how hard it was getting grabbed).

I just want to take this time to let you all know that I love dudes. No matter how retarded and  useless they are, they’re still pretty sweet. I am appalled by boobies and vag. They scare me. If it wasn’t for showers, I wouldn’t see myself naked ever. Dudes. Dudes. Dudes. I love dudes. Dudes in the morning. Dudes in the evening. Dudes at supper time. When I see a dude today, I’ll salute them just for being a dude.
COOCH! This is a video with Chris Crocker. You may know him as the “Leave Britney Alone” dude. He’s really funny. If you want to understand my feelings about woman parts, this is the video to watch because I could not have said any of this better. I completely agree with him on his views on the cooch. It’s a scary thing and I don’t understand the appeal of it (Boys, feel free to explain).

In other news, if you have read 30 Days of Night, like I have, do not go see the movie. I promise you nothing, but disappointment. You won’t appreciate it for what it is.