So I like to gender bend. Mostly, I just like to dress how I feel most comfortable. And that just happens to be in men’s clothes. They last longer, they fit me better, and they don’t come in pink with glitter (unless you really want them to).
But just because I dress in men’s clothing does not mean I am a man. And that aspect of me does not give you the right to ask me if I am in the right bathroom. I’m 33 years old. I think I’ve figured that part out by now.
Hey you. Yeah you…the lady with the screaming three year old who keeps peeking under the stall wall at me doing my business. Do you pee standing up? No? Neither do I. I guess I’m in the right place then.
And you. Yeah, you over there behind the cash register. See these? These are called breasts. Yes, men have them too, but unless they’re a drag queen, they won’t be perky and firm like mine. So there’s no need to call me ‘sir’.
Oh, and I haven’t forgotten about you, you high school douche bags. Yes, I see you staring at me. I have earphones in…I’m not wearing a blindfold, you idiot. You can’t tell me you’ve never seen a lesbian before…I know you’ve seen Finding Nemo (I think it’s about as intellectual a movie as you can handle). So you know Dora, then. Well, she’s a lesbian. Technically, the woman who does the voice of Dora is. Her name is Ellen DeGeneres. I’m sure you’ve heard of her. I promise I’m not an anomaly or a product of a tear in the fabric in time. There’s more than one of my kind.
Have I ever been with a man? Sure. I’ve been with men on elevators, on the bus, at work…wait…oh, you mean sexually! Gee, don’t I feel foolish. No I haven’t. If I liked men, I wouldn’t be a lesbian then, would I? So, have you ever been with a horse?
I haven’t found the right guy, huh? No, you’re right about that. Because generally, guys don’t have vaginas. As it turns out, I’m not even looking for guys. I’m pretty confident that I like women. I’ve been meaning to ask you…have you found the right abortion doctor yet? Oh, you weren’t even looking for one…funny that.
So which one of us is the man? See, that’s the amazing thing about us lesbians. We’re interchangeable. We come with removable penises. Sometimes my girl is the man, and she attaches her penis, and sometimes I want to be the man, so I put mine on. And sometimes, when we’re feeling really frisky, we both put our penises on and compare sizes. Most of the time though, we detach our penises and keep them in the nightstand next to the bed for easy access. In your heterosexual relationship, which one of you is the man?
Do I like being gay? No. I hate it. I tried to pray it away, but that didn’t work. Then I tried vitamins. Nothing. I was going to try being with a man, but then I realized I actually love being who I am. And part of who I am includes sliding between my girl’s thighs and going to town. Let me ask you – do you like being completely out of touch?
And no, just because I like dildos doesn’t mean I should just be with a man. If that were the case, you heterosexual bastard, you should just replace your butt plug with a gay man, because you’re already half way there. Oh, and you should also consider that every time you enter your woman’s back door, you’re performing the same action as two gay men having sex. I’m laughing now because you’re going to think of that every time you want to penetrate your woman’s ass. Have fun with that.
How is it real sex? Well, it just is. How do you answer that question when your wife asks you?
A threesome? Yes. Because I totally want your flaccid dick flopping around and making a mess of things. No, I’m good. I like my twosome just fine. You want to watch? Well, I suppose if you’re looking for pointers on how to properly please a woman, you can watch. Might want to take notes though. Things can move a bit quickly when we really get going.
I’m sinning? Well, I suppose if there is a god, and he’s peeking into my bedroom, the whips and chains might make me a sinner. Or the fact that on occasion, when we’re going to town, shouts of “Oh, God!” coming from the bedroom (or wherever we happen to be when the mood strikes) might make me a sinner. I thought it was a rather appropriate praise of ‘his’ name, though. Because if you believe in that, we’re made in his image, right? I was just worshiping at a temple…
What do my parents think? Well, since they’ve never seen me in action, I haven’t gotten any feedback from them, so I can’t answer that question. So what do your parents think of your sexual intercourse?
How does it work? Well, see, it’s like this…before we assume the position, we make an offering to our goddess, Melissa Etheridge. Usually we’ll burn some incense and light some candles, and then sacrifice some flannel in her name. After that, we strip naked, rub our belly while tapping our head and jump five times. Then we sit down and watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer – the TV series, not the movie.
No, I’m not a man. Nor do I want to be one. Why do you wear men’s clothes? Oh, because they fit well and feel comfortable. Huh. Isn’t that interesting? Those are the same exact reasons I wear guy’s clothes. What do you know? Maybe we’re not all that different.